It's Time!, Page 8

  I give him tremendous credit. He was fighting as hard as he could, but he was on the verge of losing every dollar he ever made in those years, trying to bail out a sinking ship and fighting battles in court that maybe could have been avoided with better planning. The people Robert had working for him toward the end deserve a lot of credit as well. They did what they could to keep the UFC, but the handwriting was on the wall.

  It was doubly frustrating for me because I had a business background. As I was watching their slow demise, I thought I could try to offer my services. But it wasn’t appropriate for me, an employee, to offer my expertise in that area. Instead I used whatever contacts I had to get the sport noticed by the media. I discovered that because of the McCain ruckus, the media wanted to cover UFC for all the wrong reasons. They were only interested in scandals. I can admit now that I did think about getting a financier to buy the UFC, but that never got off the ground.

  During that time I received a call from a New Jersey–based boxing promoter named Gary Shaw, who wanted to meet with Meyrowitz before a show being held in New Jersey, to discuss possibly buying the UFC. The morning of our scheduled meeting, Shaw called me to cancel, and looking back, I am so happy he did.

  In later years Gary Shaw entered the world of MMA in a big way with a fight organization known as EliteXC, owned by ProElite. Shaw was their “Live Events President” and worked to get fights on network TV. ProElite promoted a backyard street fighter and YouTube sensation named Kimbo Slice in a series of fights that hurt the sport, setting it back years. Kimbo wasn’t ready, and his non-MMA skills were exposed on national TV when he was KO’d in fourteen seconds by a last-minute, lower-weight opponent named Seth Petruzelli, who had stepped in as a replacement for Ken Shamrock. Before that fight, the promoters had allegedly paired Kimbo with fighters he could beat. Had they fought, Ken Shamrock would have taken Kimbo to the ground and ended the fight quickly. After the fight, Seth Petruzelli revealed that he was told not to take it to the ground, although he later retracted the statement, and an investigation by Florida state authorities found no evidence of wrongdoing by the promoters. Still, numerous commentators wondered if it was a “work,” or predetermined fight, and the controversy could have seriously damaged the credibility of the sport.

  Understand, I have nothing against Kimbo. He fights to support his mom and his family, and he has always been polite to me. My issue is with the powers that be who hyped Kimbo to the world as a man who had the skills to compete with the best of the MMA fighters. In my opinion, this just wasn’t true. He was a street fighter with boxing skills, but his range of MMA skills were not comparable to those of a B– or even C–level MMA artist. But so many people who should have known better fell for the hype, including ESPN magazine, which featured him on their cover.

  When ProElite went out of business, I thought to myself, I told you so …

  But still, the UFC was hurting, and a savior was desperately needed. And one day, that savior appeared.

  Bob called me one night. “I have some good news and some bad news,” he said. “The bad news is, I’m selling the UFC. The good news is, I sold it to Dana White and the Fertitta brothers.”

  This was a huge, fascinating development, I knew Dana by reputation, of course. He was the savvy fight manager who’d shaped the careers of Tito Ortiz and Chuck Liddell, two of my favorite fighters. Lorenzo and Frank Fertitta were casino and entertainment entrepreneurs reportedly worth hundreds of millions of dollars. (They would later attain billionaire status, as certified by Forbes magazine.) They had the cash, and they couldn’t have snapped up the show at a better time. They reportedly paid a mere $2 million for it. Peanuts, really, when you think about what it became. They could negotiate well because the franchise was hurting so badly. If they had waited any longer, there wouldn’t have been anything left to buy.

  “Uh, Bruce?” Bob said.

  “Yes?”

  “A lot of people are going to be let go,” he said.

  Okaaaaaay, I thought.

  “But you and Big John are staying on. You should expect a call from Dana very soon.”

  I thanked him and put the phone down. I breathed a sigh of relief. The UFC would no doubt change, but it would survive.

  Now I just had to sit tight and wait for a call from my new boss.

  8

  WHITE KNIGHT

  It wasn’t until after the first couple of shows together that the organization flew me to Vegas to meet with Dana White one-on-one.

  My nerves were a little on edge going into that meeting.

