Long considered to be one of the more soft-spoken fighters in the UFC’s ranks, featherweight champion Jose Aldo has grown increasingly frustrated, not to mention vocal, about the state of fighter pay in recent months. Like Rick Grimes on The Walking Dead, Aldo has simply run out of fucks to give when it comes to airing his grievances about his longtime promotion.
We should be treated better. Not only by the UFC but also by media. We are well treated by the fans. We make a lot less money than we should. We deliver shows and should be well paid. We virtually pay to fight. To become a boxer is complicated but would be very good.
To run this quote through the Michael Bisping translator: Jose Aldo is just a disgruntled, lazy washout whose career didn’t pan out the way he hoped.
(Photo via Getty.)
Long considered to be one of the more soft-spoken fighters in the UFC’s ranks, featherweight champion Jose Aldo has grown increasingly frustrated, not to mention vocal, about the state of fighter pay in recent months. Like Rick Grimes on The Walking Dead, Aldo has simply run out of fucks to give when it comes to airing his grievances about his longtime promotion.
We should be treated better. Not only by the UFC but also by media. We are well treated by the fans. We make a lot less money than we should. We deliver shows and should be well paid. We virtually pay to fight. To become a boxer is complicated but would be very good.
To run this quote through the Michael Bisping translator: Jose Aldo is just a disgruntled, lazy washout whose career didn’t pan out the way he hoped.
While the sentiment of fighter mistreatment is growing louder by the day, it is interesting to see someone of Aldo’s caliber more or less leading the charge. Aldo makes around a 120k/120k split per fight, with PPV incentives on top (we’re assuming), which isn’t exactly terrible for a guy who never owned a suit before fighting in the UFC. Then again, a boxer of Aldo’s level would likely clear around ten times that per fight (in a “dying sport” no less), so it’s easy to see why the grass might be looking greener and greener to Aldo on the other side.
For more perspective on just how horrific the pay grade for lower-level fighters is, I would highly recommend that you listen to John Cholish’s appearance on The MMA Hourfollowing his retirement last year. Suffice it to say, Aldo’s statement isn’t hyperbolic in the least, even if he is not referring to his own situation. That supposed fans of the sport are still taking the UFC’s side in this matter continues to boggle my mind (just read the comments section of any fighter pay article for proof of this), but that’s just the beauty of ignorance, isn’t it?
But consider this: The sheer fact that McKenzie made it to the UFC and then earned three victories inside the Octagon means that his MMA career was far more successful than the vast majority of fighters who try their hands at this sport. It’s weird to put it in those terms, but Cody McKenzie was an elite fighter, relatively speaking.
McKenzie officially announced his retirement from MMA yesterday with the following tweet…
Then, he sat down for a long, must-read interview with BleacherReport’s Hunter Homistek, in which he described what a miserable, impoverished existence it was to compete in the UFC as a non-star. His words echo those of numerous “low-level” fighters who often lost money trying to compete in the UFC and were treated like average regional-card shmucks forced to scramble for food and lodging. We’ve compiled all the best bits below…
(Fightin’ Guy Fawkes McKenzie was the best McKenzie. / Photo via Getty)
But consider this: The sheer fact that McKenzie made it to the UFC and then earned three victories inside the Octagon means that his MMA career was far more successful than the vast majority of fighters who try their hands at this sport. It’s weird to put it in those terms, but Cody McKenzie was an elite fighter, relatively speaking.
McKenzie officially announced his retirement from MMA yesterday with the following tweet…
Then, he sat down for a long, must-read interview with BleacherReport’s Hunter Homistek, in which he described what a miserable, impoverished existence it was to compete in the UFC as a non-star. His words echo those of numerous “low-level” fighters who often lost money trying to compete in the UFC and were treated like average regional-card shmucks forced to scramble for food and lodging. We’ve compiled all the best bits below…
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“I’d compete if the money was there. I got into it not for the money, but at the same time, you hit a certain age and you have to grow up. I want a real house and property and all that, like everybody else. And you can’t have that in the fight world unless you’re a top-10 guy…
All the years I fought for them, I averaged $50,000 a year, and they never paid for medicals, they wouldn’t help out with bringing out cornermen and s–t.
