Mixed martial arts can be looked at in many ways and, for the most part, any given take is accurate. 

For some it's the purest form of sport, bringing two athletes together for a contest that tests the body, mind and spirit like nothing else. For others it isn't a sport at all, sacrificing the framework of legitimate competition to ensure instant gratification for beer-drinking fans. Things can get even deeper from there but really, it's a blank canvas that can be painted any way a person desires.

It's rare, however, that all of MMA's inherent ugliness and all its inimitable glory manifests around one fight. Judging from the last week, that will happen this fall with the bout between Chuck Liddell and Tito Ortiz.

Back in July, ESPN.com's Brett Okamoto broke the news that the storied former UFC champions were coming out of retirement to make their scrapped 2010 grudge match a reality, with Oscar De La Hoya's Golden Boy Promotions overseeing the bout. It was a surprising report on every level.

Ortiz, 43, was given a hero's send-off in 2017 in what was supposed to be his final fight. Liddell, 48, hasn't competed since being forced into retirement by UFC brass in 2010. The kicker? The bout is set to take place under the banner of Golden Boy, a boxing promotion.

Reading between the lines helps to make sense of it, but not in a good way.

Following Liddell's crushing knockout loss at the hands of Rich Franklin (his third in a row at the time), the Ice Man was given a largely ceremonial executive position in the UFC. Unfortunately, while he alleges that UFC President Dana White promised him a job for life, he was among the first people laid off when the promotion was sold to WME-IMG in 2016.

That's sad at face value. It starts getting depressing, however, when one considers that those jobs went exclusively to MMA legends who never openly pursued free agency or publicly played hardball during contract negotiations. It's easy to wonder if Liddell, one of the greatest champions and most beloved figures in UFC history, is dusting off the gloves because he simply didn't make enough money during his 18 years in the fight business to stay retired.

This isn't lost on Ortiz. In 2017, Liddell began pushing for the fight over social media. This was met with Ortiz dismissing the idea in the most biting way possible, sarcastically offering to lend his longtime rival some cash to help him get through any tough times he may be dealing with.

It was an unfortunate reminder of an ugly reality; that no level of success in the UFC actually promises lifelong wealth. 

MMA is the prize-fighting business and while Liddell may have won their past fights, it seems it was Ortiz who won the prizes. In any other walk of life, snarking over someone's financial problems is an ugly thing to do. In combat sports, though, the "haves" taunting the "have nots" is business as usual. 

Meanwhile, as fans and pundits were grappling with the idea of Liddell returning and what it meant, promoters the world over had dollar signs in their eyes. Though Liddell was well past his prime, old favorites retain their drawing power to a shocking degree. For somebody looking to break into the MMA business like De La Hoya, this was a turnkey operation of a fight that could establish his presence in a new sport, make solid money and, perhaps most importantly, get one over on the people he thinks wronged him.

Indeed, despite De La Hoya's attempts to paint the Golden Boy MMA endeavor as a service to the fighters that have been burned as fuel by the UFC machine, there's little reason to believe that his sudden interest in cage fighting is altruistic. When the wheels of Conor McGregor entering boxing began turning, De La Hoya was among the first to try and tap into that gold mine, calling for him to debut opposite Canelo Alvarez in 2016. That excitement turned into frustration when McGregor vs. Floyd Mayweather was announced, which gave way to outright absurdity as time went on.

Though this foray into MMA may just be a business maneuver, it's hard not to remember De La Hoya's reaction to missing out on the McGregor sweepstakes and see him as something of a jilted ex. 

Nothing surrounding this fight feels good...and the fight itself is likely to be even worse.

While Ortiz's 3-1 run in Bellator MMA washed away many of the bad memories fans had of the 1-7-1 skid his UFC career ended on, he still had the look of a fighter on the wrong side of 40. That's still miles better than Liddell, whose final days in the UFC were so ugly that the Scrooge-like Dana White was willing to leave money on the table to force him into retirement.

The most likely outcome for the fight is a boring grind en route to a decision. If it ends inside the distance, it's likely to just leave fans sad when an old favorite is left in an unconscious heap.

From the reasons it came together to the potential outcomes, it's easy to dread Liddell vs. Ortiz 3...but it's also hard to not get drawn into it.

Fighters are, by rule, a uniquely tough breed of human. Physically, they are tasked with all the standard rigors of professional athletics, but with additional herculean requirements like weight cutting and demands of year-round readiness. Mentally, they need to stay psyched up over the idea of being stripped down to their underwear to fight someone in a cage.

Few are capable of doing it. Even fewer are capable of doing it well. And even among that handful, the injuries, the press obligations, the repetitive two-a-day training sessions, the bitter fans and the time away from loved ones all chip away at a fighter's drive.

Elites in their athletic prime have crumbled under those rigors but Ortiz, 21 years into his MMA career, is still living that life. Liddell, eight years removed from a trio of vicious knockout losses, has repeatedly discussed how badly he missed the process during his time away. Both men have an awe-inspiring competitive drive and that fact has shined through each time they've crossed paths over the last 18 months.

Though "these guys hate each other" is a grossly overused trope for hyping a fight, it's clear that the fire still burns between these two. From Liddell's grins during staredowns to Ortiz's sneers at press conferences, the beef feels as legitimate today as it did in 2004. It isn't the combustible "anything can happen" kind of feud that could lead to a hand truck being thrown through a bus window, but it's organic in a way that few things are in today's sport.

When Liddell and Ortiz get into the cage on November 24, fans can expect an honest effort from both men.

Will it be fun? Will it be entertaining? Will it be worth the money? That's impossible to say.

The only guarantee with this fight is that it's going to be real. And reality can be great, or it can be terrible.