  Just as Bob Meyrowitz had promised, Dana did me the courtesy of a short welcome phone call. To my surprise, Dana offered me a raise on that call because he knew from the books that I hadn’t had one since the beginning. I saw it as a gesture of faith and a thank-you for my loyalty. Dana had acquired a business that was near bankruptcy. He could easily have said that we all had to tighten our belts right now. But he didn’t. That was classy.

  And shortly after that call, he and Lorenzo treated John McCarthy, me, and others to a wonderful dinner in Vegas, where expensive wine flowed freely. Lorenzo and Dana exuded such confidence that night that I couldn’t help but swear my loyalty to them. “Whatever you need, whatever you want, just ask,” I told them. “If it’s in my power to do, it’ll get it done. No questions asked.”

  Despite Dana’s warmth toward his new employees, none of us in the organization knew what was in store for us. The first couple of shows we did after Zuffa’s buy were business as usual. But little by little we began to notice much more attention to detail on the part of upper management. I personally felt that I was being treated like a teammate, not an employee; UFC headquarters would check with us on a more regular basis before, during, and after each show.

  But now, meeting Dana one-on-one for a sit, was different. Like everyone in the UFC, I was wondering, What happens now?

  Today was my day to find out what Dana had in store for me.

  Was I worried when I walked into his office that I’d be walking out jobless? Yes and no. In the back of my mind was the thought, Hey, what if this goes south? What if this is my last visit to the UFC? I didn’t think they would have given me a raise and flown me out just to dispose of me. But still, I knew Dana was a strong-minded, tough individual. There was a chance we wouldn’t see eye-to-eye.

  I was grateful he thought enough of my work to want a face-to-face sit. To my relief, he didn’t beat around the bush. He was completely frank.

  “We’re going to do things my way,” he said, or words to that effect. There would be big changes, but in the end, the UFC would be the biggest thing in sports. He told me he had a dream, a vision, for how to make that happen.

  From the tone of his voice, you could not doubt him for a second.

  I was relieved to hear him say that, because obviously, if we were having this conversation, then I was still standing. And then it was time to talk about my announcing in the Octagon.

  He wanted to elevate the sport, to bring to it a level of class and stature that it had not yet attained. And that impacted how I was saying the words. He then launched into one of the most perceptive analyses of fight announcing I’ve ever heard. It was as if he were dissecting the way various announcers had executed their jobs over the years, and he had strong opinions about what he liked and didn’t like—what worked, what didn’t. Among other things, he thought at times I’d gotten too wordy.

  “There were two introductions I thought were the best I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Your brother Michael introducing Evander Holyfield and Riddick Bowe in their first fight ever. I’ll never forget that night. He was amazing. The other? The night you introduced Tito Ortiz and Evan Tanner. If you can, I’d like you to keep the tempo the way you announced that fight that night.”

  It wouldn’t be hard for me to get on board with that. The fight had taken place only recently at the Trump Taj Mahal. It was UFC 30, the famous Battle on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City. Tito was amazing
that night. Defeated Tanner by knockout in something like thirty-two seconds.

  Now, I wasn’t exclusive to the UFC at the time, and they were okay with it. They understood that they couldn’t yet pay me enough not to do other gigs. I knew someday they would. When the time came, I wanted to be able to put the UFC logo on my chest like Superman’s S, and say to the world, This is who I am.

  And that was all the business Dana and I discussed. We spent the next hour or more having a nice, friendly lunch, talking about our love of sports.

  BUFFERISM NO. 8

  “TAKE ALL YOU WANT, BUT EAT ALL YOU TAKE.”

  My dad always used to say this about food, but it applies to almost anything. My parents grew up during the Great Depression. It taught them a lesson about waste of any kind. To take more than you need is greedy and wrong. Even to this day, I never let a crumb leave my plate. Whether it’s a meal or a path choice in life, once you make it and take it, you should finish it!

  At the time, the UFC still wasn’t paying my bills. Whenever possible I enjoyed doing smaller fights for smaller organizations, which almost always paid me more than the UFC at the time. Finally, starting in 2007, we negotiated an exclusive contract and I stopped doing other MMA bouts.

