(Bagautinov’s doping wasn’t enough to earn him a victory — but that’s no reason to let him off the hook. / Photo via MMAJunkie)
Now that random drug testing is nailing MMA fighters on a regularbasis, the truth is inescapable: PEDs have become the sport’s most urgent and embarrassing problem. But not every fighter is an anti-drug crusader like Tim Kennedy and Georges St. Pierre. Before his star-making beatdown of Diego Brandao at UFC Fight Night 46 on Saturday, Conor McGregortold MMAJunkie how he really feels about performance-enhancing drugs:
“I don’t really care about that stupid s–t,” McGregor said. “I’m just doing my thing. I’m just performing and getting better. I don’t care what anyone else does….Take whatever you want, I’m still going to whoop your ass.”
“I don’t care if my opponents are cheating or not,” Johnson said. “I train my butt off to fight the man who is put in front of me whether he’s on steroids or not. I want to play on a level playing field, but if they knew about it beforehand and didn’t stop it, at the same time, I took care of business. No big deal.”
Except it is a big deal, and saying otherwise makes MMA look like a joke.
Look, I get it. Claiming that you don’t care if your opponents are doping scores you badass points, and it can endear you to the segment of the MMA fanbase that really doesn’t care about the ongoing scourge of PEDs. (“I like Conor because he doesn’t bitch about drug-testing like these other pussies. Let ’em take what they want!” — Darryl T. Justbleedguy)
(Bagautinov’s doping wasn’t enough to earn him a victory — but that’s no reason to let him off the hook. / Photo via MMAJunkie)
Now that random drug testing is nailing MMA fighters on a regularbasis, the truth is inescapable: PEDs have become the sport’s most urgent and embarrassing problem. But not every fighter is an anti-drug crusader like Tim Kennedy and Georges St. Pierre. Before his star-making beatdown of Diego Brandao at UFC Fight Night 46 on Saturday, Conor McGregortold MMAJunkie how he really feels about performance-enhancing drugs:
“I don’t really care about that stupid s–t,” McGregor said. “I’m just doing my thing. I’m just performing and getting better. I don’t care what anyone else does….Take whatever you want, I’m still going to whoop your ass.”
“I don’t care if my opponents are cheating or not,” Johnson said. “I train my butt off to fight the man who is put in front of me whether he’s on steroids or not. I want to play on a level playing field, but if they knew about it beforehand and didn’t stop it, at the same time, I took care of business. No big deal.”
Except it is a big deal, and saying otherwise makes MMA look like a joke.
Look, I get it. Claiming that you don’t care if your opponents are doping scores you badass points, and it can endear you to the segment of the MMA fanbase that really doesn’t care about the ongoing scourge of PEDs. (“I like Conor because he doesn’t bitch about drug-testing like these other pussies. Let ‘em take what they want!” — Darryl T. Justbleedguy)
But that “Do what thou wilt” stance towards cheating — especially when it’s expressed by champions and top contenders — is exactly the kind of thing that will keep mixed martial arts ghettoized as a small-time sideshow. At a time when MMA’s drug problem is reaching the ears of mainstream sports fans, we don’t need the UFC’s most public faces to play devil’s advocate and argue that doping is acceptable behavior.
To paraphrase the 24th Thesis: Do you half-wits realize that athletes of other sports do not behave this way? Is Yasiel Puig doing interviews claiming that A-Rod should be able to take as many steroids as he wants? Have you ever heard Peyton Manning say, “yeah, the Chargers can grab our face masks all game, we’re still gonna whoop ‘em on Sunday.” Of course not, because why in God’s name would a professional athlete support cheating? Why wouldn’t you care that your opponents are competing with an unfair advantage, if you’re trying to win?
By the estimates of every MMA fighter who has dared to speak out about it, at least half of MMA fighters use performance enhancing drugs. Some fighters, like Matt Serra and Krzysztof Soszynski, have stated that only a small percentage of professional fighters don’t do some form of illegal doping. (“I don’t give a [expletive] if it’s happening in baseball,” Serra said. “But when a guy can kick your head off, someone can get hurt. There’s a chance for serious bodily harm.”) But if you make a stink about it, you’re a troublemaker, and if you pretend that PEDs aren’t really a big deal, you’re a superhero. I mean, after all, it’s a fist fight, y’know? Chemicals don’t give you technique or heart, and those steroids aren’t gonna help you when I touch your chin. Ugh.
