Let’s Get It On! (36 page)

On September 30, 2000, the NJSACB regulated its first MMA event on a trial basis under the leadership of Commissioner Larry Hazzard Sr., a former Golden Gloves boxing champion and accomplished Hall of Fame boxing referee. Six MMA bouts were approved at the International Fighting Championships (IFC) event that night, but the one that really caught Hazzard’s eye was a heavyweight contest between the six-feet-ten Gan McGee and a Canadian kickboxer with limited ground experience, Brad Gabriel. McGee, who’d trained with Chuck Liddell in California, took the bout to the ground and repeatedly slammed his knee into a turtled Gabriel’s head until the referee called the bout. It was a type of attack that had long been admissible in MMA bouts, but Hazzard had a real issue with it.

When Meyrowitz approached the New Jersey board to hold three UFC events at the Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City beginning that November, Hazzard said he would allow the events to take place during a probationary period under the two conditions that knees to a downed opponent’s head were made illegal and that the regulatory agency would continue to observe the sport at the next three shows. It seemed a small price to pay to get the UFC into a state as influential as New Jersey, so Meyrowitz agreed.

As a small window began to open in New Jersey, SEG also banged on the doors of Nevada, specifically Las Vegas. Sin City was the crowned jewel for combat sports. Boxing events regularly pulled in live gates in the double-digit million-dollar range.

As he had in New York four years earlier, Meyrowitz hired a lobbyist, Sig Rogich, to champion the sport with the Nevada State Athletic Commission and push regulation through. Right around UFC 28, SEG got word that a proposal for mixed martial arts’ regulation in Nevada had been scheduled for the athletic commission’s next meeting. Lorenzo Fertitta and Glenn Carano along with three additional commissioners would vote on the proposal; SEG needed the support of three.

I was flown to Las Vegas to answer any questions the commissioners had about the sport. SEG and the lobbyist figured Fertitta would support the sport because he’d now become John Lewis’ jiu-jitsu student. They thought Glenn Carano would vote against it and two other commissioners would split with their votes. The fifth was a veterinarian who wasn’t particularly familiar with the sport, so I was sent to meet him. With the swing vote in the balance, I did my best to persuade him to give MMA a chance, talking up its safety points, but he didn’t seem to care either way.

Meyrowitz met me in Las Vegas a day before the vote. The lobbyist, who was relaying updates, said we had the three votes and would get the sport passed. However, later that night, he called back to say something had changed. One commissioner had changed his mind and was going to vote the proposal down. Since it would be difficult to get this proposal budgeted again in a timely fashion, the lobbyist encouraged Meyrowitz to pull it from the table so they could regroup. Meyrowitz listened to the lobbyist’s advice, and MMA never went to a vote the next day.

It was one in a long line of disappointing developments, but we still had the shows in New Jersey and the opportunity to convince its officials to regulate MMA. We all had to stay focused.

UFC 28 “High Stakes” was held on November 17, 2000, at the 5,000-seat Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City, New Jersey. It didn’t sell out, but it was quite a good show if I do say so myself. The UFC had negotiated the return of Randy Couture in a heavyweight title bout against champion Kevin Randleman, and Couture out-wrestled and ground-and-pounded him en route to a third-round stoppage. Just fifteen seconds into their lightweight bout, Jens Pulver knocked out John Lewis with a blistering left hand that broke Lewis’ jaw. And Mark Hughes, the brother of future UFC welterweight champion Matt Hughes, made his one and only appearance in the Octagon with a unanimous decision victory over Alex Stiebling.

Of course, I’ll never forget a mistake I made in one of the other heavyweight bouts that night. Belarusian Andrei Arlovski grabbed the cage and was able to change his direction when opponent Aaron Brink went to take him down. Arlovski, a sambo expert, quickly found the armbar, and Brink tapped out. All of this happened in just fifty-four seconds. After reviewing it, I realized I should’ve stopped the bout after the takedown and restarted the fighters on their feet, but I hadn’t reacted quickly enough.

UFC 29 would be the promotion’s last trip to Japan, though we didn’t know it at the time. “Defense of the Belts” was held on December 16, 2000, at the Differ Ariake Arena in Tokyo. The arena had only 1,246 seats, so it seemed like a waste of money, but SEG was there to satisfy the contract with its Japanese copromoter.

Tito Ortiz made his first successful title defense against rising local star Yuki Kondo, who knocked Ortiz on his backside with a rarely seen flying knee. Pat Miletich defended his lightweight title against Kenichi Yamamoto as well.

However, it wasn’t a banner event overall by any stretch.

Before the bouts, I sat in an empty chair next to Dana White, who managed Ortiz and Chuck Liddell. Earlier that night, Liddell had fought and beaten Jeff Monson in a light heavyweight match that had been scheduled for the previous UFC.

Though we’d never really talked, I’d met White a few shows prior and my only impression had been that he was driven. I’d been told he was trying to get Ortiz more money and was playing hardball with Meyrowitz. I knew the figure White was asking for and that he wouldn’t get it because SEG couldn’t afford it.

This night, White asked if I had plans after the show and if I wanted to go out to eat with him and Lorenzo Fertitta. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but lo and behold, there was Fertitta sitting in the first row.

I was curious. Why would Fertitta, a Nevada commissioner, take in another UFC event, especially one in Japan? I agreed to meet them for dinner.

At first, I didn’t get the connection between White the manager and Fertitta the commissioner. Though I didn’t know it, they’d been high school friends. Both Fertitta and White had been studying jiu-jitsu with John Lewis in Las Vegas.

White seemed to defer a lot to Fertitta during our conversation, and he made it clear that Fertitta was his wealthy friend. The two asked me a slew of questions about the UFC, about its history and journey through politically infested waters over the last seven years. What mistakes had Meyrowitz made with the UFC? What had gone well? Who were the good fighters? Why were they leaving for Pride?

I told them that Pride had the money and that there were significant differences between MMA in the United States and in Japan, especially in the way the public viewed the sport and the type of bouts they clamored for. Japan’s culture blurred the line between pro wrestling and MMA, and mismatches happened all the time. Pride, with the majority of top fighters and the bigger audiences, was the number one promotion in the world.

Trying to help the promotion, I mentioned to Fertitta and White that I’d heard Meyrowitz, awash in debt with the UFC, was looking to take on a business partner. Fertitta and White thanked me for the tip. The rest of the night, Fertitta and White never ran out of questions about the ailing business.

I didn’t put two and two together until I ran into Fertitta and White again the next day at the airport. We were booked on the same flight to the United States, and as we sat in the terminal I caught a glimpse of some paperwork. Suddenly, all these little clues added up.

When I got home, I dialed Meyrowitz’s number. “Bob, are you selling the UFC?”

There was a dramatic pause.

“Yes, but you can’t tell anybody yet.”

A McCarthy family vacation in Lake Powell, Utah (1999)