Tag: Nate Diaz

Five months ago, the UFC’s best-laid plans came crashing down. Conor McGregor, the sport’s brightest star and featherweight kingpin, stepped into the cage at UFC 196 on March 5 for what was supposed to be a fun fight with veteran Nate Diaz.

A last-minute replacement for lightweight champion Rafael Dos Anjos, Diaz was expected to put up a valiant effort en route to certain defeat. Smart money had the fight ending in Round 2—but it wasn’t Diaz the oddsmakers expected to see with hands raised in victory.

This fight was supposed to be one more brick in the eventual McGregor statue inevitably built to memorialize his greatness at UFC headquarters. Instead, Diaz, blood dripping from a brutal McGregor assault in Round 1, finished the favorite to the shock and awe of an entire sport with a rear-naked choke.

“I’m not surprised motherf–kers,” Diaz told a delighted Joe Rogan after the fight, but that wasn’t true for the rest of the fight world. It was a huge upset—but one that felt obvious in retrospect. Now, just five months later, the two fighters will run it back at UFC 202 on Saturday.

Is that enough time for McGregor to make the adjustments needed to rewrite history? Or is Diaz simply that kid McGregor doesn’t want to see in his bracket? Bleacher Report lead writers Chad Dundas and Jonathan Snowden discuss.

    

Jonathan Snowden: It’s easy to erase the previous nine minutes of action and focus in like a laser beam on the fight’s glorious finish. After all, it was one of the most shocking in modern UFC history. Watching the light go out of McGregor‘s eyes, his seemingly indefatigable confidence shaken to its core by a staggering left hand, was one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever seen in an athletic competition.

Watching the fight back, you can practically see the moment that McGregor, a fighter built on a powerful left hand and an even more powerful self-belief, faltered, the moment doubt crept into his mind. The fight was over from there—McGregor never recovered, and Diaz never stopped coming forward, a “skinny fat” Terminator robot with Stockton swagger and a slapping left hand.

But until that instant everything changed, it was a fight built on volume. And, lest we forget, McGregor was giving as good as he got—better if you ask him and glance at the FightMetric numbers. In fact, you could argue he was winning the fight until, suddenly, he wasn’t.

Is that thread of hope enough, Chad? Both for McGregor and fans expected to dish out $60 for a rematch? Can McGregor beat Diaz?

    

Chad Dundas: My gut tells me he’ll beat Diaz this time, Jonathan, though I freely admit I base that opinion on little besides my belief in the collective fight IQ of McGregor and coach John Kavanagh. Well, that and the borderline-spiritual ebb and flow of how this sport operates at its highest levels.

McGregor and the Irish Coach K—can I call him that? I think I can—strike me as the sort of fellows who won’t rest until they’ve closed the loopholes that spelled defeat at UFC 196.

As you mentioned, the first bout was a short-notice affair against a guy in Diaz whose baiting, pressure style is deceptively difficult to game-plan around. To top it off, McGregor had sprinted heedlessly into the welterweight division, seemingly without much thought as to how the added weight would undermine his cardio and diminish the natural advantage his power punches had given him at featherweight.

Leading up to that initial fight, McGregor had notched 18 of his 19 career wins via first- or second-round stoppage, so I suppose you can’t blame the guy for assuming he’d stroll in and KO Diaz and stroll out again none the worse for wear.

When it didn’t happen, McGregor didn’t appear to have a plan B.

Well, it’s plan B time now, Jonathan.

The fascinating thing about this fight will be seeing how McGregor has been able to pick up the pieces from his first defeat inside the Octagon. Is he still mentally up to the task of being Conor McGregor, UFC Superstar™? Has he figured out the puzzle of Diaz’s high-volume boxing style? Can he handle this weight (not to mention Diaz’s size and length)? Can he be more than just a potshotting headhunter?

I’m cautiously predicting the answer to those questions will be yes. How about you? 

    

Jonathan: McGregor thought he could be the same McGregor he’d been at featherweight, the one who knocked Chad Mendes silly and took the title from the great Jose Aldo in just “tirteen” seconds. But, as you rightly point out, that was at 145 pounds. In the cage with the taller, rangier Diaz, McGregor was giving up the size and reach advantages he’d grown so accustomed to. 