Random question: If Demetrious Johnson lost to Ali Bagautinov, would he feel the same way about PEDs — that doping is “no big deal”? And if he tried to defend Bagautinov’s EPO-usage after that loss, how ridiculous would he sound?
MMA fighters are a different breed — for better or worse — and the tough-guy culture of the sport leads generally-rational fighters to say some boneheaded shit. While I’m sure that many MMA fans would be fine with the sport returning to its barely regulated Golden Age (PRIDE NEVA DIE…OR TEST FOR STEROIDS!), anybody who wants to see this sport become universally respected as a legitimate enterprise should be publicly against cheating in all of its forms. Especially the athletes themselves, who this issue actually affects directly.
So we hereby drop the CagePotato Ban on MMA fighters saying they don’t care if their opponents are doping. Steroids and other performance enhancing drugs have become a potential sport-killer, and honestly, you’re not helping.
“It’s always darkest before it’s totally black.”-Mao Zedong (supposedly).
This quote aptly described MMA’s immediate future, or at least it seemed to until very recently. Card quality, fan interest, and–most importantly–numbers were all declining; 2014’s PPV buy ceiling of 350,000 was 2009’s floor. MMA was headed for a perplexing time when it was simultaneously bigger than ever but smaller than ever, when the fighters were more talented than ever but less popular than ever.
A series of fortunate events and new found circumstances can change all that. To make a Back to the Future reference, the horrific, Biff Tannen-owned Hill Valley that represented MMA’s future may well become the nice, stable Hill Valley in which George McFly is a successful fiction author and Marty McFly bangs his girlfriend in the back of a pickup truck. That is to say, MMA might be approaching a level of popularity, constancy and quality that many (including myself) didn’t think it was capable of reaching in the current climate.
“It’s always darkest before it’s totally black.”-Mao Zedong (supposedly).
This quote aptly described MMA’s immediate future, or at least it seemed to until very recently. Card quality, fan interest, and–most importantly–numbers were all declining; 2014′s PPV buy ceiling of 350,000 was 2009′s floor. MMA was headed for a perplexing time when it was simultaneously bigger than ever but smaller than ever, when the fighters were more talented than ever but less popular than ever.
A series of fortunate events and new found circumstances can change all that. To make a Back to the Future reference, the horrific, Biff Tannen-owned Hill Valley that represented MMA’s future may well become the nice, stable Hill Valley in which George McFly is a successful fiction author and Marty McFly bangs his girlfriend in the back of a pickup truck. That is to say, MMA might be approaching a level of popularity, constancy and quality that many (including myself) didn’t think it was capable of reaching in the current climate.
What’s the reason for this cautious optimism?
The initial catalyst, for me at least, is MMA’s reaction to Conor McGregor. Interest for UFC Fight Night 46 was so high you’d have thought it was headlined by Jon Jones vs. Alexander Gustafsson II rather than Conor McGregor vs. Diego Brandao. And this was on a Fight Pass card, mind you. That level of excitement for a Fight Pass card is extremely rare–as was the web traffic he brought in for a Fight Pass card. Fight Pass cards are so lackluster we refused to cover one. UFC Fight Night 46, however, garnered more traffic than even some Fox Sports 1 cards.
Conor McGregor stepping into the Octagon is an event. People need to see it. It’s no wonder then UFC Fight Night 46 was reportedly the most-watched Fight Pass event of all time. Conor McGregor has the makings of a superstar. He’s charismatic, a magnet for attention, he’s talented, and has a fan-friendly fighting style. Though McGregor is further proof stars have to be found and built up rather than manufactured by stamping “UFC” on them, McGregor is a light in the dark.
Rousey, too, is another reason the future seems bright. As I’ve noted in the past, the UFC women’s bantamweight division is little more than a promotional vehicle for Ronda Rousey. If you doubt this, look at Ronda Rousey’s fights in the UFC. Was the UFC sponsoring her or her opponent? The UFC does not dissemble its abject love of Rousey; Dana White admitted Rousey is the only reason the division exists.
As inflammatory and ridiculous as it sounded when White said it, Rousey might actually be the UFC’s biggest star. This (somewhat) justifies the UFC’s treatment of her. But watching even the greatest of fighters crush glorified jobbers in under a minute can get boring–boring enough that people won’t pay $60 to see it. Currently, the UFC women’s bantamweight division is such that Floyd Mayweather Jr. is the only person getting as much attention as Rousey. That’s changing now.
