UFC 172 wasn’t terribly interesting on paper. “Who cares about Jon Jones vs. Glover Teixeira and a bunch of other mismatches?” we all asked. And we were right to. MMA had been in a slump. Good cards were sparse–islands in a sea terrible TUF finales, awful Fight Pass exclusives, and PPVs not worth the $60 price tag.
Last night changed all that (well, it did if you ignore UFC 173)
I know what you’re thinking. “Tone down the hyperbole a bit, Matt…and by a bit we mean several orders of magnitude.” Let me explain.
UFC 172 wasn’t terribly interesting on paper. “Who cares about Jon Jones vs. Glover Teixeira and a bunch of other mismatches?” we all asked. And we were right to. MMA had been in a slump. Good cards were sparse—islands in a sea terrible TUF finales, awful Fight Pass exclusives, and PPVs not worth the $60 price tag.
Last night changed all that (well, it did if you ignore UFC 173)
I know what you’re thinking. “Tone down the hyperbole a bit, Matt…and by a bit we mean several orders of magnitude.” Let me explain.
This clever taunt can be turned into a meaningful feud with the right promotion. Why not match up Correia with Shayna Baszler and market it as a grudge match? The women’s bantamweight division is shallow and pallid. There’s not much talent, and there’s even less buzz around anyone not named Ronda Rousey. Even though a potential Four Horsewoman vs. Bethe Correia feud still technically involves Rousey in some capacity, it’ll at least attempt to create some kind of narrative in the weight class other than “Ronda Rousey vs. Opponent. Buy it.”
Lightweight, too, had its fire rekindled. Jim Miller choked Yancy Medeiros unconscious in a wondrous display of grappling technique (and violence). But better than that was his post-fight call out of practically the entire lightweight division—Khabib Nurmagomedov, Donald “Cowboy” Cerrone, and more. Jim Miller’s aggressiveness is welcome in a division lacking its champion as well as perennial shit-starter Nate Diaz. Miller-Nurmagomedov or Miller-Cerrone are both great matches—ones that make MMA what it should be: Fights between the most talented fighters.
An honorable mention goes to Luke Rockhold‘s unreal domination of Tim Boetsch. While this was a sight to behold; it didn’t necessarily shake the division up. Middleweight was intriguing enough.
The most interesting development of all, however, was Anthony “Rumble” Johnson‘s resurgence. Johnson made Phil Davis (who’s built like a comic book superhero) not only look like a neophyte wrestler, but a neophyte wrestler who was about three weight classes lighter. In a division where Jon Jones rules over everyone with an iron elbow, a new, viable contender is not only welcomed but necessary. Before Johnson’s fight, the only meaningful light heavyweight fight on the horizon was Jon Jones-Alexander Gustafsson II. Now we have Anthony Johnson carving a bloody path through the light heavyweight top-10 to look forwards to.
MMA had been in a rut the last few months. Some recent fight cards have made fans never want to watch MMA again. This card wasn’t one of them. UFC 172 helped MMA not suck. There’s stuff to look forward to now. Let’s hope the trend continues.
He shuffles forward on stiff legs, his arms occasionally jabbing out in slow, tired fashion. There is a man standing across the cage who advances and strikes him. A blow to the head. He staggers, but still shuffles forward, like something undead. Twice more he is struck in the head. With the third blow he goes stiff, like a corpse already in the grip of rigor mortis. He topples backwards like a stricken tree, to lay rigid and unmoving.
Sound familiar? Well, it should. It was the main event of UFC Fight Night in Abu Dhabi between Roy Nelson and Antônio Rodrigo Nogueira. (Watch the carnage here.) It was a fight that, bottom line, shouldn’t have happened. Nogueira has suffered the most knockdowns (8) in UFC heavyweight history, and his previous knockout losses to Frank Mir and Cain Velasquez proved that Big Nog’s formerly armor-plated chin was becoming vulnerable. So why put him in the Octagon with one of the most devastating right hands in the UFC?
This kind of thing has become common in MMA.
MMA promotions have made it a habit to put beaten and tired legends of the sport in fights that they can’t hope to win. Look no further than Nelson vs. Nogueira, Overeem vs. Mir, Cro Cop vs. Mir/Schaub/Nelson. The UFC assumes that fans want to see these fights, but really, only a certain kind of fan wants to see these fights — the same fans who would gladly watch George Foreman and Muhammad Ali go at it again. One more time. For old times’ sake.