But size and weight, despite their continued appearances in his press appearances, were not the main issue. McGregor‘s failings in this fight were primarily strategic. Against a fellow southpaw like Diaz, the tactics he normally employs, especially his lead left hand, didn’t work as well as he’d have liked—and when he did land, Diaz smiled through the pain.

Psychologically, as the smaller man, that had to have been hard, the worst fears about fighting a larger foe realized in front of millions. Worse than that, this wasn’t just a failure of power and speed. This was a failure of craft. Diaz didn’t merely outsize McGregor—he outfought him, using both hands while McGregor relied only on the left. In the end, this was a battle of skill. And it was one McGregor clearly lost.

Of course, there is a time-tested approach for fighting a Diaz. Their wide stances leave both brothers wide-open for leg kicks, a technique McGregor used successfully with oblique and side kicks to the knee before falling victim to a slugger’s bloodlust. McGregor also has to lead with a steady jab and then throw the left hand of doom. Otherwise, Diaz will see it coming for miles and slap him silly every time he tries to finish the fight.

There are two questions here, at least as far as the athletic portion of this contest: Is McGregor the kind of fighter who can make the adjustments necessary to win with a full camp to prepare for the tricky Diaz? And, perhaps most interestingly, can his swagger survive a humbling loss? 

A third question lurks, too—what will happen to all the fair-weather fans who followed McGregor into the sport? Will they stick around for the ride? Just how important is this fight for McGregor, Chad?

    

Chad: I think this is the most important fight of McGregor‘s life, and I don’t just say that because that’s what every single fighter has said before every single fight since the dawn of sports media. I say it because this time, it actually happens to be true.

The simple fact is, I don’t see how McGregor can go on being the UFC’s answer to Ric Flair if he loses back-to-back fights to Nick Diaz‘s little brother. Lest we forget, previous to UFC 196, Nate Diaz had established a nearly nine-year, 21-fight track record of being inconsistent in the Octagon. 

Before that night in March, his biggest career win was probably over Donald Cerrone at UFC 141. No impartial observer had the younger Diaz tabbed as a future champion, main event star or even really a “needle-mover,” as UFC President Dana White once famously quipped. We always really liked and admired the guy—it’s hard not to love a Diaz brother, man—but nobody expected him to take over the world.

In other words, Diaz had spent nearly the entirety of his career being a guy McGregor absolutely can’t afford to lose to in a high-profile fight. Then he did, and it raised fairly significant questions about Mac’s future.

If it happens again, McGregor and the UFC will blast out another smokescreen about fighting at welterweight and all that, but many of us will know the truth: that the bombastic Irishman isn’t nearly as good as he claims to be.

Along with that revelation, McGregor would forfeit much of his appeal and much of his all-important bargaining power. Featherweight clashes with people like Jose Aldo and Frankie Edgar might still loom. McGregor might still be able to talk his way into some big late-career fights, a la Chael Sonnen, but his heydays might well be over if he slips up here.

What do you think, Jonathan. Am I being too dire? Or is this really do or die for McGregor?  

    

Jonathan: I’ve always thought McGregor had the potential for greatness. But the great thing about athletics is that these kinds of questions aren’t often left to the imagination. 

By taking a chance and stepping into the cage against a bigger, more experienced man on short notice, McGregor flew a little too close to the sun. If he fails again, this time with a full training camp to solve the Diaz puzzle, is he MMA‘s Icarus? Does this overreach, and not the stunning win over Aldo, become his defining moment?

I think so.

McGregor has become a mainstream figure of sorts in the last year. Another loss won’t entirely kill his career. But he can’t be the Conor McGregor we’ve all come to either love or love to hate if he’s on the losing side of the ledger too often. After all, a loser with a big mouth, ultimately, is still just a loser.

That’s why I’m picking McGregor again. Last time, Diaz proved all his doubters wrong, and it was delightful. But it feels a little too much like an extended victory lap for him, the culmination of a great career. McGregor has more to fight for. He’ll win this fight because there’s no other option—not if he wants to keep being Conor McGregor.

    

Jonathan Snowden and Chad Dundas cover combat sports for Bleacher Report.

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