Rousey-Holm, Rousey-Carano, and Rousey-Justino are far more sell-able and will garner more interest than Rousey vs. any of the other overmatched contenders in the division.
The women’s MMA landscape as a whole is changing thanks to the UFC’s inclusion of the strawweight division via TUF 20. The UFC’s current strawweight roster possesses enough personalities (Rose Namajunas, Felice Herrig, etc.) to make the weight class interesting.
Then we come to UFC Fight Pass. We’ve panned the network on CagePotato multiple times, but Zuffa is finally starting to listen to our suggestions. To that end, they will now start showing Invicta fight cards. Deals with other MMA promotions might also be in the works. They also plan to to air events in judo, wrestling, and other martial arts. Fight Pass is changing for the better. What was once a cheap cash-grab is turning into a legitimate window into the mixed martial arts ecosystem.
And finally, Bellator. Bjorn Rebney is out. Scott Coker, a man with the proven capability to put on cards fans care about (and who’s not scummy and horrible), is in. With Scott Coker’s vision and Viacom’s financial backing, Bellator 2.0 (or Spikeforce, as we like to call it) can become serious competition to the UFC, which’ll force the UFC to step up its game and offer a better product. Look at UFC Fight Night 50. Is it a coincidence that it’s one of the more loaded Fight Night cards in recent memory? Did Zuffa just feel like throwing us a bone? Of course not. UFC Fight Night 50 is going head to head with Bellator 123 that night.
There are reasons for MMA fans to be hopeful. There is an emerging star on the horizon, the UFC’s biggest existing star has more credible, higher profile foes to dispatch, a new crop of feisty and fearsome women are entering the fold, Fight Pass is becoming something you wouldn’t be ashamed of subscribing to, and we’re fast approaching the spiritual resurrection of Strikeforce and the competitive nature in MMA it entails.
Are we approaching a Golden Age? Maybe not because the sport still has a few unsolved problems. But we’re certainly approaching an age in which things get better before they get worse. Be cautiously optimistic, MMA fans.
My father was an avid martial arts enthusiast. I remember treading into the basement where he had set up a heavy bag, a speed bag, and free weights. There was also a television, and on that television was usually boxing…but sometimes there’d be mixed martial arts—specifically the UFC.
I knew about the UFC throughout most of my childhood, and sometimes I’d even watch the cards with my father. However, I didn’t start getting deep into the TapouT-clad rabbit hole until high school. When I first got my driver’s license, my friends and I headed to the mall. Our objective: Pick up as many old-school UFC DVDs as we could find. We bought one of each they had in stock (I think our first haul was UFCs 1, 3, and 8).
We decided to watch in order. We popped the DVD in, and hit play.
“Hello, I’m Bill Wallace and welcome to McNichols are-*BELCH*”
We died laughing. But Wallace’s infamous burp in the first 15 seconds of the broadcast wasn’t the only bizarre and insane thing to happen during the first UFC event. By the end of UFC 1, I asked myself “What lunacy was going on behind the scenes?” because clearly, things were chaotic behind the curtain.
It’s been a decade since then, and in that decade I’ve read several books that elucidated the circumstances around the UFC’s birth—Clyde Gentry’s No Holds Barred and Jonathan Snowden’s Total MMA being chief among them. These books, while fantastic, don’t offer the same level of insight into the primordial UFC scene than Is This Legal: The Inside Story of The First UFC From the Man Who Created Itby UFC co-creator Art Davie.
My father was an avid martial arts enthusiast. I remember treading into the basement where he had set up a heavy bag, a speed bag, and free weights. There was also a television, and on that television was usually boxing…but sometimes there’d be mixed martial arts—specifically the UFC.
I knew about the UFC throughout most of my childhood, and sometimes I’d even watch the cards with my father. However, I didn’t start getting deep into the TapouT-clad rabbit hole until high school. When I first got my driver’s license, my friends and I headed to the mall. Our objective: Pick up as many old-school UFC DVDs as we could find. We bought one of each they had in stock (I think our first haul was UFCs 1, 3, and 8).
We decided to watch in order. We popped the DVD in, and hit play.
“Hello, I’m Bill Wallace and welcome to McNichols are-*BELCH*”
We died laughing. But Wallace’s infamous burp in the first 15 seconds of the broadcast wasn’t the only bizarre and insane thing to happen during the first UFC event. By the end of UFC 1, I asked myself “What lunacy was going on behind the scenes?” because clearly, things were chaotic behind the curtain.