He shuffles forward on stiff legs, his arms occasionally jabbing out in slow, tired fashion. There is a man standing across the cage who advances and strikes him. A blow to the head. He staggers, but still shuffles forward, like something undead. Twice more he is struck in the head. With the third blow he goes stiff, like a corpse already in the grip of rigor mortis. He topples backwards like a stricken tree, to lay rigid and unmoving.
Sound familiar? Well, it should. It was the main event of UFC Fight Night in Abu Dhabi between Roy Nelson and Antônio Rodrigo Nogueira. (Watch the carnage here.) It was a fight that, bottom line, shouldn’t have happened. Nogueira has suffered the most knockdowns (8) in UFC heavyweight history, and his previous knockout losses to Frank Mir and Cain Velasquez proved that Big Nog’s formerly armor-plated chin was becoming vulnerable. So why put him in the Octagon with one of the most devastating right hands in the UFC?
This kind of thing has become common in MMA.
MMA promotions have made it a habit to put beaten and tired legends of the sport in fights that they can’t hope to win. Look no further than Nelson vs. Nogueira, Overeem vs. Mir, Cro Cop vs. Mir/Schaub/Nelson. The UFC assumes that fans want to see these fights, but really, only a certain kind of fan wants to see these fights — the same fans who would gladly watch George Foreman and Muhammad Ali go at it again. One more time. For old times’ sake.
Let me preface this by saying that I am a HUGE Dan Henderson fan. I still sit and watch old clips of Henderson wasting some of the greatest welter-, middle-, light heavy-, and heavyweights of all time. Henderson knocking out Fedor Emelianenko with an uppercut from behind is still one of the greatest performances in MMA history in my book, but let’s be real — Dan Henderson, 43, is old to be fighting at the top level in the UFC. Sure, others have had success at that age, and Henderson just picked up another come-from-behind win over Mauricio “Shogun” Rua at UFC Fight Night Natal. However, Henderson lost three in a row before that, including a knockout loss via vicious head kick to Vitor Belfort.
Apart from being nearly a decade younger than Henderson, Daniel “DC” Cormier is coming off of, well, no losses. Ever. The former Strikeforce Champion is undefeated in 14 fights and, prior to his move down to light heavyweight, he was the #2 heavyweight in the world. You need only look at the purple face of Patricks Cummins after his 79-second bout with DC at UFC 170 to see how hard Cormier hits.
To beat the unbeaten Cormier, Henderson has to put on the best performance of his life. At 43 years old and after dropping TRT, that seems awfully far-fetched.
Henderson should have been given the chance to take his TRT-less body for a test drive before facing elite competition. And ideally, Henderson should have been offered a grappler as his next opponent, who, worst-case scenario, could have submitted him without damaging a brain that has already taken a beating. No one wants to see Henderson with Cro-Cop-esque twitches.
So why would the UFC put Dan Henderson in the Octagon with Daniel Cormier?
The UFC is sacrificing Dan Henderson as DC’s first legitimate test at light-heavyweight, because Henderson has name value and he draws viewers — not because the matchup is competitive. Watching Henderson fight is nostalgic. It reminds us of better days when we actually liked the LHW champ, Randy Couture was (literally) spanking Tito Ortiz, CagePotato was but a little CageSpud, Pride existed, and Don Frye was still shooting his mouth off…well, some things never change.
Someone (you know who you are) needs to comes to their senses and stop sacrificing legends for viewers. Put them in the Hall Of Fame where they belong and treat them with the respect they deserve.
To surprisingly little reaction this weekend, Bellator announced that the lineup for Bellator 120: Alvarez vs. Chandler 3 — also known as the promotion’s first pay-per-view event — has been set. (Bellator 120 goes down Saturday, May 17th, at the Landers Center in Southaven, Mississippi.) Don’t worry, Bellator has clearly learned from their whole “plan a pay-per-view around two old guys and some fading UFC castoffs” phase. But are there enough intriguing, quality fights on this lineup to justify paying for a Bellator event? Let’s look over the fight card and determine for ourselves.
All nine of the fights for Bellator 120 — four Spike preliminaries, five main card contests — have been ranked solely by my interest in watching them. If you disagree, feel free to write some terrible things about me in the comments section. I look forward to ignoring them.
