Court McGee, the once-dead man, now saving lives and breaking addictions with Hope 361

Court McGee’s story is well known. On September 9th, 2005, at 10:56 p.m., the fighter’s heart stopped beating for eight ghostly minutes. He was dead, for all intents and purposes, blown out by a hazy narcotic cocktail at his cousin’s house, before being miraculously resuscitated on a last-ditch effort by EMT workers who were all but resigned to the fate of the lifeless man who lay of the floor.

McGee ultimately parlayed his second chance at life into something far greater than he ever could have imagined, finding salvation in mixed martial arts, compiling an impressive early career record, then claiming gold as the against-all-odds winner of The Ultimate Fighter 11. McGee has become somewhat of a fixture in the UFC since, competing seven times across the middleweight and welterweight division to mixed results.

And while injuries have kept him sidelined thus far in 2014, that time on the shelf has not gone to waste.

McGee’s new venture, Hope361.com, is a non-profit platform for the fighter and former addicts alike to share their inspirational stories, offering words of wisdom, encouragement, and advice to those still wrestling with the darkness of substance abuse or those struggling to help loved ones break the cycle of addiction.

“Drug addition is non-biased,” McGee explained on Monday’s edition of The MMA Hour. “It doesn’t matter where you came from, who you are, religion, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how much money or how little money you have, drug addiction is non-biased, and it tears everybody apart. So we want to be able to provide a tool for people to use for those who are afflicted around them.”

McGee characterizes the mission of Hope 361 by relaying a story of the clinical social worker who launched McGee’s own recovery out from the depths of heroin abuse.

Way back when, as the fighter drowned in his post-overdose fog, McGee’s understandably distraught parents experienced a chance run-in with the unnamed man within the corridors of the emergency room. They expressed their deeply felt confusion as to how to help their addict son, so the man who would serve as McGee’s inadvertent guardian angel introduced the fighter’s parents to the idea of an intensive in-patient treatment facility, ultimately referring them to the specific facility where McGee would regain his grasp on sobriety.

“Had they not come across him, I never would’ve been given the opportunity or put in that place,” McGee said. “I had felony drug charges. I was looking to do time, and those were my options. It was either being incarcerated or dying. I knew no other way to live. I was so deep in my addiction, I had no idea. But because of that guy who knew where to get help, that suggested I go to that treatment facility, I was saved.

“In a sense, we’re being that guy. This is what [addicts] do, this is how they maintain their recovery, this is where they got help, and this is what they do now. That’s what our website does. We’re acting as that person,” explained McGee.

“The person who’s struggling may not get anything from the videos. But I promise you, the loved ones around them who are afflicted the most will see it. My family didn’t know what to do. We are giving them that. … It creates a direction for these people, for their family members or bosses or whoever. It doesn’t matter, whoever has somebody or knows somebody can get on this website, can get the inspiration from the videos, and get direction to where they can get help.”

Last Monday was McGee’s 3,075th straight day of sobriety. He’s had three surgeries this year alone to correct injuries on his right hand and wrist, but all have been non-narcotic. “That’s how I have to live life,” he said simply.

Of late, with the launch of Hope 361, McGee has taken his message on the road, speaking everywhere from prisons in San Luis Obispo County to junior high schools in Emery County, Utah — any place where his story of inspiration may be of some use, even if it touches just one troubled soul out of one-thousand.

In the meantime, he’s also working on an autobiography with the help of mixed martial arts journalist E. Spencer Kyte, while grinding through an hour worth of physical therapy a day to rehabilitate his wrist and hand. McGee hopes to return to the UFC by next spring. It’s slow going, but even on the sidelines, he’s not letting the speed bumps of life get him down.

And in the end, it all comes back to the genesis of Hope 361. There was a time when McGee’s reality was nothing but that cycle of negativity and abuse. A self-perpetuating, self-eating circle that ultimately led his death, however brief it may have been.

But that one moment, that one shift when everything changed — that is the gift McGee will forever be grateful for. Now it is his turn to pay it forward.

“360 degrees is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results,” McGee said. “But if you change that one degree … anything is possible.

“The [emergency] workers said I didn’t have a (heart) response for eight minutes and so I shouldn’t be here. But because of a few unusual circumstances, I was given a new direction in life. I was inspired by being of service to a wrestling team to start competing and it went from one thing to another, until pretty soon I’m fighting on the biggest stage in the world. I want to use this to create hope, inspiration, and give direction to those who are afflicted. And in doing that, it’s given me a life beyond my wildest dreams.”

