Ex-teacher a quick learner in UFC

Think of this as your child's first impression of kindergarten: You get the little one dressed all nice and sweet for the big transition from home to more formal schooling. Spider-Man backpack. SpongeBob lunch box. The works.

You show up early on the first day with video camera in hand. The tears begin to flow. The door swings open.

It's a giant.

Your child shrieks and runs down the hallway.

Scratch that last part. It seems the eight tykes who made up the kindergarten class taught by Tim Hague in the speck-on-a-map town of Rochester, Alberta, last year adored their 6-foot-4-inch, 275-pound instructor.

What isn't fun about having a teacher who can throw all eight at once around in the snow at recess?

"I had a blast," Hague said. "Eight students and one aide."

(I can hear Clark County School District teachers cursing him now.)

So how does Hague go from helping Little Johnny open his juice box to the Ultimate Fighting Championship?

He teaches at a school so small, only two children enroll for kindergarten the following year.

"My position got cut, so I said, 'I'm going to fight,' " Hague said.

It might not beat reading "Curious George" before naptime, but it seems to be working out.

Hague on Saturday night won his UFC debut with a first-round win against Pat Barry in an undercard heavyweight bout of UFC 98 at the MGM Grand Garden.

Hague took a straight left to the nose, stumbled back, baited Barry to rush, took his opponent to the floor and won by tap-out off a Guillotine choke at 1:43.

Then the giant got up and put on his T-shirt and began to cry.

"All I could think about was my wife and nine-month-old son (Brady), and what this means to my family," Hague said. "It feels like our lives have changed. I hope they have. I can't wait to fight again."

This is one of the best things about UFC. This kind of journey. One where a guy can take a skill from another sport and train to be proficient in mixed martial arts. Hague is Canadian, so you know where he did most of his fighting growing up.

"Yeah, but hockey fights only last 20 seconds," he said. "This is much better."

He was too big and slow on skates to make his college team, so Hague played Junior B because he needed to get in some scraps while earning his teaching credential at the University of Alberta.

He also joined a powerlifting team. He took jiu-jitsu lessons and learned about kickboxing and how best to submit someone. "I trained," Hague said, "with a lot of badasses back home."

But his first pro fight wasn't until September 2006, which means he still knows a heck of a lot more about backchecks than what it might take to beat this sport's elite.

That could change in time.

This part probably won't: His wife of one year still can't bear to watch.

"I'm usually the one hiding in the bathroom crying the whole time," Brianne said. "But I toughed it out (Saturday) because this is the UFC -- I just kept my head covered and didn't know what was going on. ... This is where his heart is. When he told me he was leaving teaching for this, I just wanted him to be happy. It's scary, but he loves it.

"If the time comes where he wants to go back to teaching kindergartners, I'll be for that. It will be a lot safer."

It doesn't appear that will happen any time soon. Hague at 26 has found the octagon an addicting force.

He has good hands, thanks to all those days playing hockey. He's strong on the ground. He now has a pro record of 10-1.

Teaching was a beginning.

Fighting, it seems, is a calling.

"Teaching was great," Hague said. "The kids taught me to stay on top of things. I would go back if I had to. But probably only to the younger grades. The older kids have too much attitude. They know I can't do anything physical to them.

"The little kids are just scared of my size, right? So they always behave."

The lesson to take from all this: When the door opens on the first day of kindergarten for your little angel and the video camera is rolling, don't panic if a giant walks out.

He might only roar in a cage.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ed Graney can be reached at 702-383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.