The weird thing about UFC 216‘s main event between Tony Ferguson and Kevin Lee?
The difficulty we had in figuring out the point of it.
On the surface, it’s easy: Ferguson and Lee are two really good lightweights. They’re two of the best in the division. Conor McGregor is the champion, but who knows if he’ll ever defend the belt or even fight again. Caught up in the stasis McGregor often leaves in his wake, Ferguson and Lee were the best options available for the UFC to try to keep the division moving along.
They were the last men standing.
And the interim lightweight title was up for grabs, which makes it seem important at first glance. Ferguson won it in dramatic fashion, using a sweet triangle choke after nearly ripping Lee’s arm from the socket.
But interim titles are a standard fallback for the UFC these days. They don’t really mean anything, and that’s because the real championships don’t mean much either. If they meant something, Demetrious Johnson would’ve been in Saturday night’s main event, setting the record for most consecutive UFC title defenses with an utter shellacking of Ray Borg.
That was a historic moment. A true accomplishment.
But instead of being in the main event, Johnson was relegated to supporting act for a title that isn’t even a real thing. And then he finished the very good and yet somehow still hapless Borg with a German suplex that he turned into an armbar in midair. It was literally the greatest submission I’ve ever seen, and one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in sports. But it wasn’t the main event. And that’s dumb.
Yeah, the interim title might just turn into the lightweight title down the road, which makes it feel kind of important. But really, it’s more like you’re getting a free meal size upgrade at your favorite fast food place. Conor McGregor is the lightweight champion (on paper, at least), and we’ve all seen what happens after he wins a championship. Max Holloway, for instance, was interim featherweight champion right up to the point when he wasn’t, when the UFC said some words and instantly made him the actual champion. The odds of the same thing happening at lightweight are pretty good, I’d say.
And maybe, then, this was the Battle to Decide Who Might Get to Face McGregor? Maybe that’s why it was elevated to main event status over Johnson: because it’s a chance to set up the next domino for McGregor, the undisputed biggest draw in UFC history and the man who will likely help WME-IMG decide next year if they’re happy they purchased this UFC thing, or if they made a huge mistake.
But let’s be real: Can you imagine McGregor being super enthused about the idea of facing Ferguson? T-Ferg is a dangerous opponent, and he’s a dangerous opponent without the ability to help boost McGregor’s pay far beyond the UFC norm. And then there was Ferguson’s post-fight callout of McGregor, which consisted largely of shouting expletives and calling McGregor “McNugget,” which is an insult better left on the cutting room floor.
Make no mistake about it: Ferguson was as deserving of this chance as it gets. He had a legitimate winning streak and had beaten some tough competition. Truth be told, he probably should’ve already been in this position at least once, if not twice. Lee? Well, maybe he wasn’t quite as deserving. But the Octagon is the ultimate decider, and Lee went in the cage and proved he belonged in that championship mix. He’s young, he’s brash, he’s got a hell of a personality, and he’s a very good fighter. He’ll be back, and hopefully next time he’ll be back without being accompanied by the staph infection that drained him this time around.
So, another UFC pay-per-view down. To tell you the truth, I still haven’t really recovered from McGregor vs. Mayweather. Nothing feels important. Nothing feels like it’s worth anticipating. We’ve got Georges St-Pierre returning next month to face the middleweight champion, and my anticipation meter is peaking at roughly six out of 10.
But that’s the modern UFC. Things are different these days. Instead of building up anticipation for a big fight that becomes a community gathering point, we’re force-fed an endless stream of fight cards filled with people we’ve never heard of. Everyone gets a championship, so long as it means the UFC gets to put the word “championship” on the fight poster.
And the real shame of it all is that guys like Tony Ferguson, questionable post-fight promo skills aside, aren’t given the spotlight or importance they should be.
Welcome to the new UFC.
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