Win or Learn: MMA, Conor McGregor and Me: A Trainer's Journey

by John Kavanagh

  We scheduled the grand opening for Saturday, 11 January 2014. When the work on the new gym was completed, it had a reception area, a coffee dock, an MMA shop, a competition-sized octagon, a boxing ring, changing rooms, consultation and physiotherapy rooms, offices, and separate areas for grappling and striking. I was delighted with how it looked. Of course, I’m biased, but my initial feeling was that it would be difficult to find a better facility anywhere in the world. Now I just needed to pay for it.

  Conor came back from the States for the opening, which certainly helped to drum up some publicity. I wanted him to stay in LA to continue his recovery, but he insisted on being there for such an important occasion for SBG Ireland. It was a mark of his quality as a man, because this was at a critical stage in his rehab. I was anticipating that about a hundred people might show up on the day, but with all my top professional fighters present, 1,500 people came through the doors. Even looking back now, I still can’t believe we had attracted such a big crowd. It wasn’t so long ago that we couldn’t even draw that many people to the guys’ fights, let alone the opening of a gym. The place was absolutely packed, with people of all ages. The day was yet another indication of how rapidly MMA was growing in Ireland.

  On opening weekend alone, our membership numbers doubled. That meant that I had already covered the increased expenses that came with the move. I was very relieved because there really was no Plan B if things went tits-up. The team’s profile was still exploding, but there was no guarantee of that continuing. What if Conor’s comeback failed? I knew the bubble could very easily burst. But that first weekend removed so much of the financial burden from my shoulders. I was confident then that we would continue to bring in new members, because the word quickly got around that this was a world-class facility that catered for all levels. It was early days yet, but it felt like the gamble was about to pay off. Later that year I received a letter from the bank confirming that my loan was finally cleared. It was one of the most satisfying moments of my life. I’ll never forget it. I still can’t help but smile now when I think of it.

  Following the move to the Naas Road, the increasing membership numbers allowed me to make some adjustments to how the gym operated. We introduced a consultation process and foundation programmes for beginners. This was geared towards anyone who was curious about taking up martial arts but also a bit intimidated by it. It was important to let people know that if they joined SBG, they could learn from scratch at their own pace. They weren’t going to be thrown in for a sparring session with Conor McGregor on their first day.

  It’s quite a small percentage of SBG members who actually train to compete. Many people come to us because they want to lose weight or improve their general health and lifestyle. Hearing their success stories is just as satisfying for me as any big UFC win for one of my fighters. To see somebody who has turned their life around as a result of joining SBG means the world to me. More often than not, they’ve never even set foot in a cage or entered a competition.

  This approach also made the gym a friendly place for kids. We call them the ‘Growing Gorillas’. Given my own history of being bullied and unable to defend myself as a child, that had been a priority for me for a long time. I regularly meet parents who are worried about their child being bullied. Owen Roddy is fantastic in that regard. He has ‘mat chats’ with the kids in his classes and explains to them how best to handle those situations, encouraging them to get a teacher involved and let their parents know what’s going on. But he also teaches them how to respond if they’re being physically attacked in the schoolyard. Bullies are like predatory animals. They can sense when somebody is, or is not, going to be an easy target. We aim to make sure that our kids stand tall and exude confidence. If there’s a rumour around their school that they’re training in the same gym as Conor McGregor, all of a sudden they’re not such an easy target. So the bullies move on to something else. Nobody wants to jump on a guy walking down the street with a gym bag over his shoulder.

  As the gym began to flourish, one concern I had was that it was becoming increasingly difficult to retain the feeling that SBG was like a little family. Sadly, it took a dreadful tragedy to remind us all of the importance of sticking together.

  Kamil Rutkowski was a key figure at Straight Blast Gym. He had come to Ireland from Poland and joined SBG shortly after we moved to the Long Mile Road. You couldn’t have met a happier, friendlier, more helpful person than Kamil, and there wasn’t a more popular guy at the gym. He very quickly developed into an outstanding Brazilian jiu-jitsu practitioner, and by the time we relocated to the Naas Road he was a brilliant coach and one of my most trusted friends.