I don’t think either fighter is even capable of a boring match, much less a boring match against each other. I could type paragraph after paragraph on how their first two encounters resulted in two of the greatest fights in our sport’s history, and how…oh why am I even trying to pretend that I’m not going to insert an Al Bundy GIF and move along to the next fight:
To surprisingly little reaction this weekend, Bellator announced that the lineup for Bellator 120: Alvarez vs. Chandler 3 — also known as the promotion’s first pay-per-view event — has been set. (Bellator 120 goes down Saturday, May 17th, at the Landers Center in Southaven, Mississippi.) Don’t worry, Bellator has clearly learned from their whole “plan a pay-per-view around two old guys and some fading UFC castoffs” phase. But are there enough intriguing, quality fights on this lineup to justify paying for a Bellator event? Let’s look over the fight card and determine for ourselves.
All nine of the fights for Bellator 120 — four Spike preliminaries, five main card contests — have been ranked solely by my interest in watching them. If you disagree, feel free to write some terrible things about me in the comments section. I look forward to ignoring them.
I don’t think either fighter is even capable of a boring match, much less a boring match against each other. I could type paragraph after paragraph on how their first two encounters resulted in two of the greatest fights in our sport’s history, and how…oh why am I even trying to pretend that I’m not going to insert an Al Bundy GIF and move along to the next fight:
The go-home show before a pay-per-view is extremely influential on buy rates, which is the only reason why I’m assuming this fight isn’t on the main card. These guys have been with Bellator for ages, and always produce fun, exciting fights. I’d be more than willing to pay for this one; not that I’m complaining about getting it on cable.
This fight is such a freak show, random, “Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” pairing that Ben Askren has already labeled it a work. Why wouldn’t I be looking forward to it?
(Preliminary Card) Mike Richman vs. Goiti Yamauchi
Back at Bellator 110, it appeared that these two would crush their opponents and meet up in the next round of Bellator’s featherweight tournament. It looked like such an obvious conclusion that I advised you all to bet money on both men winning. Naturally, neither guy advanced, so Bellator booked these two to kick off the preliminaries of their inaugural pay-per-view, because of course this is a thing that’s happening. As forced as this fight feels, I’m not going to act like I won’t at least watch it.
Call me crazy, but I firmly believe that Bellator’s “Sign the UFC’s leftovers” business model isn’t so much an attempt to gain viewers by trotting out guys that fight fans used to sort-of care about as it is an attempt to quell the “These guys haven’t beaten anybody!” criticisms of their roster. In other words, Cheick Kongo isn’t the guy they want, he’s the guy they want to lose to the guys they want. Because, let’s face it, Bellator Heavyweight Champion Vitaly Minakov’s victory over Cup-Cheick did more to establish him as a legitimate heavyweight to most fight fans than a victory over a stoic, doughy Russian they’ve never heard of would have. I’ll pause for you to make your own “Who is Vitaly Minakov?” jokes, I guess (I hope you feel really good about yourself for that super original joke, by the way).
Essentially, Bellator is using Kongo as a “jobber to the stars:” a guy who can beat the not-quite-readies, but isn’t a threat to beat any of the promotion’s top heavyweights. This means that every once in a while they’ll have to book him in squash matches against 6-1-1 nobodies so fans will continue to perceive him as a threat, making his losses against the fighters Bellator actually wants to push seem that much more significant. This fight is a necessary evil, is what I’m saying.
(Main Card) Alexander Shlemenko vs. Whoever Bellator Finds to Replace Tito Ortiz at the Last Minute
(Preliminary Card) Heavyweight Tournament Final: Alexander Volkov vs. Blagoi Ivanov
Yes, Bellator’s heavyweight bouts tend to quickly reduce themselves to two guys sloppily waltzing through a “What’s cardio?” display of all things garbage-ass, but I really like the stoic Russian with an “-ov” in his last name. He’s a beast, and should be a legitimate threat to Vitaly Minakov’s unblemished record.
(Main Card) Will Brooks vs. Nate Jolly
Leave it to Bellator to put a popcorn match on the main card of their first-ever pay-per-view. Nate Jolly has never fought for Bellator, and it’s not like he’s a name that casual fans would at least recognize. If they wanted to use the regional star to entice the locals to buy tickets, there’s no reason why they couldn’t put this fight on the preliminaries and bump Mike Richman vs. Goiti Yamauchi to the main card. Likewise, if they wanted to use this fight to get Will Brooks — a 13-1 fighter who has gone 5-1 in Bellator — over with the fans, then why not book Brooks against a fighter that the average Bellator fan would actually recognize?
I’m not trying to insult either fighter/say that the fight will be boring just because I’m not heavily invested in it/deny that climate change is real/whatever it is that MMA fans automatically assume whenever someone writes that they aren’t very interested in an upcoming fight, I’m just saying that I’m really not that interested in this bout.
