Author: Jonathan Snowden

Every second of silence feels like forever when that quiet overwhelms a national television broadcast. UFC, in particular, doesn’t allow even an instant of quiet solitude. Whether it’s the roar of the crowd, the nonstop hucksterism of an announce crew with a million products to sell or the various sound effects Fox appends to each show, quiet is decidedly not part of the process.

Perhaps that’s why it felt like Nate Diaz (18-10) was having a moment immediately after his emphatic return to the UFC Octagon against rising star Michael Johnson.

There was no actual silence, of course. The audience at home could see the ever-voluble Diaz gesticulating wildly as color commentator Joe Rogan looked on with what could only be described as amused awe.

But at home, there was dead quiet. Diaz, in his fashion, had delivered a diatribe so foul and F-bomb-filled that Fox’s censors were overwhelmed, choosing silence instead of risking the fine-able offense of missing an expletive and inviting trouble.

In a way, it was appropriate. Diaz overwhelmed the censors just as he had Johnson. For 15 minutes, he kept up his usual blistering pace. For much of it, Johnson matched him blow for blow. But in that third round, and beyond as poor Rogan discovered, Diaz was every bit as strong as he was in the opening frame.

“Diaz was able to keep throwing punches through the whole fight at the same pace. He kept landing the jab and then working in the combinations with the left,” UFC light heavyweight champion and Fox Sports commentator Daniel Cormier said after the fight. “This guy is a player if he’s serious. If Nate Diaz has his mental game intact, he can beat anybody in this division.”

For Diaz, who has been out of the cage for more than a year, it was an extraordinary return to form. But while he certainly announced himself as a lightweight contender, it would be unfair to try to limit Diaz’s impact to mere sport. There’s something about a Diaz fight, as Bloody Elbow’s Tim Burke explained, that can turn regular old cage fighting into some kind of performance art:

Nate Diaz made MMA fun for 15 minutes. I mean, it’s always fun to a degree – we all like the punchy kicky. But the typical Diaz antics just make for better theater, and it always helps when he’s beating up his opponent while doing it. He got Michael Johnson off of his game, and it helped him to win the fight.

The “typical Diaz antics”—much like those of his older brother, Nick—include the kind antisocial behavior that would draw dozens of flags in the National Football League. Diaz taunts opponents without mercy, alternating between mean mug stares and dismissive smiles, each sneer a message that, no you can’t hurt him and, yes, he can and will hurt you.

At one point in the bout, he literally stopped what he was doing to point and laugh at an ineffectual Johnson sequence. Later he slapped his opponent with an open hand, then pantomimed doing exactly that. You know, just in case anyone had missed the emasculating moment.

When he rolled for a kneebar long after the final bell rang, then tossed his hands up into the air in triumph, it was a the perfect cherry for what had become a classic Diaz sundae.

Heated banter before the fight? Check.

Confrontation that nearly spiraled out of control? Check.

Swarming, offensive boxing that eventually wears his opponent down? Postfight shenanigans? Check and check.

It was everything we have come to expect from the Diaz brothers, athletes who delight and dismay depending on a fan’s point of view. To some they are a caustic reminder of the sport’s course origins. To others, they are a welcome respite in a world where the notion of respect at times feels equal parts compulsory and smarmy.

Everyone is a product of their environment. If the Diaz brothers are rude, crude and socially unacceptable, it’s because that’s exactly what it took to survive their childhood in Stockton, California, at one point listed among the most miserable cities in America by Forbes. It’s there where MMA Fighting’s Ben Fowlkes wrote that the Diaz ethos was created and nurtured:

These days it was strip malls and chain stores, but it had been much worse in the years prior. Growing up here, Diaz learned a certain tough guy code before he learned anything else. He learned how not to stare at people, and yet how not to look away. He learned when trouble was about to start up, and how to make other people believe he was ready for it.

If it all feels familiar, that’s because new UFC featherweight champion Conor McGregor has combined the Diaz’s antisocial tendencies with former middleweight contender Chael Sonnen’s gift for gab to create the most compelling act in MMA history. It makes sense, then, that Diaz would direct that already infamous postfight rant in McGregor’s direction.

“F–k that,” Diaz said. “Conor McGregor, you’re taking everything I worked for, motherf–ker. I’m gonna fight your f–king ass. You know what’s the real fight, what’s the real money fight — me. Not these clowns that you already punked at the press conference. Ain’t nobody wants to see that. You know you can beat them already. It’s an easy fight. You want the real s–t. Right here.”

McGregor, who has indicated a desire to move up to 155 pounds, immediately met fire with fire.

“Line them up on their knees with their hands out,” McGregor wrote on Twitter. “I want them to beg me.”

While brother Nick has been in several blockbusters, including bouts with certain first-ballot Hall of Famers Anderson Silva and Georges St-Pierre, McGregor’s presence would provide a spotlight brighter than any Nate has ever seen. While he once fought Benson Henderson for the lightweight title, Henderson’s star shines with a different wattage than McGregor’s.

At this point, a McGregor fight would be the biggest of almost anyone’s career. (Warning: Video contains NSFW language.)

