The UFC's Three Greatest Legends Are All A-Holes

Conor McGregor's latest legal battle reminds us what we're dealing with.

At its best, combat sports can produce heroes.

Real, genuine tell-your-kids-you-saw-them-fight-and-they’ll-care heroes.

Muhammad Ali.

The greatest is a singular figure, to be sure — more famous globally than The Beatles, more significant historically than multiple U.S. Presidents — but he’s far from the only admirable athlete to grace the ring and even the cage.

When the UFC rose from the ashes under the Fertitta family’s ownership, they promised they would overtake boxing. They would promote the great heavyweight championship fights.

Heavyweight title fights have an aura because they purport to answer the question, “Who is the toughest man alive?”

Heavyweight produced not only the titanic Ali, but also the larger-than-life lovable George Foreman. Foreman’s comeback and redemption arc in the 1990s was a delight and America could not get enough of the man (or his signature grill).

Lennox Lewis is a respected elder statesman.

Vitali Klitschko is a politician in war-torn Ukraine.

Even Mike Tyson, with his checkered past has enjoyed a bizarre and lovable redemption arc.

And now, Mike Tyson is a best case scenario if you’re a fan of Conor McGregor.

Remember him? The biggest star that the UFC has produced in the last decade?

McGregor very well may end up winning the civil case he’s currently on trial over in Dublin, but I don’t think there’s anyone alive who could honestly say the man has a good, or even decent reputation.

At this point, after so many allegations from so many different women, not to mention the old dude he got caught punching on video, the specifics of no single case really matter. His reputation is set with the public.

And it’s gross.

Dude’s not ever going to be given the benefit of the doubt by anyone ever again.

Conor’s behavior in recent years has done so much more than “tarnish his legacy”, it demands a dramatic downward re-assessment of McGregor’s entire career and maybe even that of the promotion that produced him.

Contemplating Conor McGregor in 2024 begs the question “what’s this asshole famous for again?”

He was a two-division champ who knocked off a murderer’s row of UFC featherweights in spectacular fashion and moved up to demolish the lightweight champ.

That’s it.

That’s what he did.

He was also a front-runner who never won a best of three series against a great rival.

He was the biggest star of the sport who wandered off and pissed away his peak years with a freak-show boxing match and a irrelevant rivalry with Nate Diaz that went unresolved by a rubber match.

He was humiliated by Khabib Nurmagomedov and he never earned a rematch.

But it’s not just Conor who disappointed on an epic scale.

Ronda Rousey recently took a career coffin nail from long-time Bellator commentator Jimmy Smith.

Here’s a highlights from his testimony:

I had a producer told me a story about they she came in and they were interviewing her for a pre-fight (promo) video and she sat down and went “This is the worst part of my day. I hate dealing with you people.” That's what she said to the guy and everybody had a story like that.

Everybody had a story like that.

Jimmy was classy enough to slaver up Ronda about her career accomplishments but here’s the deal for me:

• She never overcame a truly great challenge and when things went wrong she folded and quit forever.

• She never faced Cris Cyborg.

• She never came back to beat or even challenge either of the women who knocked her out.

• And the more you learn about her career and business dealings the less likable she gets.

Darin Harvey, the agent who funded the beginnings of Rousey’s career and got dumped when she signed with the UFC, was openly gleeful when she suffered her career-defining loss to Holly Holm.

Harvey self-identified as the Victor Von Frankenstein of Rousey’s career and openly acknowledged that “I created a monster” at the peak of her fame.

Harvey’s lucky because he and Rousey were able to come to an “amicable legal settlement” for an unnamed amount.

"He's suing me for a lot of money right now. That's all right. I can afford it."

At this point, do I even care about Ronda Rousey’s MMA career?

Does anyone other than the 966 people who crowdfunded her graphic novel writing debut to the tune of $80,000?

While you’re attempting to process that in your head, don’t even get me started about the man headlining this weekend’s UFC 309 in Madison Square Garden.

I’ll let this recent how-is-he-not-getting-sued-for-this-shit video from MMA Guru speak for Jon Jones’ reputation going into this bout:

Am I the only one who feels cheated by the three biggest stars of MMA’s peak decade?

All three of UFC’s legends — Conor, Ronda, and Bones Jones — had every opportunity to capitalize on their Octagon accomplishments to become, if not lasting cultural icons, then at least well-liked former champions respected for having been the best at their sport.

They pissed it all away.

The fighters did. Their handlers did. The UFC front office did. The UFC’s owners did.

They all assumed that simply winning a few cage fights guaranteed lasting fame and fortune. A lifetime of cultural prestige.

They forgot that a fighter’s career narrative arc has to be artfully managed to at least produce a feeling of resolution, of challenges honorably met and mostly mastered.

And most importantly they forgot the fight career is only the beginning.

To truly reap the rewards of fistic accomplishment, a fighter must always remember that their life outside the cage is what gives their wins inside the cage meaning that will be rewarded by lasting fan loyalty.

Ironically, the only MMA superstar of recent years with both a satisfying in-cage career arc and an admirable life story is the one who got away from the UFC, Francis Ngannou.

Nate Wilcox is Editor-in-Chief of The MMA Draw newsletter on Substack.