UFC on FOX 11 was one of the better cards in recent memory, but nobody outside of the MMA bubble cared.
It pulled in only 1.98 million viewers—the lowest ever for a UFC event on Fox and a 27% decline from UFC on FOX 10. The fight card lost out to every other major network in total viewers, and only beat CBS in the key 18-49 demo.
“Fighting is in our DNA,” Dana White likes to maintain. It’s a universal action that everyone understands. If a fight breaks out, everyone stops what they’re doing to watch it. Fighting is raw, visceral, but somehow pure and sacrosanct. It has been part of humanity since the first caveman shot a double leg.
Except it’s not. Those lines we all swore were so true when we started watching MMA, the ones we cited as reasons for MMA’s inevitable (and rightful) ascent to greatness, are all bullshit. When a rerun of Mike and Molly draws more viewers than free fights, one has to question whether MMA will ever achieve the mainstream popularity fans and pundits have been anticipating for years now—unless an overweight Chicago police officer (no, not Mike Russow) and his wife are even more in our DNA than fighting.
(Dana White’s “If you don’t like it, we don’t want you as a fan” strategy has worked. / Photo via Getty)
UFC on FOX 11 was one of the better cards in recent memory, but nobody outside of the MMA bubble cared.
Only 1.98 million viewers tuned in—the lowest ever for a UFC event on Fox and a 27% decline from UFC on FOX 10. FOX lost out to every other major network in total viewers, and only beat CBS in the key 18-49 demo.
“Fighting is in our DNA,” Dana White likes to maintain. It’s a universal action that everyone understands. If a fight breaks out, everyone stops what they’re doing to watch it. Fighting is raw and visceral, but is simultaneously pure and sacrosanct. It has been part of humanity since the first caveman shot a double leg.
Except it’s not. Those lines we all swore were so true when we started watching MMA, the ones we cited as reasons for MMA’s inevitable (and rightful) ascent to greatness, are all bullshit. When a rerun of Mike and Molly draws more viewers than free fights, one has to question whether MMA will ever achieve the mainstream popularity fans and pundits have been anticipating for years now—unless an overweight Chicago police officer (no, not Mike Russow) and his wife are even more in our DNA than fighting.
When the biggest star on the UFC’s roster (who, by extension, is MMA’s biggest star) is only capable of drawing a maximum of 450,000 PPV buys, we have to admit that the sport is on a decline. Chuck Liddell—not Johny Hendricks, not Anthony Pettis, not any other nascent champion or young up-and-comer—is still the go-to “tough guy” spokesperson for brands running ads on Spike TV and FS1. That should tell you everything you need to know.
And it doesn’t matter that media members and hardcore fans enjoyed the fights last night. What we think means nothing; we’re the minority. The people that don’t know who Travis Browne and Fabricio Werdum are, and therefore didn’t watch UFC on FOX 11, are the people whose eyeballs and PPV buys matter most. Those are the people the sport is failing to reach, and hasn’t captivated in years. When Dana White himself admits that the UFC is not mainstream despite being on FOX, then you know it’s not mainstream…and maybe it never will be.
Most of you will scoff at what I’m saying. Whenever I write articles with such sentiments, the typical comment reads “Well you and CagePotato just hate MMA because you’re assholes and hate the UFC because they took away your credentials.” If I hated MMA/the UFC, I wouldn’t write about them (and I believe I speak for the entire CagePotato editorial staff when I say that). I love MMA. And loving something means wanting it to succeed, which means pointing out what’s wrong with it so it can be better. I’m not writing this to knock the UFC, nor am I writing this to be sensationalistic. I’m writing this so that we may temper our expectations. MMA is not mainstream, and it never will be if things continue their current course. Perhaps we should make peace with that instead of retreating into denial.
Whenever bad numbers come in, we all like to find excuses for why it did so poorly. MMA being a niche sport is never the answer. It’s the weather that’s to blame, or college football, or the economy, or anything other than the truth. When several events in a row report bad numbers, we call it a rough patch. But this is no rough patch, this is the shape of things to come. MMA needs stars to rekindle the world’s interest, but those at the top are only content to provide three letters—U, F, and C.
(MMA competition can provide the stability necessary for a person to beat addiction. It can also create the physical and emotional chaos that leads to drugs in the first place.)
