“Gone In 16 Seconds” — An Animated Short by Chris Rini

By Chris Rini

I am dead tired.

My arm hurts, and my brain is nearly empty. After six months of thinking about nothing but a 16 second fight, it’s hard to envision tackling a new project. So instead of making more artwork, Cage Potato has given me the opportunity to tell you a bit about how I made this one.

By Chris Rini

I am dead tired.

My arm hurts, and my brain is nearly empty. After six months of thinking about nothing but a 16 second fight, it’s hard to envision tackling a new project. So instead of making more artwork, Cage Potato has given me the opportunity to tell you a bit about how I made this one.

Most of August was spent visualizing. While that may sound a bit new agey, if I can see something in my mind, it’s very likely that I’ll be able to create it.

The idea became real in September, when I visited a Chinatown lumber yard and had sheets of 1/2″ birch wood cut into multiple sizes to accommodate the frame sizes:

-Big 13 x 24″ panels that held 4 frames each created the opening shot of Ronda bouncing on her toes waiting for Yves Lavigne’s signal.

-More workable pieces of 11 x 17″ took up most of the animation, they were divided into grids of 9 frames to do the camera zoom, and later divided to only 4 frames per panel to provide more detail during the striking exchange where Rousey really hurts Davis and sets in motion the fight’s ending sequence.

After they landed on the ground, I started going broke and instead of getting new birch cut, I cobbled together all the off-cut pieces and castoffs in my studio and laid out the entire Kesa Gatame punching & ref stoppage sequence.

Drawing and burning the wood blocks is simultaneously the best and worst part of my artwork. It’s one of the more unique aspects but also physically grueling (I have an acupuncturist whose future children I will one day put through college due to our doctor / patient relationship). Midway through the process I consulted twitter as to whether Ronda should have the dual hair buns in the animation even though that isn’t exactly what happened at 175. The answer was a resounding yes, and even though I’d started the animation, I edited in the hairstyle midway through the project. That explains why she doesn’t have them in the intro shot. It took four months and three assistants to draw and burn in everything.

Once the actual frames were done, I worked with my editor to craft a narrative. That’s where the idea of ‘elite fighters blend together various martial arts to form the sport as we know it today’ took form. With the help of striking & technical analysts Patrick Wyman and Lawrence Kenshin, we deduced that Ronda Rousey transitions from boxing to muay thai to judo not only in seconds, but finishes the fight in that micro sequence.

To create the flying through the air effect during the Harai Goshi throw, we photographed his kitchen table which had a cheap wood veneer and panned it across the background of the fight image. Ronda is a fan of Pokemon and I wanted there to be some type of anime (or in my 36 year old mind, Voltron) or Japanese animation visual quality.

I’ve written more than a visual artist should be allowed to write so at this point, I’ll thank you for taking the time to watch Gone In 16 Seconds, and encourage you to visit my home page at https://www.patreon.com/chrisrini to get a look inside my art studio as I create new MMA artworks, animations and Hall of Fame plaques.

I hope this is the beginning of a new friendship with Cage Potato.

UFC 184: The Unstoppable Force Meets the Immovable Object

This Saturday at UFC 184, the most captivating and dominant WMMA champion steps into the Octagon to smash another challenger. The Vegas odds tell us that this will almost certainly happen. The analysts cannot envision a scenario where Zingano’s hand is raised in the end, but there is one clue that all is not lost for Cat.

I’m not hearing or reading a prediction about how the fight will end. No one is saying ‘armbar’ or ‘TKO’ quite as freely as they’ve done in past Rousey title defenses. It’s as though they’re sure Ronda will win, but the path is not crystal clear. One thing is certain, the deeper the fight goes the further the pendulum will swing towards a certain Colorado native. The more this becomes a dogfight, the more murky the crystal ball becomes.

Cat Zingano is more of a force than a fighter. There is a ferocity with which she dispatches opponents that while not as surgical as Rousey, is far more vicious. Her two UFC victories are Lauzonesque affairs. While Ronda has the ‘it’ factor, Zingano has the ‘X’ factor. You cannot count her out. She will not be stopped by conventional means and I’ll be glued to the screen as the fight unfolds.