  A few months after we were up and running on the Naas Road, in April 2014, Kamil and I were the last two people left in the gym one evening. As we were preparing to close up and go home, Kamil came into my office and asked if we could have a chat. He had seemed slightly out of sorts for a few days, so this didn’t surprise me. I could see that there was something on his mind.

  When he sat down and spoke, Kamil didn’t seem like himself at all. He was acting very strangely. He appeared angry and agitated. I had never seen him like that before. He rambled on for a while about some minor issues in the gym. It was all a bit bizarre. None of what he was saying made any sense. Then he claimed that some people at the gym – including myself – had been talking about him behind his back. There was no substance to that whatsoever, because there wasn’t a more liked and respected guy at SBG than Kamil. The conversation actually became quite tense, and I was worried that he was going to lunge over the desk at me, but I insisted to him that none of what he was saying was true and that he had nothing to worry about.

  I was very concerned about Kamil when I got home that night. Our talk was just so out of character for him. I got in touch with a few of the other coaches and they agreed that his recent behaviour was cause for concern. We decided that we would contact Professor Dan Healy, a neurologist at Beaumont Hospital who is SBG’s team doctor, to speak to Kamil about his situation. Looking back, there had been a few signs that Kamil was struggling. On Facebook he had been posting a lot of pictures of himself alone, as well as other little things that didn’t reflect his usual bubbly personality. He had cut himself off from people in the gym who considered him a close friend. While it was hard to detect at the time, he was clearly suffering from depression.

  The morning after our conversation, Kamil came into the gym and taught his class at 6.30 a.m., as usual. He collected some fees, did a few other bits and pieces and then left in his car. By early afternoon we began to worry, as he had been gone for several hours and that was extremely uncommon. I called him but his phone was turned off. He wasn’t at home either. As dinnertime approached there was still no sign of Kamil, so we phoned the police.

  That night, at around 9 p.m., I was on the mats coaching a class when the word came through to the gym that Kamil had been found. But it wasn’t good news. A couple who were out for a walk in the Dublin mountains discovered him hanging from a tree. He was thirty-five.

  It’s hard to describe your feelings at a time like that. It’s not sadness. It’s not anger. It’s just emptiness. Nothing. For a while I just stood there, speechless. Then Kieran McGeeney pulled me away to one side. That’s when it hit me and a wave of emotion engulfed me. That night, my sister Ann and I stayed behind at the gym to give ourselves time to let the reality of what had happened sink in. But mostly we shared stories that reminded us of what a brilliant person Kamil was. Ann ran the reception at the gym, and Kamil always kept an eye out for her. She said he was like her guard dog. Kamil was a vital member of SBG and his passing left a massive hole.

  A couple of nights later we had a send-off for Kamil in the gym. Everybody came down. Some said a few words of remembrance. It was an emotional occasion, particularly for Kamil’s brother. We invited him down and I presented him with a BJJ black belt on Kamil’s behalf. We all raised some money to send Kamil’s body back to his family in Poland
. It also paid for the funeral. It was nice to be able to do that, because it took some of the pressure off his family at a very difficult time.

  We found afterwards that Kamil had been suffering from severe pain due to a back injury. The medication he had been prescribed for it didn’t mix well with the effects of depression, and that seems to have pushed Kamil beyond breaking point.

  To be completely honest, I knew absolutely nothing about depression. I’d had some tough times myself over the years, but never anything to that extent. Kamil’s death taught me that depression is a serious issue that shouldn’t be ignored or dismissed. It could happen to anybody. It was a lesson to us all at SBG and it encouraged others to open up if they had concerns over their mental health. As a result, the gym became a place where people felt comfortable speaking about those issues. They realized that it’s okay not to feel okay, but the first step should be to let those closest to you know. Don’t isolate yourself and keep it all bottled up. It raised our awareness of an important topic. Afterwards, others came forward too. Aisling Daly was one of them. She admitted to suffering from depression, something I had never been aware of. Ais has since spoken publicly about it, and doing so helped her deal with it.