For months I’ve wanted to get started on an article discussing drug use among MMA athletes, but just haven’t gotten my fingers to the keyboard. For some reason, after seeing Dennis Siver’s positive test for HCG recently — probably the least worrisome drug I’ve ever seen someone test positive for — I’ve decided to get going with it.
In addition to the positive tests for performance enhancing substances that we’ve seen dozens of times in this sport, there has been an alarming number of positive drug tests for recreational and prescription drugs as well. We’ve also seen countless fighters wage personal battles with substance abuse outside of the ring/cage, with several ending in death — accidental as well as suicide. It’s the recreational drugs and prescription painkillers that have caught my attention as something that may need to be addressed.
After seeing so many fighters struggle with drug abuse over the years like Joe Riggs, Drew Fickett, Karo Parisyan, along with those that have passed away from drug-related circumstances like Shane Del Rosario and Shelby Walker, I started to wonder: Is MMA leading athletes to become addicted to drugs, or are people who are more prone to drug use entering the world of mixed martial arts?
What I found out is that the answer to both previous questions is yes. Those more prone to use drugs do enter MMA, and MMA in return, leads those to use drugs and subsequently become addicted to them. It’s a hell of a lot more complex than that, but simply put, MMA fighters, as well as boxers, are kind of screwed.
(MMA competition can provide the stability necessary for a person to beat addiction. It can also create the physical and emotional chaos that leads to drugs in the first place.)
For months I’ve wanted to get started on an article discussing drug use among MMA athletes, but just haven’t gotten my fingers to the keyboard. For some reason, after seeing Dennis Siver’s positive test for HCG recently — probably the least worrisome drug I’ve ever seen someone test positive for — I’ve decided to get going with it.
In addition to the positive tests for performance enhancing substances that we’ve seen dozens of times in this sport, there has been an alarming number of positive drug tests for recreational and prescription drugs as well. We’ve also seen countless fighters wage personal battles with substance abuse outside of the ring/cage, with several ending in death — accidental as well as suicide. It’s the recreational drugs and prescription painkillers that have caught my attention as something that may need to be addressed.
After seeing so many fighters struggle with drug abuse over the years like Joe Riggs, Drew Fickett, Karo Parisyan, along with those that have passed away from drug-related circumstances like Shane Del Rosario and Shelby Walker, I started to wonder: Is MMA leading athletes to become addicted to drugs, or are people who are more prone to drug use entering the world of mixed martial arts?
What I found out is that the answer to both previous questions is yes. Those more prone to use drugs do enter MMA, and MMA in return, leads those to use drugs and subsequently become addicted to them. It’s a hell of a lot more complex than that, but simply put, MMA fighters, as well as boxers, are kind of screwed.
First, lets take a look at the “those prone to drug abuse enter MMA” concept. In a 2009 article for the Dana Foundation, Brenda Patoine wrote, “There is a well-established relationship between high sensation-seeking and drug use.” Virtually every expert on the subject agrees that there is a relationship between “thrill seeking” — whether that be sex, drugs, bungee jumping or trying new things — and drug abuse. It sure makes sense, doesn’t it? If you’re searching for adrenaline you go to a high spot, jump off of it, and pull a parachute. You land, are filled with endorphins, dopamine and serotonin and feel damn good. But, then you want that feeling again. So you go to the same elevated spot and repeat the process, but this time it’s not the same; it doesn’t feel quite as good. So, you find a higher spot or crazier landing strip or whatever you need to do to make the jump more exciting to replicate the same feeling of euphoria as before.
Sounds kind of like the beginnings of any drug addiction, huh? Well, that’s because it is. Not only just the process, but the chemicals as well. And considering that both drug-addiction and thrill-seeking behavior increase activity in the insular cortex, and both are highly dependent upon dopamine, it’s hard not to see the similarities. Since our brains are pushing us in the direction of thrill-seeking behavior, in the form of jumping into a cage and fighting another human behind a closed chain-linked fence, we are already predisposed to the types of behaviors that lead to drug abuse.
This is where the real fun begins.
Now that the thrill-seeking, predisposed, drug-addict is training and competing in MMA he or she sustains countless injuries, and is prescribed what? That’s right, painkillers — opiates. A substance that releases the same chemical in the brain as the thrill of fighting in front of others or jumping off of buildings, but this time, the person doesn’t even have to get up off of the couch. Pop the pill, the pain’s gone, and the same feeling of euphoria is there! Yay! Except, at some point addiction sets in, and then the person doesn’t even want to get high, he just wants to avoid the physical withdrawals of the drug — not fun at all. A few to test positive for opiates during post-fight drug tests include Bas Rutten, Karo Parysian, James Irvin, and Chris Leben. Those are just a few who have tested positive, and doesn’t include all of the assorted pills flying around the mouths of fighters while not in camp.