In Defense of The Spider: A Speculative

By CP Reader Steve Lowther

As a bonafide Anderson Silva nuthugger (try not to picture that), I’ve been asking myself the same question for the past few weeks — “Why, Anderson, Why?” You were arguably the greatest mixed martial artist of our generation, maybe of all time. If Impossible was Nothing, nothing inside the cage was impossible. You, Anderson “The Spider” Silva, lived in some sort of netherworld between our world and The Matrix, where you made former champions look like amateurs and knocked out heavier men with a jab while backpedaling. Even on your worst night, you triangle-chocked victory from the loud-mouthed jaws of defeat. You were MMA’s first superhero, it’s first Superman.

Then you met your kryptonite. His name was Chris Weidman.

By CP Reader Steve Lowther

As a bonafide Anderson Silva nuthugger (try not to picture that), I’ve been asking myself the same question for the past few weeks — “Why, Anderson, Why?” You were arguably the greatest mixed martial artist of our generation, maybe of all time. If Impossible was Nothing, nothing inside the cage was impossible. You, Anderson “The Spider” Silva, lived in some sort of netherworld between our world and The Matrix, where you made former champions look like amateurs and knocked out heavier men with a jab while backpedaling. Even on your worst night, you triangle-chocked victory from the loud-mouthed jaws of defeat. You were MMA’s first superhero, it’s first Superman.

Then you met your kryptonite. His name was Chris Weidman.

This article is not about whether Silva was clowning around before Weidman knocked him out, and it won’t be about how well he was or wasn’t doing before snapping his leg in half on Weidman’s knee. It won’t be a defense of PED’s, either. It will be an attempt, probably in vain, to delve into the motivations of Anderson Silva, and why he did what he did — take steroids.

AN HONEST MISTAKE

This is the defense Silva is currently running with, and a part of me wants to believe him. He’s been fighting professionally since 1997 and not once had he failed a pre or post-fight test. Maybe Silva got some bad advice from someone close to him. Have you seen his strength and conditioning coach? He’s 57 and looks like Hercules’s favorite son. Maybe he gave Silva the blue pill instead of the red pill. Maybe Silva saw a fly-by-night doctor when he should’ve seen an accredited one. This argument is a loose one based almost solely on my nuthugging denial, but it helps me sleep better at night.

INACCURATE RESULTS

This is another part of Anderson’s current defense, “The results are wrong.” After all, he supposedly passed another pre-fight test, right (Ed note: Before failing his post-fight one)? Maybe test B’s results trump test A (Ed note: And C)? Physically, Silva doesn’t look like the ultimate-roided-fucking-killer steroids supposedly turn a man into, and I don’t know about you, but the man I saw beating Nick Diaz looked more like a tentative tactician, almost hesitant at times, not a machine gun of punches and kicks. Think about Anderson Silva in his prime, the one who lit up Chris Leben, Forrest Griffin, and Rich Franklin. Now think about that Anderson Silva on steroids. That guy I see in my head doesn’t look like the guy who beat Nick Diaz.

This wouldn’t be the first time a fighter has suffered the fallout of inaccurate testing (see: Cung Le). Although limited, there is precedent for inaccurate test results. If Anderson Silva doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, who does?

HE JUST GOT CAUGHT

This is the most cynical theory, because it suggests that Silva was on the juice throughout his entire career and just got caught. It wouldn’t be the most outlandish theory — after all, Silva didn’t begin his climb to greatness until his early to mid 30′s, a time generally considered to the be the tail end of a fighter’s prime, if not the beginning of the downswing. This theory, however, begs the question: If Silva had been on PED’s of one form or another, How and why did he get caught just now? Laziness? Incompetence? I find it hard to believe that Silva, one of the most dedicated and disciplined athletes in MMA, would somehow botch his cycling routine on what may be his last fight. That would be a sign of incompetence. Silva is many things, but a fuck-up he is not.

THE PRESSURE

To me, this is the most likely reason for Silva’s actions. We all face pressure every day in our lives. Most of us, however, don’t carry the weight of a nation on our back every time we go to work (this statement not applicable to Conor McGregor). Although the win streak and the title were gone, I have a feeling the greatest pressure Anderson felt is not from his family or fans, not from the country that he fights for, but from himself. For a guy who fights despite objections from his family, the only pressure that could make a man like Anderson Silva continue to compete must come internally. And what else could that kind of pressure do?

A poor example: When I was younger, my brother and I used to play Tekken on the good old Playstation 1. I’d beat him every game. Every. Single. Game. Then one day he beat me. I was shocked. Then he beat me again. I hated him, instantly. “One more game,” I’d say until I won again, which I did the third time around. But that feeling, that need to avenge my loss, to not quit before tasting victory again, I experienced it at the smallest level. Could Anderson have experienced it at the highest?

