Conor McGregor and the Winds of Change

Conor McGregor celebrating with his paymasters

The cult of personality around celebrities of any stripe is always unnerving. The idea that a particular talent gives one's words more weight or that being well known makes any expression of basic niceness a sign of amazing virtue has disquieting implications for what it means to be a social individual in our mass culture. It also shows how easily taken in we can be by a little charisma from someone corporations have elevated for the sake of enriching themselves. It is touching the royal robe taken to an absurd extreme.

More disturbing is the idea that celebrities, but particularly athletes, owe their fans a perpetual obligation. They literally give us their flesh, on fields, courts, ice, tracks, mats, rings and cages. For this, they are well compensated, to be sure, but that compensation is between employer and employee. It's hard to imagine the level of effusiveness toward their customers required in sports being asked of any other profession. In most other vocations, workers are asked to treat their customers with courtesy, but most importantly, to do a good job. Somehow in sports, watching the athletes perform can feel like we are participating (and because of the profit structures, in a sense we are). Through this quasi-participation we demand our pound of flesh, but we also demand a sort of deference that borders on servility. It is not enough that athletes, and fighters in particular, give us their bodies and receive payment for it, but we also demand they be grateful to us for allowing them to make that sacrifice. For all the glorious pretense of sport, there is still something deeply ignoble about earning money with one's body and so we insist on supplication to enforce illusions of status over people who are physically gifted.

In light of the grueling training camps and weight cuts fighters go through and the documented trends of severe social anxiety among those who choose beating and getting beaten as the best way to earn their daily bread, it seems they can be forgiven for not always being affable. Brooding over entering a cage to hurt or be hurt is a grim affair. The fighter who can approach it with enough aplomb that managing mass fan interactions is an easy assignment seems more suspicious, not less.

And more importantly, populists who give the media and fans the "corn," as Ali called it, can be mistaken for deserving more than they do in the naturally meritocratic fighting world. At this point, most people don't even debate that Conor McGregor should be in a title fight and when they rationalize how he managed to earn it, it's mostly promotional regurgitation. It is only the invincibility of Jose Aldo that has created this opportunity. McGregor's talent is real, but it is the loudness of his questioning Aldo's invincibility that has made the fight of interest. Due to the tactics employed, there have even, startlingly, been comparisons to Muhammad Ali, which tragically misconstrues the context of resistance to oppression in which Ali's performances operated.

In drawing Chad Mendes instead, the narrative changes to being more about Conor proving his worth, though the promotional engine would have one believe it's simply a coronation. Mendes represents a bulwark against the subversion of meritocracy in MMA in favor of base hype. A meritocratic rise to the top fueled by a pure love of combat is fairly sacred among fighters and some fans. It's one of the reasons why taking dives or easy fights is considered so deplorable as just performing for the money is insuffficiently transcendent to fit the metaphors we would graft onto watching people batter each other. Talking big and gladhanding fans is an equally reprehensible way to the top in some quarters, but fighters know how hardscrabble the business is, so few will object unless they feel overlooked or unless pressed by a relentlessly questioning media.

Conor McGregor is unique right now, but he's barely treading new ground. A victory over Chad Mendes, however the fight came about, will launch him into serious conversation in earnest, but until he accomplishes such a feat, the show he and the Zuffa promotional team are putting on should be greeted with skepticism. It may bode ill for the sustainability of our sport despite the short term spike in revenues it brings to a UFC that has gotten used to flash in the pan stunts in the wake of becoming a global brand. For McGregor's sake, I hope he's everything he claims to be. After UFC 189, we will at last be able to judge him based on what he's done rather than what we've been told. How fandom reacts or is reshaped by this bright and unexpected star may well impact the sport for some time to come.

Template to Victory: Fabricio Werdum vs. Cain Velasquez

Werdum battering Velasquez at UFC 188

UFC 188 is officially over and we have a new undisputed UFC Heavyweight champion in Fabricio Werdum. To me there were 3 things each fighter did (or didn't do) that led to the result.

Werdum

1. Relentless assertion of the plum: The thai plum clinch is definitely Werdum's comfort zone on the feet. He's been working it into his game for years now and has only gotten better at it during this current run in the UFC. Prior to the fight, I didn't think he would be able to assert the plum because I felt Cain was too bull necked and had good level changes. I was right until Werdum's determination made me wrong. Throughout the first round, Werdum couldn't get control of the head every time he tried for the plum clinch. In the second, he kept going after it and secured it on a few key occasions that either led to a knee or to a stiff jab when Cain snapped back out of it. This pattern continued in the third and led to some pivotal shots that wobbled Cain and sapped his juices.
2. The jab: Werdum kept his jab in Cain's face the whole fight. Every time they disengaged, Werdum made sure to touch Cain's face with his jab before he could get into his usual head movement pattern. Cain's couldn't string together his combinations because the jab was touching him before he could get space to reset. The jab also allowed Fabricio to set up the right combinations at the appropriate range, maximizing his reach advantage.
3. Controlling the arms: In the first round, Cain used his usual bullying style to press Fabricio against the cage, but Werdum constantly worked to establish control at the bicep and shoulder and worked to take away Cain's clinch. When Cain got double underhooks, Werdum used his control of the bicep (with his hands) and shoulder (with his elbows) to create space and snatch the plum. When Cain reacted, Werdum pummeled in. During their brief ground exchanges, Fabricio used his control of the bicep to roll through to a turtle from side control and then at another point used wrist control to stand back up. He definitely miscalculated a few times against the cage and ate some heavy shots for it, but overall he timed his control well.