  Occasionally I’d also do cameo appearances as a fight announcer in various movies, such as Play It to the Bone, in which Michael also appeared, along with the film’s stars, Woody Harrelson and Antonio Banderas. I’d roll onto the set for a day or two, say my lines, pocket a fee. But now and then an offer came along that was just so beneath me and beneath the standards set by the UFC that I declined. Once I was offered a lot of money to appear in a B-list martial-arts film for one week’s work. Money aside, I didn’t feel it would be a good move for me to appear in a potentially cheesy film, so I declined the offer.

  I can honestly say that I’ve never had a problem with Dana in the decade we’ve been working together. In fact, the only problem is that he’s incredibly busy and it’s hard to set up one-on-one time to talk with him. He’s jetting around the world, building the sport and making deals.

  But the more I’ve watched the organization flourish, the more I realize Dana really hasn’t altered his vision from the day we met, when this young man just into his thirties had an idea about how he was going to refloat a sinking ship. Everything he and the Fertitta brothers have done since then has been unerringly savvy.

  The biggest thing, I’d say, is that he knew exactly how to tap into the enthusiasm of the fans. Compared with how other sports connect with fans, the UFC beats them every single time. Unlike the bosses who run various sports franchises, Dana comes off as a living, breathing human being, an authentic fan in his own right. He comes out before many shows at the weigh-ins and does a Q&A with the fighters and the fans. He answers their questions, some of which can be redundant. Yet he shows uncommon patience because he knows today’s UFC neophyte is tomorrow’s diehard. The teens who fall in love with the sport today will introduce their children to it a decade from now. Go to the weigh-ins, if you can, and watch his interactions. Then come and tell me if you’ve ever seen such face-to-face from any promoter of any other sport, especially boxing.

  He’s harnessed the power of social media—a thing that was barely alive when we first met in his office in Vegas—like a pro, and urged the fighters to do the same. He Tweets before bouts and tells fans where they can score tickets. “Meet me here at this time and this place,” he says, “and we can make it happen.” Or “I left two tickets at the 7-Eleven at this address. First person in gets them.” That’s fun—and smart.

  “Can I take a picture with Chael Sonnen?” a fan asks.

  “Sure,” Dana says. “Come on down!”

  UFC’s critics cannot tell me that this kind of thing goes on elsewhere.

  It doesn’t happen in boxing.

  It doesn’t happen in baseball.

  It doesn’t happen in hockey.

  It doesn’t happen in football.

  You see it only in the UFC.

  Dana was a genius at this. He somehow grasped that the sport had to move light-years in order to catch up to other sports. So the UFC had to innovate. And now they’re beating other sports at accessibility, openness, and transparency.

  10 REASONS UFC IS CHOKING OUT BOXING IN THE U.S.A.

  1. Dana F****ing White. Enough said.

  2. Twice the pain in half the time.

  3. Good seats don’t mean you have to rent a tux.

  4. In the UFC, the best fight the best.

  5. Their fighters only have two weapons. Our fighters have twenty-plus—and elbows.

  6. Joe Rogan: best commentator since Howard Cosell.

  7. Did I mention Octagon girls?

  8. Which sounds cooler: “left hook” or “rear naked choke”?

  9. Hitting the mat means things are just getting started.

  10. Fighters who aren’t afraid to Tweet.

  Now, sure, Dana’s not a guy you want to mess with. The way I figure Dana, he’s a guy with a code. You work with him on his terms, and if you try to push him, he shuts you down. Look at what happened when Miguel Torres made a rape joke on Twitter. Dana tossed him out of the UFC, although he later relented and hired him back. The lesson there was yes, it’s important for fighters to market themselves via Twitter, but they’d better say the right thing.