THE PROBABLE REALITY

The sad thing is, we’ll never truly know why Anderson did what he did, why he decided to take steroids leading up to his fight with Diaz, of all people. He’d faced killers before, and on paper Nick Diaz was a walking punching bag, a gimme fight. Silva can argue test results all he wants, but the NSAC isn’t some shanty-lab in Hong Kong. The timing of the test results are suspect; the results themselves are not.

The question lingers: “Why, Anderson, Why?” Why risk tarnishing your legacy? Maybe Anderson was afraid to suffer that third loss. Maybe he was afraid to let down his fans and country yet again. Maybe he thought he needed that edge to perform, that kick-in-the-butt to get over the hump in rehab or in training. To me, his legacy as the greatest striker and arguably the greatest mixed martial artist of our generation will remain. Unfortunately for Silva, I seem to be the minority, and from this moment forward, like Barry Bonds, there will always be an asterisk next to Anderson Silva and his accomplishments.

UFC 187: The Greatest UFC Card In the Past Few Years (And Possibly Ever)

Look at it. It’s glorious, isn’t it? In a UFC landscape currently being dominated by complaints of oversaturation, dwindling fan interest and rampant PED use, along comes a card to finally set us straight, or at least distract us from said oversaturation and rampant PED use for a little while.

Having already announced a complete overhaul to its drug testing program last night, the UFC dropped another bombshell later in the evening by announcing the epic lineup of its Memorial Day weekend card, UFC 187.

Details after the jump.

Look at it. It’s glorious, isn’t it? In a UFC landscape currently being dominated by complaints of oversaturation, dwindling fan interest and rampant PED use, along comes a card to finally set us straight, or at least distract us from said oversaturation and rampant PED use for a little while.

Having already announced a complete overhaul to its drug testing program last night, the UFC dropped another bombshell later in the evening by announcing the epic lineup of its Memorial Day weekend card, UFC 187.

Details after the jump.

As confirmed by Ariel Helwani on UFC Tonight, UFC 187 will not only feature a main event light heavyweight title tilt between Jon Jones and Anthony Johnson, but a co-main event that will finally see Chris Weidman defend his middleweight title against Vitor Belfort.

Oh, and had I mentioned that Donald Cerrone will also be squaring off against Khabib Nurmagomedov in a meeting of top lightweights on that card as well? Or that Andrei Arlovski will be facing Travis Browne? Or that Joseph Benavidez vs. John Moraga? GOOD GOD, SOMEBODY STOP ME BEFORE I-

Despite lacking any semblance of an undercard, UFC 187 is already being hailed as the most stacked event since UFC 100, and rightfully so. Hell, it’s arguably the best lineup the UFC has ever had. Go ahead, challenge me on this. I’ll be here, grinding my teeth in anticipation for what is the most stacked UFC event ever ever.

Jon Jones, as you know, is fresh off a five-round shellacking of Daniel Cormier at UFC 182, while “Rumble” just finished disposing of the man many expected would be facing Jones next, Alexander Gustafsson.

Chris Weidman and Vitor Belfort have been expected to face each other on no less than a dozen occasions, with TRT withdrawals and injuries (most recently, a rib injury on Weidman’s part) nixing the bout on multiple occasions.

As for Cerrone and Nurmagomedov, the former is currently riding career record-tying 7-fight win streak, having most recently eeked out a decision over rival/buddy Ben Henderson in January. The Russian Sambo specialist, on the other hand, was briefly linked to a fight with Cerrone at UFC 178 before a knee injury sidelined him indefinitely.

And finally, to the only guys whose careers you might not be completely up to date on. Since being knocked out by Demetrious Johnson in their UFC on FOX 9 rematch, Team Alpha Male’s Joe Benavidez has scored back-to-back wins over Tim Elliott and Dustin Ortiz. His opponent Moraga has similarly bounced back after tasting defeat against Johnson, having gone 3-1 in his past 4 fights and riding a two fight win streak into his fight with Benavidez.

Got. Damn. This card is incredible. Pray with me, Nation. Pray that this thing actually makes it to fruition.

Shipping Up to Providence: A Brief Conversation With Robert “Wreck-It Rob” Sullivan


(Photo via Bellator)

By CP Reader Chris Huntemann

With the last name Sullivan, you would think Method MMA and Baltimore BJJ’s Robert Sullivan would be popular with a certain sect of people. And you would be right.

