At the weigh-in before the big fight, Daniel Santos fills out forms with his address and medical history and promises not to sue if he dies in the ring. Then he waits. The Tampa hotel conference room buzzes with people who consider themselves raging badasses. And here, Santos is practically furniture. He is 28 years old, trim, just shy of six feet tall, with curly dark hair under a sleek white cap. He hides his dark eyes behind light shades. For the first time in weeks, he is smartly shorn, sporting a soul patch that fades into a near-mustache. He sits -- yawns, bounces his legs, and wobbles his knees. He looks more like a boy-band frontman waiting for a bus than a... More >>>