They’d bring out one cornerman, but when you have a whole team that needs to go, at the end of the year, you pretty much made about $10,000 fighting for the UFC after paying for medicals and paying for everything and factoring in the expenses of training and all that s–t. You don’t make s–t, and it’s f—–g b——t. I’m over it…
When I fought in New Jersey, it cost me $4,000 in medicals just to get to the damn fight, and the UFC doesn’t pay for a penny of that. They don’t help out with any medicals, they don’t give a s–t. They’re just a big corporation selling merchandise…
The UFC is the pinnacle of the sport, and unless you’re kissing their ass and f—–g s—–g (UFC President) Dana’s (White’s) d–k, you’re not making any money. I see these chumps in the UFC with 4-5 records or 3-0 records, and I’m like, “Who the f–k are these people?”…
My first three fights with the UFC, they expected me to fight for free while locked in a s—y-ass house. The UFC is a joke to me. They’re a multibillion-dollar company, and you have to sign a three-year contract to get one fight with them? What? What kind of s–t is that?
I paid 40 percent of my purse in New Jersey to fight Leonard Garcia. I paid 40 percent of my purse before I even got to it. Forty percent. And that’s before paying for coaches, paying for everything else, you know?
So there’s just no money in the sport, and I’m to the point in life where I want to grow up, and this is some kid s–t it almost seems like unless you’re a top-tier guy, which I wasn’t born with that athletic ability…
Fighting is becoming a rich kids’ sport. That’s the bottom line. It’s becoming a rich kids’ sport. When I got into it, I could fight and not have to pay $4,000 in medicals. Now, just to do a fight in North America, I have to pay hella money in medicals. It’s a f—–g joke.
They try to watch every little thing we do, and the bottom line is that it’s for rich kids now. If you have the money to pay for all the supplements and all the s–t to make you bigger, faster, stronger, then you’re going to do good. But if you’re just a martial artist anymore, you’re done…
When I went into The Ultimate Fighter house, I was like $23,000 in debt. I remember in The Ultimate Fighter they had that coaches’ challenge where they were giving the two rich coaches $10,000 to hit some baseballs, and they were paying all the fighters $1,500.
And most of the fighters were stoked on it! They’re like, “Oh my god! We’re going to win $1,500!”I’m like, you guys are scrubs! I come from Alaska, where $1,500 doesn’t get you through a week. It’s all about where you’re from.
I’ve always made good money in Alaska and my career. I commercial fish, but I’m to the point where I gotta go get a job and start building a real life…
All these girls coming into the UFC and s–t with no records, and even the guys. I watched two 3-0 guys fight each other on TV the other day. I’m like, “Why the f–k am I watching two 3-0 guys fighting in the UFC? They’re f—–g 3-0. That’s not even a record.”
Or this CM Punk guy. It’s all politics, and I’m just sick of it. I know I can fight. I’ll beat CM Punk’s f—–g ass, but nobody cares because he’s famous and rich, and that’s what people want to see, this guy.
And I don’t have anything against him personally, but it’s just the politics of it…
Yeah, I heard that guy talking. He’s a f—–g joke. He’s like six months out and he’s like, “I’m really nervous.” I’m like, come on, you p—y. You’re nervous and you’re six months out? I don’t get nervous until they close that cage door. That’s when I get nervous. You better shake that nerves s–t off or you’re going to freeze in there, you big f—–g girl.
I don’t even know why that guy’s doing it. I kind of do, like a lot of guys try to do it, but he’ll do it once and quit. It’s not a fun thing, fighting people. People think it’s so great, but they’ve never done it. Those people have never f—–g done it. Fighting’s not fun, you know?
The training is fun. The martial arts, learning the martial arts is fun. But when it comes fight night, nobody has fun with the fight. No, it’s nerve-wracking as f–k. You’re getting your f—–g head punched in and your body kicked to s–t. It’s not fun.
But the UFC’s a joke to me, anymore. This WMMA (women’s MMA), I watched some girl fight the other day. She was 4-5, she had a losing record, but she was ranked No. 13 in the world. I was like, “Oh my god, are you kidding me?” I won like 28 in a row, amateur and pro, before I even got a chance, then they made me fight for free in the TUF house, you know?
A bunch of dumb fans are like, “Those aren’t real fights.” Oh, they’re not? They felt like real fights…
Like I said, $50,000 a year is what I averaged [in the UFC], and that’s before expenses. After expenses, I’m averaging about $10,000 a year. That’s s–t money when you’re traveling, you’re on the road, you have to eat out.
