Twitter Mailbag: Shane Burgos signs with PFL, worst MMA story ideas, and more
Plus, would you rather fight one lion-sized duck or 20 duck-sized lions? Look deep within your soul before you answer...
The TMB is back again, but before we get into all that, I offer another edition of my personal favorite segment: Nobody Asked Me, But…
You know one of my least favorite parts of following the fight game? As in, from the fan perspective? It’s how much bullshit it asks us to accept. It’s how often it straight up lies to us and asks us to be cool about it. There are plenty of examples (most UFC interim titles, for instance), but the one I’m thinking about at the moment is Bo Nickal’s appearance on Dana White’s Contender Series.
If you missed it, Nickal is the decorated wrestler who recently transitioned to MMA and won his second pro fight under the DWCS banner last week. The whole idea behind the Contender Series is that it’s a bunch of fighters competing to earn UFC contracts, which are handed out at the whims of UFC President Dana White, according to what he thinks of their performances.
Nickal won via submission in 62 seconds. Hard to do much better than that, right? And obviously the UFC wants him. Here’s not there to maybe win a contract. He’s there so the UFC can get its hooks in him before any other promoter does. And yet, he didn’t “win” the UFC contract with that performance. Nope, he has to fight again in this little development league. Here, let White explain.
“I don’t know what else he could have done to look any better. He looked incredible. The only reason I didn’t sign him tonight is because he’s 2-0 now. Like I said, we got eight more weeks of this. Why not have him fight here again, you know what I mean? It just makes sense.”
That’s bullshit, though. We know that, right? He is signed. You’re just trying to feed him some lesser competition to build him up first, and you’d rather do that technically outside the UFC (where, by the way, the payouts are lower). My question is, why can’t we just say that? Why can’t we trust the audience with the truth? Especially because this other explanation – the one that ends with “it just makes sense” – actually makes zero sense. Oh, you didn’t sign him because he’s only 2-0? Well, seems like you knew that'd be the case when he brought him in to fight on the Contender Series when he was 1-0. That’s how math works.
I don’t begrudge the UFC the chance to feed Nickal some warm bodies and get his record looking more respectable. That’s what boxing has been doing with its prospects for decades. It endures because it (mostly) works. But would it be so hard to just be honest about it? Especially since most of us know the truth whether you want to say it or not.
And now, on with the tweets.
It’s important to remember that just because PFL offers the same grand prize to the finals winners, it doesn’t mean everyone is on the same contract. Some fighters are making way more than others for those regular season fights. Burgos said on “The MMA Hour” that it would take “multiple” UFC fights to equal what he’ll make in one fight with the PFL. If fighting is how you feed your family, how are you supposed to turn that down? Especially considering the kind of fighter Burgos is, which is to say the kind known for exciting, sometimes brutal fights? That’s not something you can reliably do for too long, and you never know if the next one might be your last good one.
And just in case you don’t believe me on that last point, consider the recently retired Rory Macdonald. He was 18-2 the night he rematched Robbie Lawler for the UFC welterweight title. He took (and gave) a brutal beating in an all-time classic of a fight, and he was never quite the same after that. Arguably, neither was Lawler.
That can happen, kind of at any point. And if it does happen? Being able to say you were in the UFC at the time isn’t going to count for much. It’s the money – not the imagined prestige – that retains its value the best.
Are you trolling me right now? I did that already, for The Athletic back in 2020. I think it’s paywalled, and I can’t recommend giving them any of your money, so I’ll sum it up by saying that: a) calling up a bunch of pro fighters to ask about the worst night of their professional lives is actually not that fun, and b) I really appreciate everyone who was willing to get into it with me anyway, because it made for a good story.
One thing I’ll never forget from that story was Nate Quarry talking about his knockout loss to Rich Franklin – long a staple in the UFC’s highlight reel – and how the hardest part was the way it reinforced every negative thought he’d ever had about himself. I think we all know that feeling in some way. You try your best and fail BIG, and in the immediate aftermath you experience a lot of distorted thinking. I suck. I’ve always sucked. I will never not suck. No one has ever sucked as much as me. Stuff like that. That’s hard enough on its own, but it’s even worse when thousands of people watched (and continue to watch on that damn highlight reel) and can’t wait to get on the interent and tell you the same thing.
OK, a part of me still thinks this was a decent idea, but remember back when testosterone-replacement therapy (TRT if you nasty) was all the rage with UFC fighters? And remember how, to downplay the fact that they had gotten a doctor’s note to do steroids, a lot of the fighters tried to tell us that it didn’t even do much for them?
Well, I remember reading this story for some cycling publication where one of the writers got on some of that cyclist good-good and then tracked how it improved his performances in races and training. I was at MMA Junkie/USA Today at the time, and doing a lot of jiu-jitsu in my free time, so I suggested a story where I got on testosterone to give an honest appraisal of its effects and also to see if it made me better at grappling tournaments.
The USA Today bosses … were not into it. I don’t blame them, I guess. And I’m glad I didn’t get on (and then have to eventually get off) testosterone just for the sake of content. Still, would have been worth reading about, wouldn’t it? And it would have made for one hell of a beach season.
Yes, but mostly because at this point it seems increasingly likely that Marlon Vera will eventually get a fight against a current champ. Even if Dominick Cruz is getting into the downslope of his thirties, knocking that man out still means something. Plus, since it’s Jose Aldo fight week and all? I’m just going to go ahead and remind you that he’s one aging former champ Vera didn’t beat.
Not really, beyond all the focus on odds and parlays and prop bets maybe being a little annoying for the segment of the fan base that does not give a damn. Fight sports have always, always, always had a gambling connection. It was an entrenched part of the London Prize Ring (where professional boxing was born) and also a big part of why boxing was first banned in England (some nobleman lost his money in a bet and got real mad about it, so he pushed for it to be outlawed). Betting on fights has always and will always be a part of any combat sport. Better for it to be legal and regulated. And if it’s annoying to viewers who don’t like to gamble, well, it’s still gotta be better than seeing all those tweets on the screen.
Look, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that Salt Lake City is a fun place to visit. I just can’t. I won’t. Keep driving until you hit Idaho or Nevada.
In forcing myself to imagine what 20 duck-sized lions would be like, I had to admit that you’re basically talking about especially confident and aggressive house cats. And I’ve known enough regular house cats to know that if even five of them were united in purpose against me it would be a goddamn nightmare. So fine, give me the one lion-sized duck. There’s an animal whose whole body is basically a series of rounded, non-lethal surfaces. I mean, yeah, it can walk and fly and swim – but it doesn’t do any of them all that well. Fucking stupid ducks. Fuck them.
If you’re going to make a career out of it, you’d better have both. But I’ll just say that one seems more teachable than the other. I’ve seen fighters who had the heart and the will but lacked the technical polish, and some of them eventually closed that gap. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone get meaner or more resilient or harder to break as the years go by.
Fight promoters.
Instead of answering your question by naming a specific fighter, can I just say that the term “gatekeeper” has gotten a bad rap? To be a true gatekeeper, especially at the top of this sport, it means that you can beat almost everybody. Fighters hate the term because of the finality it implies – that you are only so good and will never be better – but the hard truth is that the vast majority of pro fighters will never even rise to the level of gatekeeper. To be a gatekeeper is to straddle the line between good and great. Fighters take it as an insult, and I get why, but really you have to be damn good to even qualify for that insult. And if you’re right there, hey, anyone can have one good night.