Sullivan fought for the third time late last month for CES MMA, an organization based out of Providence, R.I. He notched his second win in the organization via unanimous decision and seems to have built a small following up there, if you ask Sullivan.


(Photo via Bellator)

By CP Reader Chris Huntemann

With the last name Sullivan, you would think Method MMA and Baltimore BJJ’s Robert Sullivan would be popular with a certain sect of people. And you would be right.

Sullivan fought for the third time late last month for CES MMA, an organization based out of Providence, R.I. He notched his second win in the organization via unanimous decision and seems to have built a small following up there, if you ask Sullivan.

“Being it’s in Providence, they seem to like the Irish quite a bit,” Sullivan told me on Facebook recently. “My first time up there last year I beat a hometown hero, so I think that won me some respect. I got offered to come up there probably to be meat the first time. Now I’m 2-1 with the organization.”

Sullivan focused a lot on boxing during his training camp, by virtue of his opponent being a strong striker. Sullivan’s training camp was also a bit more arduous this time around.

“Training and coaching wrestling all day just had me a little overworked,” Sullivan said. “Also, some of my training partners coach wrestling at other schools so we were making what we could work.”

While Sullivan has also fought for organizations like Bellator, he found that promotion in mixed martial arts is pretty uniform.

“You sit around for a long time at weigh-ins – they are never ever on time,” Sullivan said. “You do all the doctor crap, make weight, fill back up, get some rest and fight.”

When it finally came time to fight, Sullivan felt the tone of the fight early, and hard.

“I got nailed early on with the hardest punch I’ve ever felt in a fight,” he said. “I was happy I ate it, but it messed my nose up pretty bad.”

Sullivan recovered to dominate the rest of the fight, despite feeling his gas tank empty toward the end.

“The last minute or so, I burned out,” he said. “My one regret from my last camp was not getting in the proper amount of running. So needless to say, that final round between my busted nose and lack of running, I was digging deep. I was happy with my performance overall, but I always want to improve on things. I never try to feel satisfied.”

Sullivan plans to fight again in April at Shogun Fights in Baltimore.

Chris Huntemann writes about mixed martial arts in the state of Maryland. He also contributes his thoughts to our site on the UFC, Bellator, and World Series of Fighting. Check out his blog, or follow him on Twitter: @mmamaryland.

Has the UFC Devolved Into the Ultimate Fighting Circus?


(Photo via Getty)

By CP Reader Gideon Brody

Mixed martial arts has always felt like a kind of fighting utopia. A permanent dream state for lovers of fight sports that occasionally seems almost too good to be true. In a sanitised world, it is the closest and most acceptable iteration of the “no holds barred” concept of combat all fight purists have wet dreams about. Two elite combatants. One locked cage. Very few rules. The best fighter wins, right?

Oh wait, no. We’re back in the land of fantasy again. In fact, with the cold hindsight of UFC 183 and many other recent revelations that are presently clouding the MMA horizon, we’re no longer dreaming or fantasising. We’re standing in a stark reality. And the reality is that MMA – or more specifically, MMA’s standard-bearer and aggressively-insistent market leader, the UFC – is beginning to resemble a bit of a circus.


(Photo via Getty)

By CP Reader Gideon Brody

Mixed martial arts has always felt like a kind of fighting utopia. A permanent dream state for lovers of fight sports that occasionally seems almost too good to be true. In a sanitised world, it is the closest and most acceptable iteration of the “no holds barred” concept of combat all fight purists have wet dreams about. Two elite combatants. One locked cage. Very few rules. The best fighter wins, right?

Oh wait, no. We’re back in the land of fantasy again. In fact, with the cold hindsight of UFC 183 and many other recent revelations that are presently clouding the MMA horizon, we’re no longer dreaming or fantasising. We’re standing in a stark reality. And the reality is that MMA – or more specifically, MMA’s standard-bearer and aggressively-insistent market leader, the UFC – is beginning to resemble a bit of a circus.

“But everyone loves a circus!” I hear you cry. Kids loves the circus. Kids up to the age of about 10 love the circus. Right before it becomes socially shameful to admire any form of staged artifice that isn’t the WWE. And increasingly, that is how it feels for all MMA fans. We’re just witnesses to one big sanctioned joke and we’re the dumb people in the audience buying the whole thing. The WWE joke just became the MMA joke.