I remember when they put me up at the MGM to fight Chad Mendes, I was broke as a joke. I had to jog six miles off the strip just to find a cheap place to eat. I couldn’t eat anywhere on the strip because I didn’t have any f—–g money, and I’m fighting the No. 2-ranked guy in the world. It’s a f—–g joke…
I remember I asked for a hotel room once because I brought my full team. That was the last time I ever brought a full team with me. They always wanted three people in my corner to look professional, you know?
So I finally brought a full team to one of my fights, and one of my cornermen was snoring and sleepwalking and s–t and keeping me up all night, so I asked the UFC for another room. It was like $500 for a room at this place we were staying. I couldn’t afford another room. But they wouldn’t get me another room.
They said, “No. Look, we can’t get you another hotel room.” I’m like, “I’m not getting any f—–g sleep.” It’s like, thanks a lot, d–k heads. You guys are a multibillion-dollar corporation, and you can’t afford another hotel room when you’re already renting the whole hotel out probably?
I got story after story like that. I always felt I was mistreated in the UFC. They take care of certain guys, and they take care of their guys who will kiss their ass and b–w them, but that’s not me. …I never respected Dana White, and I still don’t. I think he’s a greedy a—–e, and I’m glad they’re getting sued…
At this point, I don’t even care. I’m out of the UFC, and I’m not going to see a penny of it. At the end of the day, I’m sure if a bunch of lawyers sue the UFC, it’s going to be a lot of lawyers who get richer and not a bunch of fighters, you know?
Fighters never come up in my opinion. There will be one or two of them, maybe, and that inspires the rest of them, but at the end of the day, fighters don’t come up. And I hate to be a Debbie Downer, but that’s just how it is.
I haven’t seen many fighters get rich, and I’ve been in the game for a very long time. Most of them just struggle, and they all say the same thing, they all do it because they love it. They do it for the passion of the sport. It’s too bad to me when there is millions and billions of dollars floating around. It’s ridiculous how much money is flowing in, but it’s not going to the right people…
I know plenty of fighters who are way better than the guys in [the UFC], but they’re ugly, you know? The bottom line is the UFC is about beauty. If you look good and if you’re a pretty boy or a pretty girl, you’re going to make a lot more. It’s show business. It’s not the fight game. It’s show business…
I respect all the fighters tremendously, even the ones who suck, even the ones who are fighting on national television with s–t records. I still respect them more than the people running the shows who are ripping the fighters off, you know? The athletes, I respect every fighter, no matter what I say about fighters. I even respect this CM Punk who’s never had to go to the very top. I respect him for wanting to do it, for stepping up and fighting somebody. I think he’s a putz for going to the No. 1 organization without even doing any work to get there, but at the end of the day, I still respect him for wanting to try a fight.
I look back and I’ll always appreciate all the athletes who helped me out, like the Diaz brothers and people like that. They’d let me come stay at their houses and learn good martial arts. I was just some Opie from the country, and they’d let me stay with them and learn good s–t. I respect all those guys. At the end of the day, I had a lot of good times, but I’m done chasing this f—–g dream. I’m to the point where it’s not worth it to get knocked out for pennies.“
While the sketchy stipulations surrounding his departure from the sport have been well documented, there’s no denying that he has made some thoughtful, not to mention passionate points about issues like fighter pay and treatment in the time since. You might say he’s a phoenix of sorts, rising from the possibly enhanced ashes of his former self to become the symbol of a movement that MMA is in dire need of.
Take his latest video, for instance, wherein he continues his crusade for better fighter pay by breaking down the much talked about Reebok deal. Although Wandy seems cautiously optimistic that the deal might very well be a sign that the UFC is finally starting to heed his cries, he also is aware how badly the deal will screw over up and coming fighters without any real name recognition. To help combat this, Silva has offered to sponsor said screwed-over fighters via his social media:
What can a young fighter offer to his sponsors, if not the space on their shorts? To help, I am giving space on all my social media, which reaches millions of people. Show your sponsors and I will post it to my friends. That way you can offer a lot more exposure to your sponsors and even get new ones. And I want to ask the other fighters, our icons in the sport. It’s the minimum we can do and for me it’s a pleasure to help the next generation. I know what a fighter goes through until he can make a name for himself.
While the sketchy stipulations surrounding his departure from the sport have been well documented, there’s no denying that he has made some thoughtful, not to mention passionate points about issues like fighter pay and treatment in the time since. You might say he’s a phoenix of sorts, rising from the possibly enhanced ashes of his former self to become the symbol of a movement that MMA is in dire need of.