  Conor McGregor was also affected by Kamil’s death. He wrote on Facebook:

  We all go through pain in life so please speak to each other and pay attention to another person’s feelings. Offer help and guidance. We are all one. Suicide is a problem that hits us all in life, please pay attention, your words are powerful to you and those around you. Use them to encourage. We all feel the same emotions as each other, good and bad, just at different times in our life. Awareness is everything. Our relationships with each other are worth more than anything else. They deserve all our time and focus. I feel sick to my stomach here. His life was the gym, his life was jiu-jitsu. I wish I just paid attention to him instead of talking about and worrying about my own meaningless shit. It all means nothing in the end. Absolutely nothing. What the fuck is money anyway when it drives people to unthinkable things?

  SBG subsequently became involved with Pieta House, a charity which helps people who are suicidal or self-harming, and we now take part in their Darkness Into Light event each year. We also have posters around the gym, reminding people to remain aware of depression and the fact that it can be a consequence of concussion.

  What happened to Kamil was horrendous, but nothing can be done about the past. What you can do is learn from it and do as much as you can to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. It’s important to extract some good from even the very worst situations, and Kamil’s death caused the team to become closer. The change of location and the increase in membership numbers had possibly resulted in a slight disconnect, but this brought us back together again. By the beginning of 2016, SBG Ireland had 700 members, yet it’s still a family – albeit an enormous one. There’s a support system there, so you know that if you’re having a rough time, you’ll have three or four people watching out for you.

  Kamil’s passing was the greatest loss SBG ever suffered, but it also gave us the most valuable lesson we ever learned.

  12

  Conor McGregor’s career in the UFC may have been on hold as a result of the ACL injury, but several of his teammates at SBG were getting closer to their own dreams of fighting for MMA’s premier organization. In 2013 Paddy Holohan, Cathal Pendred and Chris Fields all competed on The Ultimate Fighter – a reality TV show geared towards unearthing new fighters for the UFC.

  Cathal, in particular, saw it as one last shot at earning a UFC contract. In my view, he should never have had to rely on The Ultimate Fighter to get into the UFC. He had already proved that he was worthy of a place on the roster by beating several of the best welterweights in Europe en route to becoming the Cage Warriors champion. I lost count of how many times I contacted the UFC about giving Cathal a shot, but the answer was the same every time: He needs to start finishing his opponents in order to be considered.

  That was Cathal’s problem. While he was winning his fights comprehensively, he was mostly doing so via decision instead of knockout or submission. Even though his record was good, that aspect of it went against him because the UFC ideally like to see exciting stoppages.

  Cathal joined SBG late in 2008, not long after we had moved to the Long Mile Road. He was a novice at the time because he had only recently taken up mixed martial arts, never having trained in the sport before. He was actually a pretty promising rugby player, winning a Leinster Schools Senior Cup medal with Belvedere College alongside guys like Cian Healy and Ian Keatley, who went on to play for Ireland.

  Because he was only starting out, Cathal needed a lot of work, but he certainly had the right attitude. He was incredibly keen to learn and improve. Aware of the fact that his opponents generally had a head start on him when it came to skill and technique, Cathal knew that he needed to level the playing field by working harder than them and wanting it more. And nobody wanted it more than Cathal. Just a few weeks after joining the gym, he took a fight. He was a learn-on-the-job type of guy. He threw himself in at the deep end and defied his lack of an extensive background in MMA by displaying remarkable resolve to grind out results. After every win, Cathal told me the same thing.

  ‘I want to fight someone better next time. Get me the best opponent you can find. I want to be fighting the top guys in the world in the UFC as soon as possible.’