It’s been a decade since then, and in that decade I’ve read several books that elucidated the circumstances around the UFC’s birth—Clyde Gentry’s No Holds Barred and Jonathan Snowden’s Total MMA being chief among them. These books, while fantastic, don’t offer the same level of insight into the primordial UFC scene than Is This Legal: The Inside Story of The First UFC From the Man Who Created Itby UFC co-creator Art Davie.
To be honest, I was worried when I first heard about Is This Legal. I anticipated it’d be 200 or so pages of self–congratulatory drivel from an ad-man seeking to squeeze as juice much out of the “I helped create the UFC” lemon that he possibly could. I became more relieved as I read each page.
In Is This Legal, Art Davie doesn’t seek to promote himself (though he has his moments), but just to tell the story about what happened leading up to the very first UFC show—and not just the weeks ahead of time. We’re talking the story of UFC 1 decades before Gerard Gordeau kicked out Teila Tuli’s tooth. It all started with Art Davie’s boxing training and a chance encounter with a wrestler who put Davie on his ass with a double-leg. From there, discussions in the barracks (Davie was a marine) about style vs. style and mixed rules fighting piqued Davie’s interest. The topic stayed with him throughout his career in advertising. He tried to pitch a UFC-like show to a client, who denied it. While he was doing research for the pitch, he stumbled upon the name Rorion Gracie.
I’d say the rest is history but that’s the point of the book—Davie unveils instances that are not part of mainstream MMA history because nobody knew them besides himself and a few others.
The relationship between Davie and Gracie is one of the book’s more interesting dynamics. Their relationship only becomes more fascinating as Davie offers insights into Gracie family politics and other dark family secrets.
And then, of course, there’s the intricacies and crazy stories behind the actual UFC 1 event itself. We won’t list them all here, but there are some crazy ones. Did you know Art Jimmerson forgot to bring his boxing gloves and shoes? Art Davie had to send someone out to a sporting goods store a few hours before the PPV started. There was also a masquerade ball the day after the event where (almost) all the fighters showed up. Furthermore, a full-on fighter revolt nearly took place the day before the event. Not only that, but the contract between Davie and Semaphore Entertainment Group (SEG) wasn’t made official until hours before the broadcast went live. Seriously, there’s some unbelievable stuff to read about in Is This Legal?
Aside from the humorous anecdotes, Is This Legal is most important because it’s a catalog of an era Zuffa would love for us to forget. Their version of UFC history doesn’t start until 2001. Davie’s book is a reminder that Zuffa didn’t invent MMA. It’s a reminder that the UFC’s original founders (or at least Davie) weren’t the bloodthirsty maniacs with a predilection towards mendacity Dana White and co. paint them out to be with their “OMG THERE WERE NO RULES AT ALL BEFORE WE BOUGHT THE UFC” bullshit. However, it’s worth noting that Davie did have a bit of a crazy streak. In the book, he admits that he wanted a fighting surface where the border was electrified to discourage timidity. He also wanted a cage surrounded by (fed) piranhas and (docile) sharks.
Davie teamed up with Bellator commentator Sean Wheelock to write the book. Their style is easily readable and funny.
One of my favorite excerpts from the book is where Davie is bashing Bill Wallace’s commentary. According to Davie, Wallace’s extreme conceitedness was equaled only by his ignorance about martial arts. In pre-fight meetings, Wallace scoffed at grappling and said grapplers wouldn’t be able to handle his kicks. Check it out:
I knew that there were some awkward moments and gaffes from my constant trips back to the production truck, but I had no idea as to what extent, until they played back some of the clips for me.
Wallace opened the PPV broadcast in a very matter-of-fact tone with the words “Hello ladies and gentlemen. You are about to see something that you have never seen before—The Ultimate Fighting Challenge. Hello, I’m Bill Wallace and welcome to McNichols Arena.”
At this point he belched into the microphone, which made “McNichols Arena” sound like “Mcniquoolz Oreeda.”
Wallace then continued with, “excuse me, McNichols Arena in fabulous Denver, Colorado. Along with me is Jim Brown, and I’d like to introduce you to what is called The Ultimate Fighting Challenge.”
In his opening lines, Wallace had sad the name of our event wrong—twice—and sounded like he almost threw up in his mouth live on air.
And that set the precedent for Wallace’s night.