Take his latest video, for instance, wherein he continues his crusade for better fighter pay by breaking down the much talked about Reebok deal. Although Wandy seems cautiously optimistic that the deal might very well be a sign that the UFC is finally starting to heed his cries, he also is aware how badly the deal will screw over up and coming fighters without any real name recognition. To help combat this, Silva has offered to sponsor said screwed-over fighters via his social media:
What can a young fighter offer to his sponsors, if not the space on their shorts? To help, I am giving space on all my social media, which reaches millions of people. Show your sponsors and I will post it to my friends. That way you can offer a lot more exposure to your sponsors and even get new ones. And I want to ask the other fighters, our icons in the sport. It’s the minimum we can do and for me it’s a pleasure to help the next generation. I know what a fighter goes through until he can make a name for himself.
Additionally, Wanderlei called for other top fighters and “icons in the sport” to offer the same kindness to younger fighters, stating “it’s the minimum we can do.”
As we’ve already discussed, the terms of the Reebok deal — where fighters in the top 15 of each class receive compensation according to where they are ranked by so-called “expert panelists” — seem to be grounded in a conflict of interest that is wide open for corruption. While we’ll have to wait and see the actual dollars and cents before we pass a total judgement, it’s nothing short of inspiring to see Wanderlei take such a hands-on approach to ensuring that the little guy is looked out for. He’s quite literally putting his money where his mouth is, which is more than we’ve been able to say about “The Axe Murderer” in some time.
Think about this for a second: Less than six months ago, Wanderlei Silva was a drug test-dodging social pariah who was treated like an outcast in his own country. The good will he had built as a legend of the sport had been eroded, and he seemed all but destined to toil away in the solitude of a dimly lit basement, screaming into a camera with bro-metal blasting triumphantly in the background. Now, he’s the voice of the frikin’ voiceless.
Silva begins by explaining that fighters’ love of the sport can blind them to people taking advantage of them, but when promotions — and he’s really only talking about the UFC, here — are worth billions and fighters need to beg for money, something is very wrong. “What would happen if the events shared, in a more dignifying manner, their profits with the athletes?” Silva asks. “The athletes are already out there giving their blood, imagine if they got paid better.”
While the video doesn’t reach “screaming in a basement with heavy metal blasting” levels of intensity, Silva does get rather fired up talking about the responsibility of promoters to take care of their fighters. He seems especially pissed about fighters having to travel in economy class with only one trainer’s flight being covered, and the UFC’s time-honored practice of burying its own fighters. But, “things will change once they start to feel it in the only place that matters to them. Which is not in their heart because they don’t have one. It’s in their pockets.” SHOTS FIRED.
Silva begins by explaining that fighters’ love of the sport can blind them to people taking advantage of them, but when promotions — and he’s really only talking about the UFC, here — are worth billions and fighters need to beg for money, something is very wrong. “What would happen if the events shared, in a more dignifying manner, their profits with the athletes?” Silva asks. “The athletes are already out there giving their blood, imagine if they got paid better.”
While the video doesn’t reach “screaming in a basement with heavy metal blasting” levels of intensity, Silva does get rather fired up talking about the responsibility of promoters to take care of their fighters. He seems especially pissed about fighters having to travel in economy class with only one trainer’s flight being covered, and the UFC’s time-honored practice of burying its own fighters. But, “things will change once they start to feel it in the only place that matters to them. Which is not in their heart because they don’t have one. It’s in their pockets.” SHOTS FIRED.
Other notable quotes include…
– “You don’t put your face in there to get punched, so there is nothing for you to say. You can’t speak of the gladiators, you can’t speak of the warriors. Only who is a warrior can speak of warriors. Only who gives blood can speak of blood. You guys are playboys, you can’t say anything. You can not call us names when you’ve never been punched in the face.”
– “This monopoly doesn’t allow for a free market. We have to free the fighters! So that they can fight wherever they want. Not to be tied down to only one event…We have to open a competitive market! Where who pays better has the better show.”
– “Once there is a competitive market, I want to see if they will still call us names.”
– “I have always been tied down by oppressive contracts so I can’t take advantage of the changes that I’m trying to cultivate for the next generation. But I am standing up for the sport, for a cause, for fighters to have a better life! Because if we don’t stand up for ourselves, who will?”