  It quickly became evident that Cathal was a pretty special guy. I used to call him the Billy Goat. You could leave him on a mountainside for a few weeks, eating nothing but grass, but he’d still be thriving when you came back. He had the kind of mindset that meant he always got by, regardless of the circumstances. Toughness is probably a prerequisite when you earn a living by fighting men in a cage, but Cathal brought new meaning to the word. He was absolutely bulletproof. Before he fought Danny Mitchell in Jordan, he did eight hours in the sauna – without a break – to make weight. I’ve seen guys break and end up in tears after eight minutes in a sauna, let alone hours. That’s Cathal Pendred. Whatever had to be done to succeed, Cathal did it. In terms of his mentality, he’s absolutely unique. I doubt I’ll ever coach somebody like him again.

  During one of his earliest fights, I came into the cage at the end of the first round and Cathal was on his hands and knees, searching for something on the mat.

  ‘Cathal,’ I said, ‘what the hell are you doing? Get over here and sit down!’

  ‘Sorry, coach,’ he responded. ‘I’m just looking for my teeth.’

  Cathal had picked up many big wins before he competed on The Ultimate Fighter in 2013, but the fight that stands out for me when I look at his career was the one against David Bielkheden at Cage Warriors 47 in June 2012. It was probably overshadowed by the fact that Conor won the featherweight title later in the evening, but Cathal’s bout with Bielkheden was absolutely incredible – one of the best MMA fights ever to take place on Irish soil.

  When you looked at the respective credentials of the two guys, the fight probably shouldn’t even have been allowed to happen. It seemed like a total mismatch on first inspection. Bielkheden was a Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt who had been fighting professionally for over ten years. He had already competed for the biggest organizations in the world. Cathal was fourteen when Bielkheden made his MMA debut. When Bielkheden moved to the UFC, Cathal had yet to walk through the doors of SBG. Weighing all of that up, this was a fight in which Cathal shouldn’t have stood a chance. But that’s what Cathal had been told on countless occasions before. He may have been a newcomer to MMA, but as soon as he started, Cathal never stopped. He was constantly in the gym. Although he didn’t have the years and years of training behind him that his opponents had, Cathal’s heart and determination were attributes they could never match.

  Within the first minute of the fight, Cathal almost knocked Bielkheden out with an uppercut. That set the tone for a memorable performance from Cathal. He dominated the first two rounds and showed a gritt
y resilience in the third and final round to withstand a desperate comeback from Bielkheden. The win was undoubtedly his biggest yet and it was a statement that he was capable of going all the way. When we decided to accept the fight against Bielkheden, we knew that this would determine whether Cathal had what it took to compete with fighters at the highest level, or if he was destined to be confined to the regional circuit. He delivered an emphatic response to that question. After that, there was never any doubt in my mind about what Cathal could achieve. If his work ethic had already paved the way for him to defeat guys who had been fighting at the highest level since before he had ever even thrown a punch, there was going to be no stopping him from realizing his dreams now.

  One of the striking things about the win against David Bielkheden was that it took place at the Helix arena on the Dublin City University campus – where Cathal had been doing his exams just a couple of weeks earlier. In the build-up to the fight, he’d come into the gym very early in the morning to train, dash off for the day to do exams and then come back in the evening and train until the gym closed. Cathal later graduated with a degree in Analytical Science. Whenever any of the guys in the gym would complain about finding the time to train, I’d just point at Cathal and tell them to stop moaning.

  Within a year, Cathal was the Cage Warriors champion and had cleared out the entire welterweight division. He was itching for a chance to fight in the UFC, but the call just didn’t look like it was going to come. That’s when an opportunity arose with another big organization in the US called World Series of Fighting. They were offering Cathal $10,000 to fight and another $10,000 to win. That was life-changing money for him, and approximately ten times what he was earning with Cage Warriors. However, the problem was that a clause in his Cage Warriors contract allowed him to leave for the UFC but for no other organization. Reluctant to lose one of their biggest stars, Cage Warriors wouldn’t budge on the contract. It was a frustrating situation because Cathal, who was about to turn twenty-six, was at a stage where he needed to start earning money from fighting. He had graduated with a degree and there was pressure on him to use it – similar to the situation I was in all those years ago. There was a chance here for him to finally make a good living from the sport he had been pouring his heart and soul into for the past few years, but a line in a contract was preventing him from taking it.