He gave a wide array of pronunciations—all wrong—for Teila Tuli and Gerard Gordeau. He consistently mispronounced Jimmerson as “Jimm-AH-son,” and Rosier (correctly Roe-zher) as “Roe-ZEER.” Ignoring the Portuguese pronunciation of Royce, in which the R is said like the English H, as in “Hoyce,” he called him Royce with a hard R—like Rolles Royce. He also referred to him as “Roy.”
Wallace didn’t fare much better with the names of his on-air colleagues, calling Rod Machado “Machacho,” Brian Kilmeade “Kilmore,” and Rich Goins “Ron” and “Rod.” Not once in the entire broadcast did he correctly refer to him as Rich.
Our tournament bracket was “the chart,” the instant replay was “the rematch,” our fighting area was “the octagonal octagon,” and our location in Denver was mentioned numerous times as being “a mile high up in the air,” as though we were floating around in that cloud city from The Empire Strikes Back.
And over the course of the broadcast, Wallace had these gems as well:
“Sumo is very formal, because it’s a very national sport of Japan.”
“You have a Kenpo stylist against basically a kickboxer that uses the boxing techniques along with the kicking techniques of Taekwondo of kicking.”
“Pain hurts.”
“It kind of discomboberates you.”
“I’m an old person, if you want to wrestle, we can wrestle.”
“Most fights do (end up on the ground) because you’re in a bar room and that bar’s kind of slippery with all that, with all that beer on the ground and all that glass down there and everything.”
“The mouth is the dirtiest part of the human body. You wouldn’t think so but it is.”
“Now you’re going to think how maybe those kicking techniques can set up some grappling techniques, or maybe create the opening that you need for the, what you might call the kaboomer.”
“Most boxers when they enter the ring, they’re nice and wet already.”
And, “it’s kind of ironic that Royce Gracie’s going to wear his judo top.”
Of course, it was not a “judo top” and there was nothing ironic about Royce wearing it.
That was one of my personal favorite bits of the book. Seemingly benign, I know, but part of what I like about Is This Legal is that it reminds us about the little things that we all miss as well as the big things we never got a chance to see.
Is This Legal is one of MMA literature’s more important works. If you’re a fan of MMA, you need to buy this book. You will learn A TON about the true genesis of the UFC (not Zuffa’s ridiculous version of events) while being thoroughly entertained thanks to Davie’s matter-of-fact attitude about life and quick wit.
On July 5 UFC women’s bantamweight champion Ronda Rousey positively destroyed #2 ranked contender Alexis Davis. The fight, UFC 175’s co-main event, was Rousey’s fourth UFC title defense, and lasted just 16 seconds, making it the second shortest title fight in UFC history. The fight was so short that the UFC didn’t even make a highlight video available. If they had, it would have been the entire bout.
Leading into the contest, commentators Joe Rogan and Mike Goldberg tried to sell fans that Davis was going to be a tough test for Rousey. She wasn’t. Davis landed a total of two strikes during the fight, while Rousey landed 16. Most of Rousey’s strikes came after she kneed Davis to the body and threw her to the ground. Once on the mat, Rousey unloaded a series of punches to Davis’ head, and Yves Lavigne mercifully waved off a fight that had to leave some wondering why the matchup was booked in the first place.
At the post-fight media scrum, UFC president Dana White fielded the inevitable question: When will the UFC sign the one female fighter that many feel will give Rousey some true competition, Cris “Cyborg” Justino? Instead of dismissing the question with a tirade about managers, drugs, weight cutting and death — which is White’s usual play — he turned the question around to the media in attendance and asked if they wanted him to sign Justino to the UFC.
White found only one media member that was opposed to the organization signing the current Invicta FC featherweight champion.
After polling the media, White said he didn’t want to hear the media’s “bullshit” if he does sign Justino. “This shit is going to fucking flip as soon as I sign her, about drug testing and all the other bullshit. It will be the biggest fucking topic. It will be the biggest fucking story for you guys to write on whether she’s — oh my fucking God. The script will flip immediately.”
(A vision of a terrifying future? / Photo via FightNext)
On July 5 UFC women’s bantamweight champion Ronda Rousey positively destroyed #2 ranked contender Alexis Davis. The fight, UFC 175’s co-main event, was Rousey’s fourth UFC title defense, and lasted just 16 seconds, making it the second shortest title fight in UFC history. The fight was so short that the UFC didn’t even make a highlight video available. If they had, it would have been the entire bout.