  Look at what happened with Fedor. Dana fought long and hard, several times, to sign Fedor Emelianenko. When Affliction collapsed and Fedor was a free agent, Dana tried again. The UFC offered the Ukrainian monster a contract worth—so I’ve heard—$20 million or more to fight for the UFC. At the time, Fedor had it all going on. He was undefeated for a decade, with more than twenty-five wins under his belt. In my opinion, the UFC was the next logical step for him. Correction: it had been the next logical step for him for a long time now, but he and his managers never saw it. They never got along with Dana, and told the press they didn’t care for his tactics or comments. So what happened? Fedor went with Strikeforce and into an embarrassing trio of losses. The luster was gone and Fedor retired. It’s easy to criticize in hindsight, but maybe Fedor would have shone a little brighter for a little while longer under Dana and the UFC’s tutelage.

  Or look how fast Dana cut Jason “Mayhem” Miller loose after UFC 146 in May 2012. Mayhem showed up to the weigh-ins in Vegas dressed in sunglasses, a pink feather boa, and pink shorts, sporting a new hairdo and carrying a pink boom box. He looked like a clown. The night of the fight he got into an argument backstage with UFC site coordinator Burt Watson, who objected to Mayhem’s new outfit, which included a paper bag/gas mask getup he was supposedly going to wear with his camo shorts in a misguided attempt to celebrate Memorial Day. Insane.

  I like Mayhem. We’ve hung out a few times. I remember being with him on Sydney, Australia’s, famous Bondi Beach, where I watched him charm the ladies. The guy’s got game.

  But UFC 146 was nuts. He went out and lost to C. B. Dollaway, and Dana came out to the press conference after the fight and announced Mayhem was done. Just like that. Yeah, I feel bad for Jason. But he should have shown up serious and fight-ready that night, with little fanfare, since he’d just turned in an extremely poor performance at the TUF 14 Finale and was completely overpowered by Michael Bisping.

  Then there was that time in 2007 when Dana was going to fight Tito Ortiz in a boxing match. People may have thought it was a stunt, but the two had actually sparred together when Dana was still managing Tito. Dana trained for it like crazy. I think he was eating twelve eggs a day and pushing himself to the limit, and dieting all the while he was running the UFC. It looked like it was going to happen, too. But then it was called off at the last minute when Tito didn’t show up at the weigh-in. He later told the press that he thought he should get a producer’s credit for putting the fight together. It might have been an interesting fight, by the way, but from my perspective, it was lose/lose all the way around. If Tito had beaten Dana, the world would have said, well, sure, Tito’s a
fighter anyway. And if Dana had beaten Tito, how would that have looked for Tito’s image and his marketing potential in the UFC going forward? That’s why I’m actually kind of glad the fight never happened.

  There’s only one time I can remember when I had to ask Dana to do me a favor. Early in 2008, my brother Michael was diagnosed with throat cancer. He was going under the knife and asked me to fill in for him in an HBO bout. I pulled Dana aside at a weigh-in and asked if he was okay with this. Technically, my contract permitted me to do boxing, but I wanted to make sure Dana was completely fine with it, and he was.

  And that’s how the Casamayor-Katsidis Boxing Event at the Morongo Casino in California became the first and last full HBO show I have ever done (although I did announce a number of HBO boxing undercards between 2003 and 2007). I was happy to do Michael that favor, and honored that HBO permitted me to do that fight. Consummate pro that he is, Michael had the cancer removed and was back to work five weeks later.

  I was glad, too, that Dana gave me the thumbs-up.

  It’s what you do for family.

  9

  PATH TO GLORY

  Now, I would hate to give the impression that it was all easy street for Zuffa when they took over the organization. They were still hampered by a lack of visibility. The fans knew they existed, but that often is not enough. To grow a sport, you have to have a home, a base of operations where people can discover you again and again. Think of how much baseball, football, and basketball dominate TV programming during their respective seasons. There was no fixed season for taking a man’s head off in a steel cage. So Zuffa had to invent it.

  From the moment they took over, it was obvious that we were well backed and financially solvent. At the same time, we were also getting back to basics. Dana got rid of the fancy entrance ramp to the Octagon and got us back to having fighters enter directly from the back without the needless pyrotechnics and WWE-type grandeur. It was as if the company was saying that the proof was in the fighting. The new entrances were simpler, more stately, and way more dramatic when mixed with the overall production quality.