– “Now you have a guy with the guts to say the truth because I am not afraid of anyone. I never was and I won’t start now.”
– “No more of the suits and ties in the business class when us warriors are in the back in economy class with only one coach.”
– “I am not against anyone, I am in favor of our class! And our class will have better life conditions, whatever it takes.”
Wanderlei stopped short of claiming that the workers should control the means of production, but that’s basically where all of this is headed. Revolution is in the air, comrades.
After almost every UFC event, the UFC will hold a post-fight press conference. One of the first things mentioned at these get-togethers are the winners of the Fight Night Bonuses. These $50,000 pay-bumps are (usually) handed out to four fighters per event: Two combatants take home Performance of the Night awards, and the individuals that were deemed to have the best fight on the card take home Fight of the Night.
Performance bonuses are a nice little perk that the UFC hands out. However, much like that fuzzy block of cheese in the back of the refrigerator, they may have reached their expiration date.
On a recent edition of the Co-Main Event Podcast, host Chad Dundas suggested that the UFC do away with Fight Night bonuses, and instead use those funds to provide a monthly stipend to every fighter on the UFC roster. Not only is this a good idea, it’s the right thing to do, and it’s the right time for the UFC to do it.
The last time a proposal such as this was floated, it was UFC president Dana White that offered up the suggestion. Ignoring the fact that the majority of the 500 plus fighters on the UFC roster are underpaid as professional athletes, White puffed out his chest, and focused on “the lower level guys,” telling the Las Vegas Sun, “(Expletive) yeah, it could happen (doing away with Fight Night bonuses). That’s what I’m thinking about doing. All the (expletive) lower-level guys think they need their money boosted. Everyone thinks it’s not enough money, so that’s easy to do.”
It was not surprising that many UFC fighters balked at the idea as presented by the bombastic UFC chieftain, and White gladly returned to the status quo.
It was a predictable outcome because it pitted UFC newcomers against long tenured and established fighters. White used a basic dirty management style when he floated the idea, pitting the two factions against each other. Since the UFC veterans outnumber the promotional newbies it was a foregone conclusion that the idea would fail to gain traction.
(Would veteran bonus-grabbers like Joe Lauzon [right] give up their extra cash to help the little guy? / Photo via Getty)
After almost every UFC event, the UFC will hold a post-fight press conference. One of the first things mentioned at these get-togethers are the winners of the Fight Night Bonuses. These $50,000 pay-bumps are (usually) handed out to four fighters per event: Two combatants take home Performance of the Night awards, and the individuals that were deemed to have the best fight on the card take home Fight of the Night.
Performance bonuses are a nice little perk that the UFC hands out. However, much like that fuzzy block of cheese in the back of the refrigerator, they may have reached their expiration date.
On a recent edition of the Co-Main Event Podcast, host Chad Dundas suggested that the UFC do away with Fight Night bonuses, and instead use those funds to provide a monthly stipend to every fighter on the UFC roster. Not only is this a good idea, it’s the right thing to do, and it’s the right time for the UFC to do it.
The last time a proposal such as this was floated, it was UFC president Dana White that offered up the suggestion. Ignoring the fact that the majority of the 500 plus fighters on the UFC roster are underpaid as professional athletes, White puffed out his chest, and focused on “the lower level guys,” telling the Las Vegas Sun, “(Expletive) yeah, it could happen (doing away with Fight Night bonuses). That’s what I’m thinking about doing. All the (expletive) lower-level guys think they need their money boosted. Everyone thinks it’s not enough money, so that’s easy to do.”
It was not surprising that many UFC fighters balked at the idea as presented by the bombastic UFC chieftain, and White gladly returned to the status quo.
It was a predictable outcome because it pitted UFC newcomers against long tenured and established fighters. White used a basic dirty management style when he floated the idea, pitting the two factions against each other. Since the UFC veterans outnumber the promotional newbies it was a foregone conclusion that the idea would fail to gain traction.
Dundas’s idea, unlike White’s, shares the wealth across the entire roster, a much easier sell.
Doing the math on the 47 fight cards the UFC scheduled for 2014, the Fight Night bonus budget is a healthy $9.4 million. If you divide that equally across the approximately 500 fighters on the UFC roster, that equals almost $19,000 per fighter over the course of a year. The salary is the equivalent of a $9 an hour full-time job. Not great, but it’s better than nothing, and it would be guaranteed income as long as the fighter remained an active part of the UFC roster.
