Will there come a point when we tire of seeing Cris Cyborg obliterate lesser competition simply because it’s the only way we get to see her in the UFC?
I don’t know the answer to that. I don’t even know if it’s a question we should be asking. What I do know is that Saturday night in Las Vegas we saw the latest chapter in a timeworn story.
Cyborg, the UFC’s women’s featherweight champion (and the division’s only member), beat Yana Kunitskaya via first-round bludgeoning to cap off a scintillating UFC 222. Poor Kunitskaya was a spirited foe, as so many of Cyborg’s opponents are, right up until the moment they realize all hope is gone. Kunitskaya even scored an ankle-pick takedown and kept Cyborg on the canvas for a minute or two before succumbing to a TKO.
But Kunitskaya was also a bantamweight making both her UFC promotional debut and featherweight debut in a late-ish notice bout promoted solely to achieve the UFC’s weird goal of having a title of some sort defended in every UFC pay-per-view main event.
She was Joe vs. the Volcano. She was the coyote trying to best the roadrunner. What I’m saying is: We knew the end before the beginning. The very announcement of the fight spoiled its conclusion. And for Kunitskaya, the conclusion came the moment Cyborg got off the canvas. Kunitskaya’s chance was gone, fleeting like the wind. It only took a couple of punches from Justino to turn Kunitskaya’s visage into that of an overmatched, scared competitor. She was in over her head, and she realized it.
And then it was done. Cyborg dropped her to the canvas. Kunitskaya covered her head in the ultimate sign of surrender. The fight was brief, and then it was gone.
None of this is Cyborg’s fault. She’s in the world’s premiere fighting organization. It’s where she should’ve been competing from the beginning. Or at least from the moment president Dana White decided women were marketable enough to put his company’s weight behind.
That she was kept outside the castle walls for so long because of a particularly nasty mix of misogyny and the desire to protect the star power of the UFC’s former golden girl, Ronda Rousey, is, at best, unfortunate.
It’s not her fault that no other woman in the UFC both (a) competes with regularity in her weight class and (b) is good enough to give her more than a reason to get a decent sweat going. Not even Holly Holm, who is indeed good, could do much beyond exhibiting the kind of grit and fortitude needed to last 25 minutes in the cage with Justino.
That Holm was lauded for the accomplishment is particularly indicative of Justino’s place in the world—merely not being forcibly turned ass over tea kettle was an admirable feat.
And, look: It’s not the UFC’s fault, either. It’s doing the best it can in promoting her. That is something, at least—especially when you consider White once compared her to a male fighter and stomped around on stage in one of the more embarrassing acts by a human executive in modern sports history.
Now, the company is pushing her as the terrifying force of nature she is. That’s something akin to progress, even if White still owes her a world of apologies for the hurt he caused over the years.
So what can the UFC do, if it’s already doing what it can? It could make a push to sign more top-tier featherweight fighters. The problem is, there’s no such thing. Sure, there are good fighters out there at 145 pounds, such as Invicta’s Megan Anderson. But Anderson and her ilk are merely good. And good, to speak plainly, is just not good enough.
Cyborg cannot and should not attempt to drop to bantamweight, either. I used to beat the “all she has to do is lose some muscle mass” drum, like many of you, and then I realized how dumb I sounded. Justino is someone who strains to make 145 pounds as it is; asking her to drop a further 10 pounds solely because we want to see her against better fighters is selfish. We shouldn’t do that anymore, especially when we’re all realizing how dumb weight cutting is in the first place.
There’s bantamweight champion Amanda Nunes. She looks like the best of the limited options. And still, she is yet another bantamweight fighter moving up. She’s a better bantamweight than anyone Justino has faced lately. But she’s still a bantamweight, and there isn’t much of a question as to who would win that fight. Justino is Nunes except, you know, much bigger, stronger and better in literally every way a person can be better at fighting than a peer.
What’s the answer? As I wrote earlier, I don’t know. I’m quite certain you don’t, either. Because it feels like this might be a situation where there are no good answers.
What we are left with is the privilege of seeing the greatest fighter in female mixed martial arts history while she plies her trade for the world’s biggest combat promotion. There was a time not long ago when that seemed out of the realm of possibility, and so I suppose one way to look at this thing is to just be grateful we’re able to see her in such a showcase. She deserves the platform. She deserves for the world to see her.
It’s something, at least.
But I can’t help wanting more than just something. More than repeated thrashings of inferior, smaller fighters. More than showcases. And I’m sure Justino would welcome more with open arms and flailing fists.
But maybe this is all there is.
The thing we, you and I and Justino, have to decide is: Is all there is enough to keep us happy?
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