Leading into the contest, commentators Joe Rogan and Mike Goldberg tried to sell fans that Davis was going to be a tough test for Rousey. She wasn’t. Davis landed a total of two strikes during the fight, while Rousey landed 16. Most of Rousey’s strikes came after she kneed Davis to the body and threw her to the ground. Once on the mat, Rousey unloaded a series of punches to Davis’ head, and Yves Lavigne mercifully waved off a fight that had to leave some wondering why the matchup was booked in the first place.
At the post-fight media scrum, UFC president Dana White fielded the inevitable question: When will the UFC sign the one female fighter that many feel will give Rousey some true competition, Cris “Cyborg” Justino? Instead of dismissing the question with a tirade about managers, drugs, weight cutting and death — which is White’s usual play — he turned the question around to the media in attendance and asked if they wanted him to sign Justino to the UFC.
White found only one media member that was opposed to the organization signing the current Invicta FC featherweight champion.
After polling the media, White said he didn’t want to hear the media’s “bullshit” if he does sign Justino. “This shit is going to fucking flip as soon as I sign her, about drug testing and all the other bullshit. It will be the biggest fucking topic. It will be the biggest fucking story for you guys to write on whether she’s — oh my fucking God. The script will flip immediately.”
During the conversation White heard Yahoo.com’s Kevin Iole opine that if Vitor Belfort gets to fight in the UFC, so should Justino.
Iole’s point addressed the fact that Belfort, who failed a 2006 drug test, and a 2014 (out of competition) drug test was mentioned as a potential opponent for UFC middleweight champion Chris Weidman following Weidman’s successful title defense against Lyoto Machida in UFC 175’s main event.
Iole made a valid point with his statement. White did as well, but probably not the one he wanted to make.
White does not get to pick and choose what the media that covers the sport of MMA, and specifically his organization, writes and talks about. Yes, he does a good job of controlling the message through bombast, insults, and myth-making, and he does have the ear of the fans, but so what? If White signs Justino to the UFC (and he should), he’s going to hear from MMA media about Justino’s less-than-pristine history with PEDs and drug testing — just like he’s going to hear about these uncomfortable topics whenever Belfort’s next fight is announced, especially if that Belfort fight is scheduled for anywhere except Las Vegas.
Throughout her career there has been a great deal of speculation about Justino’s use of steroids, and she did in fact fail a 2011 drug test, testing positive for stanozolol metabolites. Justino served a one-year suspension for that failed test. What often gets overlooked is that since that time, Justino passed a 2014 random drug test administered by the Nevada State Athletic Commission (NSAC).
Knowing that Justino has a recently passed random drug test in her back pocket, I’d be much more comfortable with the UFC signing her than I would be with the promotion handing Belfort a title fight directly after his own failed test.
If Justino is signed and booked to fight Rousey, that fight needs to take place in Las Vegas because the state of Nevada has recently shown that they are getting serious with their testing procedures, particularly through random testing. That fact was in evidence when they recently nabbed Chael Sonnen twice for prohibited substances, including human growth hormone (HGH) and recombinant human erythropoietin (EPO).
Justino should have to go through a stringent regime of in-competition and out-of-competition testing if the UFC does sign her, and that testing should be administered by an organization like the NSAC.
Nevada is also where the potential Weidman vs. Belfort contest needs to be booked. With the cloud that hangs over his head, Belfort and the UFC need to get fans to believe he is truly clean before he steps into the Octagon to fight for a title. That won’t happen if he fights in Brazil, or anywhere outside of Las Vegas.
Belfort is going to have to face the NSAC and talk about his failed test, and if they license him to fight in the state, he should have a pamphlet of stipulations that go along with that licensing. One of the biggest stipulations needs to be a robust random drug testing regiment — both in and out of competition.
UFC vice president of regulatory affairs Marc Ratner recently said that the UFC’s goal is to clean up the sport. White has a chance to take some steps toward making that a reality by booking Belfort in Las Vegas, and by signing Justino to a contract.
White does not get to choose what the MMA media writes about, but he does he get to choose who fights for the UFC and where they fight. By signing Justino and booking her to fight in Vegas, and having Belfort fight in Vegas, it will be a good first step toward removing some taint from the sport, and the UFC.
My suggestion? The UFC should sign Justino and book her against Rousey on the same fight card as Weidman vs. Belfort and use that event to highlight the progress that the NSAC and UFC are making toward cleaning up MMA.