If you make that a weekly, bi-weekly, or even monthly paycheck, it becomes even more attractive for the fighters. That stipend would help cover some of the expenses a full time professional mixed martial artist incurs.
If you think those expenses are insubstantial, I point you to the comments of John Cholish and Tim Kennedy, who both broke down the huge costs associated with being a professional fighter. For Cholish, a fight night purse of $8,000 amounted to an estimated loss of $6,000 for the fight he broke down. Meanwhile, Kennedy revealed that approximately 59 percent of his pre-tax fight earnings are earmarked for somewhere other than his bank account. A monthly stipend, generated by the Fight Night bonuses that benefit a lucky and arbitrarily chosen few, would clearly benefit each and every fighter on the UFC roster.
As an added bonus of this stipend, fighters would not be forced to accept the crumbs offered by some sponsors. In fact, if fighters weren’t so desperate for any amount of sponsorship money they could be pickier about the sponsors they represent, and the cost of sponsorship may actually rise over time.
The much discussed, but never publically disclosed locker room bonuses would remain in effect in this scenario. Well, that is to say it would remain in effect barring any vindictive moves from the UFC.
There’s no doubt that some fighters will still balk at this idea; Joe Lauzon and Donald Cerrone immediately come to mind. However, the fact is that sometimes the individual has to take a small hit to serve the greater good. It may be a tough pill to swallow for some, but it’s a pill that will serve the sport and those who are trying to make living inside the Octagon in the present, as well as the future.
(Roman Salazar is a cable guy, but in his spare time he’s a main card fighter for the most powerful MMA promotion in the world. Isn’t the sport supposed to have evolved past this point by now? / Photo via Getty)
I know this is as close to a mortal sin as you can get in the eyes of UFC president Dana White, but hey, he seems okay with putting his fighter’s business in the street, so I figure the door is open to talk about the subject.
White recently saw one of his most popular fighters, Wanderlei Silva, release a video that put the UFC on blast for the way it treats fighters and compensates them. During the video, Silva said, “They (UFC) always hold on to the money so they underpay the athletes.” He also added, “If you’re not going to give the fighters money the minimum you can give him is respect. They use us to make rivers of money, because this event is making money. They don’t give anything to the athletes, only crumbs. They don’t respect us as athletes, they don’t respect us at all. They try to turn the public against us.”
Shortly after the Silva video surfaced, White did exactly what Silva accused him of, attempting to turn public perception against the fighter by portraying him as a spoiled millionaire that had no business complaining about the money he made during his employ with the UFC. The UFC president told Globo, “You know how much money Wanderlei Silva has made since he’s been with the UFC? $9.7 million So Silva says everybody’s getting rich except the fighters. What does Wanderlei considers rich? $9.7 million isn’t rich? A lot of people would consider that rich. Let me [tell] you what: Wanderlei Silva has fought six times in the last five years. He’s fought six times in five years. If being overworked is fighting one time a year, I don’t know what to tell you.”
I’m not going to lie, $9.7 million is a lot of money relative to what most MMA fighters earn, and Silva will still take home a healthy chunk of change after paying taxes, management and gym fees, food and (ahem) supplements from that $9.7 million. However, coming from the guy that travels around the world in a private jet and brags about taking casinos for $5,000,000 on a given night, White’s argument over riches is almost comical, especially when those riches are quite literally gained off the blood and sweat of fighters like Silva.
The other thing that I find bothersome about White’s claim that Silva pulled in $9.7 million is that there is zero proof that the number is real. The UFC, a privately owned company, is not required to provide full compensation numbers for its fighters, and it famously does not release those numbers. The only proof we have that Silva earned $9.7 million is the word of a man whose job description is fight promoter, an occupation that has always had a rather loose relationship with the truth.
(Roman Salazar is a cable guy, but in his spare time he’s a main card fighter for the most powerful MMA promotion in the world. Isn’t the sport supposed to have evolved past this point by now? / Photo via Getty)
I know this is as close to a mortal sin as you can get in the eyes of UFC president Dana White, but hey, he seems okay with putting his fighter’s business in the street, so I figure the door is open to talk about the subject.