It’s not like the UFC hasn’t always had the look and feel of a surreal spectacle. It’s sometimes hard to comprehend how this wild, brutal, unreal video game shit hasn’t been either massively regulated by now, or outright stopped. You blink twice at that massive head kick KO or the state of that guy’s face as he battles on for another round and pinch yourself. Is this shit legal? Is this shit really real??

As Real As It Gets™, apparently. And so said all of Zuffa on an all-too frequent basis. Well yeah, it actually was for that innocent moment. We were the wide-eyed kids in the big top laughing at the dude that thinks he’s a cannonball. Like little kids, we kept on piecing together that fragile illusion so many times over. We continued believing in this holy, god-given sport. We believed in the purity of something that stretched back thousands of years. That idea of a gladiator actually walking into an arena full of raucous, bloodthirsty hedonists to the sound of Stemm. Our blood pumped with the insanity of it all.

But now that innocence has gone. An older kid just told us about Royce Gracie. And Josh Barnett. And Stephan Bonnar. And Chael. And Wanderlei. And Cung Le (maybe sorta). And fucking Anderson Silva? Yes. Him. And god knows how many others. The illusion is a shattered mess that desperately needs to be left behind. We’ve grown up with this sport we love, this sport we all had a hand in making, but now we need to demand for more than just staged tricks and circus antics.

So what now? We want something Real. No more sound bites, trademarks or marketing bullshit. We are fed up of being duped and as paying, adult consumers, we deserve better. It isn’t just our money that lines the pockets of the UFC and makes it what it is. It’s our hard work. It’s our passion. Our enthusiasm. Our time. It’s our dumb, childlike innocence that makes us all repeatedly, religiously tune in, and that should not be misused or dismissed.

And what about the fighters? Not all are in on this subterfuge. At least we bloody pray that there is some innocence left within the game itself. It should go without saying that it’s their lives, not ours, that are truly being put at serious risk here. And what of the honest fighter’s career? A life’s work under threat by those who aren’t prepared to work quite as hard. It’s as wrong as it gets. It almost sounds cheap to roll out the same PED clichés. But it will only be a matter of time before the legality of this situation becomes the thing that will close down this phenomenal sport we all love. And heck, why is it even on us to ask these questions of those involved? That in itself is a damning indictment.

Should the buck stop with the fighters, themselves? Of course it should. But fighters are human beings. If a fighter knows there’s a chance they won’t get caught, and there’s a chance their opponent is juicing, etc.? It doesn’t really need further explanation. Does anyone genuinely expect a multitude of individual fighters to act with a universal sense of altruism? Is this even remotely likely? The present situation provides all the evidence needed.

Or do we look to the only realistic solution, to those that already know where the true responsibility lies? Yes, we’re looking at you, Dana and Lorenzo. It will inevitably require the only carrot and stick left in the adult world that elicits any kind of self-discipline (especially in the world of fight sports). That’s right. Money and money. If a main event fighter is caught, not only should the fighter face severe penalties, but the entire event should be pulled or voided and all ticket-holders should be refunded. For other fighters on the bill, the penalties and refunds should be downgraded respectively, but they should still apply. Only then will the potential losses involved act as the conduit for self-regulation. Only then will the UFC be interested in safeguarding its most precious assets.

It behooves the top promotional representatives of this sport to be as responsible as they are wealthy and powerful. The UFC (and other power brokers within the industry) must arrange and fund an elite level of testing if they wish to continue advertising their product as the Ultimate Test. More importantly, the UFC should actively want this sport to be as safe as it can be, for the good of the fighters it claims to protect, and, of course, for the good of itself and the future of this great sport. Or we might as well just accept being those kids at the circus, until we’re all told to wake up.

On Anderson Silva, Nick Diaz, and Compounding the Misery of MMA Fans

By CP Reader Farooq Ahmed

The UFC and its “war on drugs” continues.

MMA fans by now know that both Anderson Silva and Nick Diaz failed drugs tests leading up to/after their UFC 183 headlining act. On a fight card that promised so much leading up to the main event, the fight itself turned out to be more of a frustration between the two middleweights than anything to write home about.

But hey, no big deal right? Anderson Silva is back, Nick Diaz gave the people what they wanted and we all felt like we got our money’s worth.

Disaster.

By CP Reader Farooq Ahmed

The UFC and its “war on drugs” continues.

MMA fans by now know that both Anderson Silva and Nick Diaz failed drugs tests leading up to/after their UFC 183 headlining act. On a fight card that promised so much leading up to the main event, the fight itself turned out to be more of a frustration between the two middleweights than anything to write home about.