We here at CagePotato.com aren’t the types to say “We told you so,” which is convenient, because we couldn’t even gather enough interest in BJ Penn vs. Frankie Edgar III to mock it beforehand. The fight ended predictably; Penn continued to be no match for Edgar, and “The Prodigy” hinted at yet another retirement from MMA after it was over. Given the trilogy’s one-sided nature and predictable ending, we’re tempted to call it the most pointless trilogy in our sport’s history. But doing so would do the following trilogies a grave injustice:
Bryan Robinson vs. Andrew Reinard
Third Fight: Tuesday Night Fights, 01/24/2002. Scoreboard: Robinson, 3-0.
A quick glance at the record of every ironman in MMA will reveal multiple victories over fighters who can best be described as “victims” and “warm bodies.” Reinard is Exhibit A: You can watch his entire three-fight career in only forty-eight seconds.
[Author Note: Robinson vs. Reinard is a stand-in for every pointless trilogy that other MMA ironmen have been involved in. Coincidentally, Robinson himself accounts for seven (?!?) of Travis Fulton’s career victories.]
(Okay, but can he beat a motivated, featherweight Penn? Photo Courtesy of Getty Images.)
We here at CagePotato.com aren’t the types to say “We told you so,” which is convenient, because we couldn’t even gather enough interest in BJ Penn vs. Frankie Edgar III to mock it beforehand. The fight ended predictably; Penn continued to be no match for Edgar, and “The Prodigy” hinted at yet another retirement from MMA after it was over. Given the trilogy’s one-sided nature and predictable ending, we’re tempted to call it the most pointless trilogy in our sport’s history. But doing so would do the following trilogies a grave injustice:
Bryan Robinson vs. Andrew Reinard
Third Fight: Tuesday Night Fights, 01/24/2002. Scoreboard: Robinson, 3-0.
A quick glance at the record of every ironman in MMA will reveal multiple victories over fighters who can best be described as “victims” and “warm bodies.” Reinard is Exhibit A: You can watch his entire three-fight career in only forty-eight seconds.
[Author Note: Robinson vs. Reinard is a stand-in for every pointless trilogy that other MMA ironmen have been involved in. Coincidentally, Robinson himself accounts for seven (?!?) of Travis Fulton’s career victories.]
Kazushi Sakuraba vs. Wanderlei Silva
Third Fight: Pride: Total Elimination 2003, 08/10/2003. Scoreboard: Silva, 3-0.
Move along. We don’t need to re-open this wound.
Jeremy Horn vs. Chael Sonnen
Third Fight: UFC 60: Hughes vs. Gracie, 05/27/2006. Scoreboard: Horn, 3-0.
Three fights. Two submissions. Zero interest. It’s hard to believe that the UFC once had such humble plans for Chael Sonnen.
Ken Shamrock vs. Tito Ortiz
Third Fight: UFC: The Final Chapter, 10/10/2006. Scoreboard: Ortiz, 3-0.
A trilogy that saw a slightly disinterested relic from a bygone era get mercilessly picked apart by a hungrier fighter in his prime. In other words, it was the Penn vs. Edgar of its era.
Olaf Alfonso vs. John Polakowski
Third Fight: WEC 24, 10/12/2006. Scoreboard: Polakowski, 2-1.
These two guys easily engaged in the most competitive, entertaining trilogy that made this list. If Polakowski didn’t waste the first three years of his career fighting Alfonso, he may be known to MMA fans for more than this.
Depending on how you view TUF exhibitions, Diaz vs. Maynard may simply be a “pointlessly marketed as a trilogy” rematch. That the UFC wanted us to view their fight at The TUF 18 Finale as a trilogy made it eligible for this list. The “TUF exhibition + Unwatchable ‘second’ fight” formula sealed its fate as an inclusion.
Did we omit an especially pointless grudge match? Are you dying to make the case for Sylvia vs. Arlovski, even though it was technically a quadrilogy? Leave your thoughts in the comments section, or hit us up at our official Twitter account.
Oversaturation. Lack of stars. Declining interest. Record-low numbers. An ephemeral casual fanbase. A hardcore fanbase that doesn’t care anymore. A resurgent competitor with a new, well-liked, adept president backed by a financial titan.
Those topics have all been under substantial discussion in the past few months–as they should be. Those are the very real, very pressing problems the UFC faces as we enter the second half of 2014.