White recently saw one of his most popular fighters, Wanderlei Silva, release a video that put the UFC on blast for the way it treats fighters and compensates them. During the video, Silva said, “They (UFC) always hold on to the money so they underpay the athletes.” He also added, “If you’re not going to give the fighters money the minimum you can give him is respect. They use us to make rivers of money, because this event is making money. They don’t give anything to the athletes, only crumbs. They don’t respect us as athletes, they don’t respect us at all. They try to turn the public against us.”
Shortly after the Silva video surfaced, White did exactly what Silva accused him of, attempting to turn public perception against the fighter by portraying him as a spoiled millionaire that had no business complaining about the money he made during his employ with the UFC. The UFC president told Globo, “You know how much money Wanderlei Silva has made since he’s been with the UFC? $9.7 million So Silva says everybody’s getting rich except the fighters. What does Wanderlei considers rich? $9.7 million isn’t rich? A lot of people would consider that rich. Let me [tell] you what: Wanderlei Silva has fought six times in the last five years. He’s fought six times in five years. If being overworked is fighting one time a year, I don’t know what to tell you.”
I’m not going to lie, $9.7 million is a lot of money relative to what most MMA fighters earn, and Silva will still take home a healthy chunk of change after paying taxes, management and gym fees, food and (ahem) supplements from that $9.7 million. However, coming from the guy that travels around the world in a private jet and brags about taking casinos for $5,000,000 on a given night, White’s argument over riches is almost comical, especially when those riches are quite literally gained off the blood and sweat of fighters like Silva.
The other thing that I find bothersome about White’s claim that Silva pulled in $9.7 million is that there is zero proof that the number is real. The UFC, a privately owned company, is not required to provide full compensation numbers for its fighters, and it famously does not release those numbers. The only proof we have that Silva earned $9.7 million is the word of a man whose job description is fight promoter, an occupation that has always had a rather loose relationship with the truth.
This isn’t the first time White has gone down this road. When former UFC light heavyweight champion Quinton “Rampage” Jackson was on the outs with the promotion, White proclaimed that Jackson made $15.2 million during his UFC run. As with Silva’s $9.7 million, that number was entirely unverified.
On the flipside of White’s talk of how the UFC handed out millions to these crybabies that are complaining about pay, there are fighters like Nina Ansaroff and Roman Salazar.
Salazar made his UFC debut on Saturday night, fighting Mitch Gagnon on the main card of the UFC Fight Night card from Halifax. If you watched the event, you heard the UFC commentators comment multiple times how Salazar, in addition to being a professional mixed martial artist on the UFC’s payroll, is also a cable guy. A cable guy with a family that works that day job six days a week while also competing on the biggest stage in the sport he pursues.
You know what you never hear from other professional sports these days? How an athlete competing in the NFL, NBA, NHL or MLB has to work a job prior to practice in order to make ends meet. Sadly, it’s an all too common occurrence for the UFC and other major MMA promotions.
As for Ansaroff, she is set to make her UFC debut on November 8th, facing Juliana Lima on a Fight Night card in Brazil. Well, maybe she is set to make her UFC debut on that date. You see, Ansaroff seems to be a little short of cash in the weeks leading up to the fight. And how do we know that? Well, she’s taken to Go Fund Me to attempt to raise $5,000 to pay for her medicals, as well as get a plane ticket for her cornerman for the Brazil based event.
That’s another bad look for the promotion that is quick to tell you that their sport is bigger than the NFL or soccer. You don’t see NFL players on crowdfunding sites trying to raise money to pay for preseason medical exams, do you?
A Google search for “UFC Fighter Go Fund Me” revealed that Ansaroff is not the only UFC fighter that has had to go to the public with hat in hand in advance of stepping into the Octagon. Zak Cummings, James Krause and Lauren Murphy have had to take to Go Fund Me in order to get cornermen and training partners to their UFC debut fights.
It’s funny that White is so quick to put financial details out there when a fighter leaves the UFC with a grievance over money, while at the same time withholding most of the pay information for fighters on the active UFC roster. Well, it’s not literally funny, to borrow a word that White misuses often — it’s sad.
Ideally, White will stop with the childish and transparent attempts to paint former fighters as whining ingrates, while other fighters on the UFC roster are more or less begging for help or working full time jobs to make ends meet. If he can’t manage that, maybe it’s time for the UFC, and other fight promotions, to open up the books and show us all exactly what the fighters are getting paid. After all, that’s something that the NFL, NBA, MLB and NHL all manage to do without the world coming to an end.
