Because we’re paying $44.95 for answers -- more if they come in high-definition.

Has “Cro Cop’s” new knee made him a new man?

Mirko "Cro Cop" Filipovic entered the UFC in 2007 with the reputation of a very dangerous man that engendered sympathy for his opponents. He exited that same year engendering sympathy only for himself.

He went 1-2, beating only a low-watt Eddie Sanchez before losing to Cheick Kongo (decision) and Gabriel Gonzaga (knocked into oblivion). After mixed success returning to Japan, Filipovic underwent knee surgery to repair nagging injuries. He now claims to be as motivated and capable as when he pillaged a Pride open-weight tournament in 2006. We’ll see.

Has Wanderlei Silva’s chin retired?

There are two athletes who have gone by the charming “Axe Murderer” handle: One wiped out the entire island nation of Japan and was responsible for more blood loss, pint for pint, than a year’s worth of chainsaw accidents; the other one emerged in 2006 after being high-kicked into catatonia by Mirko Filipovic. He was then knocked out by Dan Henderson, battered against Chuck Liddell, knocked out by Quinton Jackson -- a man he had defeated twice before -- and owns only one win in three years.

I fear the latter has taken up permanent residence in the Octagon. Silva is so tough, but so battle-worn, that his body may be trying to tell him that enough is enough. There is no concrete evidence that getting knocked out makes one more susceptible to subsequent knockouts, but there is circumstantial footage -- and the common-sense observation that, if going unconscious is the body’s way of shutting down as a protective measure, it would do so with more urgency the more concussive punishment it receives.

Franklin is not a knockout artist. If he’s able to dim Silva’s lights, it may be time to admit the wiring is permanently disabled.

Is Cain Velasquez as advertised?

The 240-pound Velasquez is described as nothing less than demon-spawn by training partners and coaches. “The future of the heavyweight division” is an inexhaustible label. It is easy to forget he’s only 5-0.

Cheick Kongo -- long, lean, with great knees and sharp punching -- will easily be his biggest test to date. On “paper” -- which usually condemns more than promises -- Velasquez can control and pummel Kongo on the ground, and perhaps land a big shot standing. It’s what he’s been doing. But previous opponents have been outclassed athletically and emotionally: Kongo won’t be.

We’ve seen hot prospects get hyped to the gills before, only to fold under pressure. Cain is on the burner here.

How far can Ben Saunders really go?

A season six participant on Spike’s “Ultimate Fighter” breeding kennel, Saunders was not expected to make any sizable impact in the welterweight division. Not that he was unskilled -- just that he looked average. And at 170 pounds, average is as good as dead.

After losing in the show’s quarterfinals, he buzzed off three consecutive victories. The last, against Brandon Wolff, was a clinic in the Thai clinch, with Saunders using his frame and reach to lump Wolff up. Now he faces Mike Swick: If there’s any better gauge of Saunders’ evolution at American Top Team, this is it.

How will Germany receive the UFC?

Germany has long had a superiority complex, so it’s little surprise that its media has met the UFC’s arrival with a healthy amount of snobbery. Minors have apparently been banned from attending, and TV deals that once looked concrete now appear shaky. Post-fight reaction might go a long way in indicating whether the promotion will bother for a return engagement -- or if the passion of the sport’s fans can overcome political smothering in much the same way it did in the states.