“Conor did a great job. He did a great job,” Diaz told MMA Fighting’s Ariel Helwani (transcription by MMAMania). “That’s what you’re supposed to do. If he wants to come up and get the money fight, get the good fight. You know where that’s at.”

If the bout should happen, it would immediately become one of 2016’s most anticipated fights, an amazing stylistic matchup almost guaranteed to be a fight-of-the-year-caliber scrap.

 

Jonathan Snowden covers combat sports for Bleacher Report.

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com

Conor McGregor is the brightest flame to ever shine its light on the mixed martial arts scene. His is a rare wattage, a unique charisma that has both single-handedly driven the nation of Ireland MMA-crazy and helped launch the nascent sport into the American mainstream.

His UFC career is just two years and six fights long, and already the legendary moments are legion. Whether he was charming his comedic doppelganger Conan O’Brien or leaping from the cage to confront champion Jose Aldo, McGregor has shown a gift for both identifying and capitalizing on the moment.

Along with Ronda Rousey, he’s helped redefine what it means to be a star in the modern UFC.

But lost in the chaos that surrounds McGregor—everything from the claim that he could whoop Jesus to his Single White Female style-jacking of a random male model—is something central to his brand.

McGregor is not just a roaring mouth, not merely the product of a cynical marketing campaign designed to manufacture an attraction. He’s also one of the most exciting martial artists to emerge in years. And he has a very real chance of upsetting the only featherweight champion the UFC has ever known.

On first glance, McGregor‘s ring style is as flashy as one of his custom Ted Baker suits. But his vast array of spinning kicks, flying knees and constant chatter belies the relative simplicity of his attack.

There is no stealth to his approach. Everything the Irishman does is purposeful, with one end in mind—landing the most powerful left hand the featherweight division has ever seen.

As Jack Slack wrote on Fightland, the left hand is not just McGregor‘s bread and butter. It’s his steak, potato and desert aperitif as well.

“From day one, it has been McGregor‘s money punch. In fact, in most of his matches, it’s the only meaningful punch,” he wrote. “He rarely jabs, he only really hooks when he’s got his man hurt and unresponsive, it’s that pinpoint left straight which does the job.”

McGregor, of course, is not merely a left-handed puncher.

He is passion, power and action, the pride of a nation powering him to greatness. He’s a student as well, taking in the known universe of martial techniques and pulling out only those that lend themselves to his aims.

He does many things right technically. He moves well, utilizing a wide stance more commonly seen in the traditional martial arts, constantly putting himself into position do unleash his heavy hands. If an opponent is mad enough to put himself in punching range, McGregor does a good job of countering and mixes in spinning body kicks to punish anyone who leans too far right in order to avoid his powerful left hand.

Technique, however, is not the driver behind McGregor‘s success. Instead, it’s an unconquerable will that pushed him beyond where others are willing to go. He pursues the finish at all costs, willing to pay any price to deliver his own punishment.

Bleacher Report’s Patrick Wyman explained that he sets a pace few in the sport can match:

He simply never lets up, and when the opponent inevitably backs up to the fence, McGregor really goes to work. His flurries are vicious and he picks his shots beautifully, going around, under and through his opponent’s guard. If they try to circle away, toward McGregor’s right hand, he excels at pivoting and throwing a clean left hand as they overcommit and escape.

In combat sports, the battle is usually won by whoever gets there first. It’s easy to be brave from a distance, but few are willing to face the best another man has to offer up close and personal. The line between wisdom and cowardice is thin—but it’s one McGregor never comes close to approaching.

McGregor doesn’t skulk away from his foes’ strengths. He meets them with his head held high and a sneer planted on his face.

His is a young man’s game. There is no long-term future for a fighter willing to take his opponent’s best punches to deliver his own thudding blows. As Bloody Elbow’s Connor Ruebusch explained, fighters with that style amount to a flame that burns with a rare intensity but doesn’t shine for long:

When a man’s usual strategy comes down to “I can take his shots and he can’t take mine,” his eventual destination seems pretty clear. The downfall comes eventually. But right now, while McGregor is in the prime of his youth and the peak of his powers, that unshakable belief makes him a veritable force of nature, and a terrifying opponent for any sane fighter.

For now, McGregor can absorb the right hands Chad Mendes has used to send many men to Morpheus’ domain. He can even do it with a grin, confident that—with time—his own punches will enact a larger toll.

McGregor may be able to do the same with Aldo. After all, few fighters leave the sport on their own terms. Even the greatest warriors eventually meet someone who can best them. It takes just a moment to destroy the legacy another man took a lifetime to build.

On Saturday at UFC 194, McGregor will look to close the book on Aldo’s long reign.

 

Jonathan Snowden covers combat sports for Bleacher Report.

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com

Every Thanksgiving we press pause on our hectic lives and gather together with family and friends to give thanks for the blessings, no matter how small, that make our worlds a better place. It’s a solemn time, a chance to think about the world we occupy and how we can best make a difference.

And then, after those five minutes are up, we proceed to ignore each other in order to watch football and surf Twitter on our phones.