Velasquez

1. Forgetting about the body: Cain's generally a headhunter, but in the Dos Santos fights, he used body shots to keep his opponent honest and accumulate damage. In this fight, neither fighter went to the body much, if at all. A guy with a height and reach disadvantage like Cain had here should have been looking to roll under that jab and punish the body, but it seemed Cain just decided to headhunt this time around. Werdum's timing with the jab was a big contributing factor, but at no point did attacking the body seem to be part of Cain's strategy.
2. Disorganized kicking: Cain landed a lot of kicks on Werdum's legs, but they all seemed like kicks of opportunity rather than set-ups for combinations or finishers themselves. Werdum came forward or cut off his angle and Cain kicked to punish, but didn't really seem to have a second or third option off the kick. I put this down to Werdum not allowing himself to be walked down and trading in the pocket, but typically Cain uses kicks very well to set up his punches or clinch work. This time, they were just flicked out there.
3. Hands down, chin up: If there's ever been a weakness to Cain's striking, it's his willingness to fight with his hands close to his waist and his chin jutting out. While he seemed to use this as a ploy to lure Junior Dos Santos in off the jab, he couldn't get a rhythm going against Werdum, so this technical choice failed him. If he was trying to draw the jab, he was successful, but unfortunately, he couldn't move under it in time, owing largely to his quickly depleted gas tank, but moreso to Fabricio's timing the jab very well. Realistically, even more than the jab, this posture allowed Werdum to snatch the stretch plum and reel him in and then make him fight an exhausting fight to punch or roll his way out.

While Werdum got a definitive victory, I think Cain could potentially make the adjustments to win. The thing to remember about Velasquez is that he's only had 15 fights in his career. In this era of fast tracked champions, that seems less relevant, but it matters. He's a young dude with a lot of talent, great work ethic and he seems to be a sponge for learning. American Kickboxing Academy has shown difficulty with getting their guy through when he's the nail instead of the hammer, so I'll be interested to see if they can adapt his game. Werdum is such a scrappy fighter. His own ability to adapt is what's kept him in the game so long. I hope we get to see both of these excellent fighters in a few more great wars.

The Ever-Evolving Vitor Belfort

Vitor Belfort has had perhaps the most significant evolution of any fighter or athlete period who's stuck around their sport for as long as he has. It's been fun to watch him add tools to his game. In fact, I would argue no championship caliber fighter in the history of MMA has transformed their game as radically as Vitor Belfort has over the course of his career. The only one who comes close is Anderson Silva, who totally reinvented himself upon his arrival in the UFC. It was weird to see the old Anderson return, with shoulders held high and a careful plodding style, in the fight against Nick Diaz. The samba was gone from his hips. Randy Couture also added tools to his game at a certain point in his career that made him more dangerous, but only as a means of setting up his bread and butter dirty boxing and clinch game. Vitor, owing perhaps to his youth when he entered the game, has been a master of technical and strategic reinvention.

Vitor started as a BJJer under the legendary Carlson Gracie, then grafted boxing skills onto his BJJ courtesy of trainer Al Stankie. He wasn't a very good boxer in the beginning, but had very fast powerful hands and seemed to have laser sharp accuracy. These skills allowed him to quickly defeat his opponents in the UFC 12 Heavyweight tournament where he burst on the scene. His fight with Randy Couture at UFC 15 showed how far he had to go in developing his boxing skills and his wrestling and clinch work was pretty unremarkable as well. Way back when, I interviewed Randy and he told me the key to beating Vitor was that he had a "click" where he would move backwards and then he would sort of pause and that's when you knew the flurry was coming. As long as you jabbed him on the click, you could beat him. Randy's boxing coach figured this out in 1997, having only seen a little of Vitor in action, but he said he used the same strategy when they fought years later in their third fight.

Belfort finishing Joe Charles at UFC Japan

At UFC Japan, we finally got to really see Vitor's BJJ skills when he dismantled Joe Charles. People ridicule that fight, but the "ghetto man" had at least been around against some names (albeit in a mostly uninspiring career). That Vitor contested it exclusively on the ground was a testament to his confidence.

