Really, the only surprising part of this whole thing is that the UFC got beaten to the punch. On April 23, the UFC will run in front of a full crowd of fans for the first time since before the COVID-19 pandemic, when the organization presents UFC 261 from the Vystar Veterans Memorial Arena in Jacksonville. The UFC won’t be the first major sporting organization to run in front of a full capacity crowd: the MLB’s Texas Rangers will have them beat by a few weeks, as they plan to have 100% attendance for their opening series at Globe Life Field.
All along, I assumed without a shadow of a doubt that Dana White would never allow himself to lose the race. After all, this is a man who has spoken at multiple Trump Republican National Conventions, who has repeatedly decried that following COVID regulations are for “pussies,” and has never once over the previous year been sighted wearing a mask.
White has tried and failed numerous times over the last year to run in front of a full crowd, only to be foiled by state regulations and disapproval from ESPN. But the UFC president will finally get his way next month, even as the country still remains very much in the grip of a once-in-a-century pandemic, and one of his top rising stars is battling for his career due to a severe COVID-19 illness.
Professional fighters put their bodies and brains on the line in a way few other athletes can match. Meanwhile, the UFC’s explosion in popularity and rights deal with ESPN has ensured guaranteed revenue the likes of which the organization has never seen before. Despite that, UFC fighters get a smaller share of the pie than any professional athletes, anywhere.
In most professional sports organizations, athletes and owners share about a 50-50 revenue split. In the UFC, the fighters receive less than 20 percent. Many fighters have to maintain a day job in between training – Joaquin Buckley famously had to go back to work at Walgreens after scoring 2020’s viral knockout of the year. Fighters still compete for the same piddly bonus pool they were fighting over 15 years ago, only without the ability to sell sponsorships on their gear. And God forbid, if something happens and you can’t fight, you’re shit out of luck.
“Something,” like, for instance, a global pandemic that has sickened tens of millions of people. Dozens of UFC fighters have come down with COVID-19 over the last year – the proof is in the many, many fights that have been canceled, postponed or fizzled out since the pandemic started – and many MMA figures have had very rough experiences. Rising light heavyweight prospect Jamahal Hill just last week spoke about coughing up blood during his recent battle with the virus, and former bantamweight champion Cody Garbrandt has also detailed his difficult recovery. COVID-19 claimed the life of Abdulmanap Nurmagomedov, the legendary trainer and father of lightweight champion Khabib Nurmagomedov, as well as several high-profile past fighters, including early UFC contender Paul Varelans.
UFC fighters are paid to show and to win – if you’re not fighting, you’re not making money. Fighters are classified as independent contractors and don’t have health insurance. If you get COVID, good luck. But, of course, Dana White has always had his favorites. And if you’re a fighter that White sees money in, things will always work differently.
Dana White plays favorites more shamelessly than almost any promoter in combat sports history. If you catch his eye, you will get opportunities that your peers can only dream of. And it became obvious, very quickly, that Khamzat Chimaev became one of his new favorites last year.
A native of Chechnya who fights out of Sweden, Chimaev was one of the top MMA prospects in Europe when he signed with the UFC last year, mixing dominating wrestling and physical strength with surprising one-punch pop. He arrived on the scene in incredibly explosive fashion. Chimaev debuted as a middleweight in July, completely dominating John Phillips in a second-round submission win. Ten days later, he came back and destroyed Rhys McKee at welterweight, breaking the modern era record for quickest turnaround between UFC wins. Two months after that, he blasted veteran Gerald Meerschaert unconscious with the first punch of the fight.
Chimaev instantly captured the imagination of the UFC fanbase, and the attention of White. Despite not having beaten anyone close to contention, Chimaev was booked in a fight with Leon Edwards, one of the world’s most elite welterweights. Chimaev was spotted palling around with White during fight cards. He was setting a record for the UFC super-push speedrun – then, 2020 intervened.
The Chimaev-Edwards fight never happened, and perhaps never will. Within days of each other, both men tested positive for COVID-19. Edwards recovered relatively painlessly, and was in the cage by March. Chimaev, on the other hand, has been wrecked by the virus. So much so that, earlier this month, Chimaev announced his retirement from the sport on social media, accompanying pictures of what appeared to be blood in his sink.
Chimaev’s COVID story has been much different from almost anyone else’s in the UFC. For one, he’s had one of the most severe battles with the virus that we know about – months after testing positive, he’s still unable to train, and still suffering serious respiratory issues. But unlike every other fighter to battle COVID over the last year, Chimaev has had care directly facilitated by the UFC itself: last month, White had Chimaev flown into Las Vegas so the UFC could oversee his recovery.
Things haven’t gotten easier for Chimaev all the same. But it was extremely telling how, when he announced his retirement, White took immediate pains to dismiss the idea that his new cash cow could be on the way out. According to White, Chimaev was simply emotional after being unable to train, since he’s a “savage” who wants to fight “like every fucking weekend.” There was obviously some communication between the two parties afterward: Chimaev later deleted the posts relating to his short-lived retirement, and by last week he was calling out Neil Magny on Instagram.
Chimaev does not have a fight booked, and there has been no indication that he will have one booked any time in the near future. In February, manager Ali Abdelaziz said he hoped Chimaev could get back in the ring by June – that was before the whole retirement hullabaloo. And despite all the drama surrounding one of his brightest young star’s illness, Dana White has continued to make a mockery of COVID safety.
The story of Khamzat Chimaev is the story of the UFC’s moral rot. While most of his fighters have to struggle on their own if they come down with COVID, Chimaev has been granted top-quality medical care on the company’s dime because White sees him as a potential draw. White has also been unable to let Chimaev go despite his health issues and mental anguish – it reminds you somewhat of his ridiculous, pathetic denial that Khabib Nurmagomedov is actually retired. All this goes on while the rest of his fighters struggle to make ends meet, and live in a world where a similar illness to Chimaev’s could ruin their lives.
None of this is meant to disparage Khamzat Chimaev, an excellent talent and a man who hasn’t done anything wrong. There’s no one who doesn’t want to see him back in the cage, fulfilling his huge potential. The entire MMA world hopes he recovers fully, and he deserves no blame for accepting the UFC’s help. Why wouldn’t he? But the UFC could easily afford to give the same care to every single fighter dealing with COVID, to say nothing of giving its fighters health insurance, and to say even less of the fighters’ ridiculous (and legally challengeable) classification as independent contractors.
But in a world where the UFC president openly boasts about gambling millions of dollars on boxing matches while his fighters work at Walgreens, there are two classes of mixed martial artists. Not champions and challengers – there are fighters that Dana White likes, and everyone else. Until a fighter’s union happens, or until White finally exits, that will not change. All of these are things we already knew. But Khamzat Chimaev’s story, from his first fight up until this moment, encapsulates all of the UFC’s worst.
The Big Fight 