Most of you likely don’t spare a thought for the martial arts, mixed or otherwise, during these intimate moments with your loved ones. Luckily the Bleacher Report MMA team is not nearly so well adjusted.

I asked Jeremy Botter, Patrick Wyman and Nathan McCarter to think for a moment about MMA on this special day. Give it a read before the turkey puts you to sleep. Offer your own thanks in the comments below.

 

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Jason High barely remembers the moment that changed his life last June. He has a left hand from current UFC lightweight champion Rafael dos Anjos to thank for that. It was a punch that wobbled his legs, sent him tumbling to the mat and ultimately cost him his livelihood. 

In the fog of war as referee Kevin Mulhall stopped the fight and awarded victory to Dos Anjos, a confused High shoved the official as he attempted to explain what happened. UFC announcers never mentioned it on the broadcast. There were no injuries, and no sense of dread accompanied it.

It was a dazed fighter who was trying to process events. But for High, who fights Estevan Payan on NBC Sports Network Friday night, it was a momentary lapse that had permanent consequences.

“I didn’t remember most of it,” High told Bleacher Report. “The commissioner came up to me in the locker room and I wondered ‘Is he talking to the right person?’ I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. I thought he had mistook me for someone else. I asked (manager) Mike (Kogan) ‘what’s he talking about?’ And he told me that when I’d gotten up off the ground I pushed the referee. As soon as I got on Twitter I saw GIFs of it everywhere and thought ‘Oh my God.’

“I thought when we appealed it they’d take into account that I’d taken a good punch and wasn’t 100 percent. Anybody who’s ever taken a blow to the head knows the next 30 minutes or so you can feel like you’re walking around on a cloud.”

No such nuance was considered in the aftermath. A favorite of fans on Twitter for his approachability and easygoing nature, High found himself in unfamiliar territory. Suddenly, the hero was wearing the black hat.

UFC President Dana White cut him from his contract without even watching the video. High, like so many fighters, wasn’t a person as much as a cog in the UFC machine. Someone else would come in, and the machine would keep churning. That’s the fight game.

“I’m not going to beg anybody for an opportunity and I kind of had to move past it,” High said. “And now you can see there are a lot of fighters really unhappy with the situation over there. And I can see why. So maybe that’s the silver lining.”

Harder to take was the official adjudication. New Mexico suspended him for a year. That meant he wasn’t just gone from the UFC—he was gone from fighting period. Already 33, High had to confront some hard choices about where his life was going.

“I’d be lying if I said quitting didn’t cross my mind. I had a lot of time to mull it over,” High said. “I did the math and realized I would be 34 before I got to fight again. It was definitely discouraging. When I was about a quarter of the way through it I wavered and thought ‘maybe I should retire.’ My manager and (partner) Ann (Gaffigan) brought me back from that cliff. They were both really, really against it. They were both vehement and that was encouraging.”

Gaffigan knew from experience how hard it is to give up the sport you love. A runner who once held the American record in the steeplechase, she told High that he couldn’t possibly walk away on anything less than his own terms.

“It would have been the worst time. Nobody wants to end their career like that,” she said. “Imagine the conversations ‘You still fighting?’ ‘Nah. I got suspended for pushing a ref and I don’t know man, I just decided not to get back into it.’ That sucks. He’s been fighting for more than 10 years. It can’t end like that. I feel like he hasn’t really had the chance to show what he can do. 

“I told him ‘you can’t go out like that. That’s not you and you have a lot more to show people. You can push this down in the Google search results and let people see all the skills you haven’t been able to show yet.’ I know that 34 sounds so old for an athlete. But he takes good care of himself, he doesn’t have any residual injuries, and he’s still got a lot of hunger.”

Instead of giving up, High decided to do what he’s always done—work. Training at his own American Top Team HD gym in Lenexa, Kansas, he rediscovered his love for the game.

“He kept training every day because that’s what he does. It’s an outlet for these guys,” Gaffigan said. “I don’t train with him every day MMA-wise, but I do make him run on the track. And I can tell you, in terms of conditioning he’s in the best shape of his life. But training without anything to look forward to is pretty tough. It’s a daily reminder. 

“People who don’t know him that well would constantly ask ‘when’s your next fight?’ And he’d have to decide how much he wanted to tell them. Because it’s embarrassing. He’s not the kind of guy anyone would expect would be suspended, and it was hard for him to have to explain himself. I think it’s the hardest part.”

The result, High says, is a fighter who is much improved—and  a fighter who believes, after 23 bouts in 13 promotions, that he’s ready to take a run at the top. Friday night will be his first chance in 17 months to show the world what he can do.

“I feel pretty good man. I hope I’m not the same fighter I was before the suspension,” High said. “If a year’s passed and you haven’t gotten better, you aren’t doing your job. My body feels great, and I’m confident in my technique. 

“I want to be a world champion. And I really think at World Series I can do that. I thought I could do it in the UFC too. I can be in the discussion and be up there at the top of the division.”

 

Jonathan Snowden covers combat sports for Bleacher Report.

Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com