After an unimpressive loss to Kazushi Sakuraba, we saw a Vitor who started to take his wrestling more seriously in his matches with Gilbert Yvel and Daijiro Matsui. Darryl Gholar was training with some of Carlson's guys at the time and would follow them to the formation of Brazilian Top Team. The difference in that Vitor was noticeable as he played a safer, more patient game, working his takedowns and learning to use his hands for ground and pound rather than just mad dash flurries. The fights were incredibly boring, but it was clear he was maturing.

Funny aside: I bumped into Vitor just by chance on the street in San Diego right after the Yvel fight. It was weird to me at the time how young he was because he seemed older on screen. He told me to go around the corner to Rodrigo Medeiros' academy where they were all watching the fight. He's like "Hey, I just fought in Japan. It was really great. The fight was really great. You should check it out." I was like "awesome!" So I go to the gym with these people all huddled around the screen and suffered through like half an hour of Vitor throwing potshots in Yvel's guard. Vitor comes in with a big smile and gives me a thumbs up so I didn't dare leave.

Belfort facing off against teammate Ricardo Arona at ADCC 2001

Vitor's BJJ was high at the time from working at BTT and his wrestling had really come along. He showed it off to good effect at ADCC 2001, taking 3rd in the absolute (though how legitimate his match with BTT teammate Ricardo Arona was can be left up to the imagination). His BJJ was the difference maker in his fights against Bobby Southworth and Heath Herring. He seemed to rob Herring of a win in a highly questionable decision, but there were a few times he was in trouble that his BJJ made the difference.

By the time he faced Chuck Liddell at UFC 37.5 we saw a transitional Vitor who had finally learned how to box a little bit and was even kickboxing. To me, the Vitor that showed up to fight Liddell was the beginning of the modern Vitor. He still hadn't shaken the click, but he was picking his shots better, using footwork and attempting to incorporate low and high kicks into his game. In the fight with Marvin Eastman a year later (a decidedly lesser opponent) he was able to really show the benefits of the muay thai training he'd been doing, unleashing brutal knees on Eastman and opening up one of the worst cuts in MMA history. Vitor was finally learning to put it all together.

Vitor and wife Joanna Prado holding photos of Priscilla Belfort

It was around this time that Vitor's sister Priscilla Belfort disappeared, a victim of an apparent kidnapping. Vitor soldiered on and fought Randy Couture anyway and landed that one in a million seam of the glove shot that won him the light heavyweight title. It would've been interesting to see how that fight would have looked if it had continued considering where Vitor was in his training. Belfort's timing and patience had changed tremendously by then. Sadly, by the time he and Couture rematched, his sister's death was a certainty, so who can know how much of a role it played in his training and disappointing in cage performance. The click was allowing Couture to get his set ups and Vitor just couldn't handle Randy's clinch game or superior wrestling. Vitor would have similar troubles in his fight with Tito Ortiz, despite a creditable effort, and the fighter who was submitted by Alistair Overeem in Pride seemed like a ghost of his former self.

Vitor waded through a few fights over the following years, winning some, losing some, but he often seemed either ill prepared or non-committal. At a certain point he started training his BJJ with Checkmat and he started experimenting with integrating some new tricks against lesser competition. His fight with James Zikic is especially interesting to watch because of how methodical he was, but he really put an MMA clinic on Zikic who gave him all he had. It's actually one of Vitor's best performances as a complete fighter. He used beautiful set ups to get the fight to the ground and was moving between hand and foot attacks well. His BJJ looked phenomenal.

A more patient version of flurry Vitor returned for the fights with Terry Martin, Matt Lindland and Rich Franklin, but was derailed by Anderson Silva's mighty front kick. Vitor was a true veteran in every sense of the word by the time he fought Anthony Johnson. AJ managed to put him in trouble, but Vitor's scrambles on the ground were still legit and he weathered a few storms to find the submission. It was clear he was slowing down a bit, but he had become a cagey, crafty vet. His short notice fight with Jon Jones proved this as well as he hung around with the champ for four rounds and even managed to be the first person to ever put him in any danger with a slick, tight armbar.

Belfort locking in an armbar on UFC LHW Champion Jon Jones

Back at 185 lbs. following those fights and with the aid of TRT, Vitor dispatched Bisping, Rockhold and Henderson using a completely well rounded attacking game, mixing excellent spacing, timing and footwork with varied leg and hand attacks. No one who saw any version of Vitor would have ever predicted that he'd become a head kick KO artist. But he did, rounding out an impressive growth as a fighter and truly showing the blueprint for how to evolve with the game.

Sadly, I think it's possibly too late at this point as his age, combined with changes to his supplement regimen, will make his endurance a question mark against a Chris Weidman who really knows how to put pressure on his opponents (an area where Vitor struggles) and has learned in just a few years what it took Vitor about eighteen to master. Still, I'm sure he'll have a few good moments in their fight. Vitor's not quite as quick as he used to be, but unlike other fighters who let the loss of speed completely disintegrate their game (Roy Jones Jr. perhaps being the best example), Vitor has adapted his skills to stay relevant in a sport where most of his peers have hung up the gloves. No matter what happens at UFC 187, it's been a fun career.