But hey, no big deal right? Anderson Silva is back, Nick Diaz gave the people what they wanted and we all felt like we got our money’s worth.

Disaster.

The post fight drug test results showed that Silva, 39, had tested positive for two types of performance enhancing drugs, while Diaz’s positive test (to nobody’s surprise) failed for marijuana metabolites with the Nevada State Athletic Commission (NSAC) director confirming that Diaz came in at double the 150 nanograms per millilitre limit.

If you recall, Silva went on record last October that fighters who test positive should receive lifetime bans:

“When the guys test for the steroids, (they should have) no more fights,” Silva said. “When you use the steroids, you use them for a long time. When you use the steroids for a long time, you have a problem. It’s a drug and it’s not good for the sport.”

Talk about hypocrisy. It’s hard to understand why Silva would risk sullying his reputation under the circumstances of that quote, especially after he had suffered one of the most gruesome sports injuries anyone had ever seen. The whole world was pulling for him.

“(Steroids) make the sport bad,” Silva said. “If you do the sport in a good light, you have a good life. That is my opinion.”

It’s probably easy to have empathy for Silva, he was the greatest we had ever seen in the sport for the best part of a decade — alongside the likes of Georges St. Pierre and Fedor Emelianenko — and the fall from the top was about as quick and strange as they come.

Many Dubbed Silva’s knockout defeat to current middleweight champion Chris Weidman as a ‘fluke’, and the rematch of that fight ended in even more bizarre circumstances. Silva’s leg was snapped in half is a moment that those who bared witness will likely never forget — the images plastered over social media and news outlets the next day, the sound of Silva screaming in agony as he was being taken away from the octagon on a gurney, many assumed for the last time in his career.

It was one of those moments where you’ll never forget where you were when it happened.

It was an unceremonious end to a career that deserved better. But such is the life of a professional fighter. Rarely do they ever go out on top.

So when months later Silva pledged his return, videos of his recovery and training camps circulated. The improbable was going to happen. Silva would return to the Octagon months after a devastating compound fracture and fight again. The MMA community stood arm-in-arm awaiting his triumphant return.

Silva has no previous history of failed drugs tests. For so many years he has embodied the picture of perfect health. But coming off over a year out due to injury, he stated post fight, his son is begging him to stop.

“My son talked to me serious,” Silva said at the post-fight press conference. “When I talked to my son, my son cried. ‘Dad, stop, please. Back home. Please. You don’t need more fights.’”

Clearly despite his best intentions, this is not the end for Silva, who considers himself to be a man of great integrity and honour. His statement went as far as confirming it.

“I’ve been competing in this sport for a very long time. This is my nineteenth fight in the UFC. I have been thoroughly tested many times and have never had a positive drug test. I have not taken any performance-enhancing drugs. My stance on drugs is, and will always be, the same. I’m an advocate for a clean sport.”

Perhaps it won’t tarnish his image, to many; perhaps he will still be seen as the greatest MMA fighter of all time. The Muhammad Ali of his generation. Perhaps for his next fight, he’ll go fully vegan, gluten-free and still dismantle his opponent, just to prove that he is capable, not to you or me, but to himself. But for many more, questions will always remain in regards to the legitimacy of Silva’s legacy.

For Nick Diaz, getting popped for the old ‘Mary Jane’ is nothing new; this is now the third time he’s been caught in his pro career. But nobody really cares about Diaz right now. It’s unlikely you were in total shock and hysteria when the results came in.

Diaz, who when it came to fight week did the usual Nick Diaz thing of missing his flights and open workouts, then proceeded to shit talk his way through the fight with Silva. And now, he’ll be forced to surrender part of the purse that he spent over a year convincing the UFC he was worth.

Maybe it is time for Diaz to finally once and for all walk away from the sport. He’s stated in the past that ‘he’s done’ with fighting (and did it again recently), only to come back for a paycheck. It was abundantly clear at UFC 183 that was the case.

So where do we go from here? Coming off the high that was UFC 183, only to come to crashing halt a couple of days later. It’s a depressing reality that the UFC has had to deal with following two of its four 2015 events.

When it’s Anderson Silva, one of the most recognizable athletes to grace the sport, and Nick Diaz, one of its most marketable fighters, who are testing positive for banned substances, you see just why the UFC has a long way to go.

Farooq Ahmed is a writer for GiveMeSport and Bleacher Report you can follow him on Twitter @farooq09.