But last night at UFC 175, the MMA world was able to forget all that–specifically because of the PPV’s main and co-main events.
The co-main event featured UFC women’s bantamweight champion Ronda Rousey taking on challenger Alexis Davis. As Rousey headed to the cage, I took to CagePotato’s Twitter and presciently stated Rousey-Davis would be the most one-sided fight we see all year. That’s exactly what it turned out to be. Rousey vs. Davis made Chad Mendes vs. Cody McKenzie seem well-booked and competitive.
I know what you’re saying, “Why is the UFC-sponsored cash cow Ronda Rousey winning a squash match something to get pumped up about?”
(Two of the best fighters on earth about to enter unarmed combat. / Photo via Getty)
Oversaturation. Lack of stars. Declining interest. Record-low numbers. An ephemeral casual fanbase. A hardcore fanbase that doesn’t care anymore. A resurgent competitor with a new, well-liked, adept president backed by a financial titan.
Those topics have all been under substantial discussion in the past few months–as they should be. Those are the very real, very pressing problems the UFC faces as we enter the second half of 2014.
But last night at UFC 175, the MMA world was able to forget all that–specifically because of the PPV’s main and co-main events.
The co-main event featured UFC women’s bantamweight champion Ronda Rousey taking on challenger Alexis Davis. As Rousey headed to the cage, I took to CagePotato’s Twitter and presciently stated Rousey-Davis would be the most one-sided fight we see all year. That’s exactly what it turned out to be. Rousey vs. Davis made Chad Mendes vs. Cody McKenzie seem well-booked and competitive.
I know what you’re saying, “Why is the UFC-sponsored cash cow Ronda Rousey winning a squash match something to get pumped up about?”
If you paid any attention to the NFL in the late 90s/early 2000s, you might remember “The Greatest Show on Turf.” That’s what everyone called the record-breaking offense for the St.Louis Rams. At the time, there was nothing like it. Watching their games, even the one-sided blowouts, was incredible because you had the sense that watching such artistry was a privilege. You didn’t care about the 48-3 score, you cared about witnessing the spectacle, the athleticism, and the talent.
If the St.Louis Rams were the Greatest Show on Turf, Ronda Rousey is the Greatest Show on Canvas (or the Greatest Show in a Cage or whatever gimmicky honorific you’d like to use). There is quite literally nothing in MMA like watching Ronda Rousey fight–the legendary scowl she sports while “Bad Reputation” blasts in the background, her in-cage dominance, her justifiably matter-of-fact air of superiority, and the deluge of discussions that pours over the MMA community after she wins a fight.
Ronda Rousey is…unique, gifted, special, or any other similar term you prefer to use. There is not a second Ronda Rousey in MMA right now in terms of the interest–whether due to adoration or loathing–she’s capable of generating. As long as the UFC has her, they have something the fans will care about, something that’ll make the promotion worth following.
There was more to UFC 175 than just Ronda Rousey.
UFC middleweight champ Chris Weidman defended his title against Lyoto Machida in the card’s main event. While Weidman dominated the first three rounds, the last two were ferociously contested. Machida almost pulled off a Gregor Clegane-level comeback as Weidman tired and opened himself up to numerous flurries. Just as it seemed Weidman might be running on empty, the Long Island native met Machida’s whirlwind of offense with his own.
The last two rounds of Weidman-Machida were everything an MMA competition should be–contested in several areas of fighting, dramatic, enjoyable, competitive, and fought between two highly skilled fighters who are among the elite of the elite. It’s this last bit that’s most important.
Any two fighters can throw their fists and dramatic have reversals of fortune. Too many fans are content with just that–random regional-level fighters closing their eyes, sticking their chins out, and throwing hooks from their waists–”banging.” While fans accept such a product because it’s branded “UFC,” it’s not something the UFC has a monopoly on. Any MMA promotion on the planet can offer that. However, top fighters like Chris Weidman and Lyoto Machida in a brutal struggle for the only title in the MMA world that matters is something unique to the UFC.
Bellator, even with Scott Coker and Viacom’s apparent renewed interest, can’t create a card like UFC 175–nor a spectacle like Ronda Rousey, nor a fantastic fight where the MMA world hangs in the balance like Weidman-Machida. None of the UFC’s competitors can.
UFC 175 was an example of what makes the UFC special, what makes it the “Super Bowl of MMA.” The UFC would do well to remember that, lest it continues lowering its own standard and falls into ruin.