But maybe the fighter is lucky, and he avoids any serious injuries. He’ll be okay, right? If I were a magic 8-ball I’d say, “The odds are not in his favor.” The reason? The stresses of professional sports on an athlete are insane. There are the constant physical demands, but there are a ton of mental demands too. There’s the amazing high of victory (getting your hand raised in the cage after a long camp), and trying to recreate that feeling. Then, there’s the depression of losing, and trying to eliminate that feeling. In MMA, there are the anxieties of paying bills and having to pull out of fights due to injury, or maybe your opponent pulls out, or the show doesn’t pay you, or any number of things that lead you to pull your hair out, which is probably why so many fighters shave their heads.
In all seriousness, though, the demands of the spotlight projected on professional athletes are very hard to deal with, and not just in MMA, but in all sports. Olympic swimmer Amanda Beard’s swimming career was haunted by clinical depression, bulimia, and drug and alcohol abuse according to a 2012 article written for Bloomberg, which also mentions Australian Olympian Geoff Huegill‘s strugle with depression and substance abuse. All of those bouts of depression and anxiety, coupled with the availability of drugs, can lead one to a slippery slope — and that’s not even mentioning the involvement of steroids, which are known to cause depression when athletes cycle off of them. I’ve personally come into contact with many fighters that have claimed bouts of depression, and recently Bellator champion Pat Curran has come out publicly discussing his own bouts of depression.
And it continues. Yes, there is even another tie between fighters and drug use. Insane, right?
Most of the previous reasons for MMA athletes to fall victim to drug abuse can be applied to other sports, but this next point is very specific to combat sports athletes who receive repeated blows to the head as part of the job. Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) is real and it’s finally starting to get the recognition as a major downfall of professional sports, especially football and any form of pugilism.
CTE, as defined by the Sports Legacy Institute] is “a progressive degenerative disease of the brain found in athletes (and others) with a history of repetitive brain trauma. This trauma, which includes multiple concussions, triggers progressive degeneration of the brain tissue, including the build-up of an abnormal protein called tau. These changes in the brain can begin months, years, or even decades after the last concussion or end of active athletic involvement. The brain degeneration is associated with memory loss, confusion, impaired judgment, paranoia, impulse control problems, aggression, depression, and, eventually, progressive dementia.”
Many suffering from CTE aren’t even aware that CTE exists, let alone are aware that they may be suffering from it. Instead of seeking professional treatment, drugs and alcohol regularly are used to treat the symptoms, creating more problems, and, often times, leading to deeper addiction.
So, there you have it: MMA fighters are screwed. Though maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. If we demand that our athletes be drug free, we sure as hell need to guarantee that fighters are aware of the problems that may occur with substance abuse in their chosen sport. Coaches need to make sure fighters are able to distinguish between minor aches and pains, and real injuries. Coaches also need to be able to recognize a fighter who has been consuming too many substances, whether those happen to be painkillers, alcohol, recreational drugs, or steroids. Athletes need to be educated about the pitfalls and dangers of drug use, and be aware of what they are putting in their bodies in general. They also need to be cognizant of the strains the sport will place on a person, and that they aren’t supermen, regardless of how dominant they are in the cage; help is available to anyone, and we often need it. Doctors need to focus more on preventative medicine than prescription medicine, and be aware of the drug-seeking signs exhibited by the addicted. And, last, fans need to have a little compassion too. Fighters, and athletes in general, are people just like everyone else. We all have our problems.
It seems that there isn’t one single reason why fighters are prone to becoming addicted to alcohol and drugs, just as there isn’t one single reason anyone becomes addicted to anything, but a myriad of factors play a role — more-so for athletes, especially those that get punched in the face for a living.
13. Basically refusing to sign Cris Cyborg forever.
14. Lying about all the fighter’s credentials and accomplishments for UFC 1.
15. Lying about all the fighter’s credentials and accomplishments in the modern day.
16. Instant rematches when the wrong guy wins.
17. Interviewing Hulk Hogan and the Undertaker whenever they show up at events.
18. The fact that you can buy Arianny t-shirts on the UFC website.
19. Every single time when they brought a potential opponent into the cage to square off with someone who just won their fight (this is our favorite example).
20. Bringing back Tank Abbott in the early 2000′s.