Court McGee’s story is well known. On September 9th, 2005, at 10:56 p.m., the fighter’s heart stopped beating for eight ghostly minutes. He was dead, for all intents and purposes, blown out by a hazy narcotic cocktail at his cousin’s house, before being miraculously resuscitated on a last-ditch effort by EMT workers who were all but resigned to the fate of the lifeless man who lay of the floor.

McGee ultimately parlayed his second chance at life into something far greater than he ever could have imagined, finding salvation in mixed martial arts, compiling an impressive early career record, then claiming gold as the against-all-odds winner of The Ultimate Fighter 11. McGee has become somewhat of a fixture in the UFC since, competing seven times across the middleweight and welterweight division to mixed results.

And while injuries have kept him sidelined thus far in 2014, that time on the shelf has not gone to waste.

McGee’s new venture, Hope361.com, is a non-profit platform for the fighter and former addicts alike to share their inspirational stories, offering words of wisdom, encouragement, and advice to those still wrestling with the darkness of substance abuse or those struggling to help loved ones break the cycle of addiction.

“Drug addition is non-biased,” McGee explained on Monday’s edition of The MMA Hour. “It doesn’t matter where you came from, who you are, religion, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how much money or how little money you have, drug addiction is non-biased, and it tears everybody apart. So we want to be able to provide a tool for people to use for those who are afflicted around them.”


McGee characterizes the mission of Hope 361 by relaying a story of the clinical social worker who launched McGee’s own recovery out from the depths of heroin abuse.

Way back when, as the fighter drowned in his post-overdose fog, McGee’s understandably distraught parents experienced a chance run-in with the unnamed man within the corridors of the emergency room. They expressed their deeply felt confusion as to how to help their addict son, so the man who would serve as McGee’s inadvertent guardian angel introduced the fighter’s parents to the idea of an intensive in-patient treatment facility, ultimately referring them to the specific facility where McGee would regain his grasp on sobriety.

“Had they not come across him, I never would’ve been given the opportunity or put in that place,” McGee said. “I had felony drug charges. I was looking to do time, and those were my options. It was either being incarcerated or dying. I knew no other way to live. I was so deep in my addiction, I had no idea. But because of that guy who knew where to get help, that suggested I go to that treatment facility, I was saved.

“In a sense, we’re being that guy. This is what [addicts] do, this is how they maintain their recovery, this is where they got help, and this is what they do now. That’s what our website does. We’re acting as that person,” explained McGee.

“The person who’s struggling may not get anything from the videos. But I promise you, the loved ones around them who are afflicted the most will see it. My family didn’t know what to do. We are giving them that. … It creates a direction for these people, for their family members or bosses or whoever. It doesn’t matter, whoever has somebody or knows somebody can get on this website, can get the inspiration from the videos, and get direction to where they can get help.”

Last Monday was McGee’s 3,075th straight day of sobriety. He’s had three surgeries this year alone to correct injuries on his right hand and wrist, but all have been non-narcotic. “That’s how I have to live life,” he said simply.

Of late, with the launch of Hope 361, McGee has taken his message on the road, speaking everywhere from prisons in San Luis Obispo County to junior high schools in Emery County, Utah — any place where his story of inspiration may be of some use, even if it touches just one troubled soul out of one-thousand.

In the meantime, he’s also working on an autobiography with the help of mixed martial arts journalist E. Spencer Kyte, while grinding through an hour worth of physical therapy a day to rehabilitate his wrist and hand. McGee hopes to return to the UFC by next spring. It’s slow going, but even on the sidelines, he’s not letting the speed bumps of life get him down.

And in the end, it all comes back to the genesis of Hope 361. There was a time when McGee’s reality was nothing but that cycle of negativity and abuse. A self-perpetuating, self-eating circle that ultimately led his death, however brief it may have been.

But that one moment, that one shift when everything changed — that is the gift McGee will forever be grateful for. Now it is his turn to pay it forward.

“360 degrees is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results,” McGee said. “But if you change that one degree … anything is possible.

“The [emergency] workers said I didn’t have a (heart) response for eight minutes and so I shouldn’t be here. But because of a few unusual circumstances, I was given a new direction in life. I was inspired by being of service to a wrestling team to start competing and it went from one thing to another, until pretty soon I’m fighting on the biggest stage in the world. I want to use this to create hope, inspiration, and give direction to those who are afflicted. And in doing that, it’s given me a life beyond my wildest dreams.”