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

by John Kavanagh

  On her full UFC debut, in Vegas on 12 December 2014, she submitted Alex Chambers with an armbar in the first round. The win was overshadowed a bit by the fact that she failed to make weight. That was a first for SBG in the UFC, and hopefully we won’t see it happen again. But the win was a special moment for Ais, who had finally got the chance to perform on the biggest stage.

  While Ais was becoming the latest SBG fighter to win in the UFC, Conor was busy preparing for his next fight. We were maybe a little disappointed not to have been offered a bigger name than Dennis Siver, but we’d never turned down a fight yet, and we weren’t going to start now. As we had been saying all along, the opponents didn’t matter. Each of these guys was just another minor obstacle between Conor and the champion, José Aldo. I believed he was already too good for them all, so it didn’t make much difference who he fought. Conor could beat them, regardless of their name, record, attributes or anything else.

  After the win against Dustin Poirier, we felt Conor had done enough to earn a shot at the featherweight title. The UFC didn’t necessarily disagree, but the problem was that Aldo was already scheduled to defend the belt against Chad Mendes, four weeks after the Poirier fight. If Aldo won, which we fully expected him to, there would likely be a long gap before his next title defence, because he wasn’t renowned for staying active. During his three and a half years in the UFC, Aldo had fought just six times. Conor had already spent enough time out of action owing to his knee injury, so he had no interest in sitting out and waiting to see what happened. He wanted to go again – ideally before the end of 2014 – and harassed the UFC about arranging another fight. There were no openings for him to compete again before the end of the year, but with an event scheduled for Boston on 18 January 2015, who better to headline in the home of Irish America than Conor McGregor? He had moved up to fifth in the featherweight rankings, while Dennis Siver was down in tenth. Sure, it would have been nice to fight one of the top contenders, but the reality was that in spite of what they said in interviews, very few of them put their hands up for the opportunity.

  Dennis Siver was a veteran of over thirty professional fights, and he had first joined the UFC way back in 2007. I knew quite a lot about him from his days of competing on the European circuit. In fact, Arni Isaksson had submitted him in the final of an eight-man Cage Warriors welterweight tournament in 2006. Siver had also only recently returned from being suspended for using performance-enhancing drugs – something Conor regularly reminded him of in the media during the build-up to the fight: ‘He’s a midget, German, steroid head.’

  I respected Dennis for his ability and experience, and while anything can happen on any given night, a short, stocky, thirty-six-year-old veteran wasn’t going to cause Conor any major headaches. I was sure of that.

  As Ireland gradually came to terms with its status as the home of the biggest male star in mixed martial arts, the amount of press coverage of the sport increased dramatically. It was a famine-to-feast journey in the space of less than two years, given that MMA had previously been completely ignored by major Irish media outlets.

  One consequence of the increased public interest in Ireland was to focus attention on the question of whether MMA is too violent. I took part in a few debates in the media and they usually seemed to follow the same pattern, with me putting forward the facts and the person on the opposing side stating an opinion along the lines of: ‘I just don’t like it.’ I had been having the same debate for years – with friends, family or anyone else who asked – ever since I first became involved in the sport. The difference now was that a lot more people were listening.

  The question of whether MMA is too violent ultimately comes down to definitions. Violence, to me, suggests an altercation in which one party doesn’t actually want to be involved. I don’t understand how that word can be used to describe a sporting contest – whether it’s MMA, boxing or something else – in which two consenting adults are participating willingly. In fact, I believe it’s quite an honourable thing for two individuals to agree to compete against one another under a specified set of rules, on a particular date, at an agreed weight, officiated by a referee and judges.

  In the run-up to the Siver fight, an Irish politician, Senator Catherine Noone, called for ‘this vile so-called sport’ to be banned in Ireland, while adding that she had never actually watched a fight. The senator quickly backed down, admitting that she had ‘jumped the gun’. Unfortunately, she received a lot of nasty verbal abuse from MMA fans as a result of her comments, which didn’t exactly help to improve the reputation of the sport and those involved in it. I’ve always found that the most effective way to change someone’s opinion for the better is to encourage them to attend an event or visit a gym. It gives them an opportunity to see at first hand that the individuals involved are just everyday people who enjoy competitive sport, not bloodthirsty savages. We invited Senator Noone to the gym and she took us up on the offer. Following her visit, far from calling for MMA to be banned, she was now calling for it to be recognized by the Irish Sports Council. She’s an extremely nice lady who made some ill-informed comments while speaking from a position of ignorance, but that soon changed when she had a chance to see what the sport is really about.

  I absolutely accept that MMA is not for everybody and I have no problem with that. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to watch it. We live in a free society where we’re fortunate enough to have a large variety of activities to choose from. If you dislike one of them, that’s not a justifiable reason for it to be banned. I find it odd that so many people are fascinated by seeing a little guy whipping a horse around a track, but I just turn over when horse racing is on TV and I don’t think any more about it. In terms of danger, statistically speaking, MMA falls around the same level as other contact sports. There is a perception that MMA is more dangerous than boxing, but a long-term Canadian study showed that boxers sustain more serious damage than MMA fighters. Competing in MMA, you end up shipping the same kind of bumps and bruises that you see in rugby, but the rate of serious injury is low.

  I’ve never fallen out with anybody over the MMA debate, but I was definitely red-faced from discussing it so often throughout my twenties. I tried to convert people to my way of thinking, like a vegan or a CrossFitter who’s so into what they’re doing that they constantly talk about it and can’t fathom how others aren’t equally passionate. I definitely went through periods when I’d call into radio shows and have heated back-and-forth arguments if the issue was up for discussion. I guess I’m a lot more mellow now.

  MMA has garnered an enormous number of new fans in Ireland and there’s an onus of responsibility on them to represent the sport well. In that regard, it’s important to acknowledge that without its most passionate fans, MMA might not have survived. In the dark ages of the early noughties, the UFC was struggling. It was the rabid fans on the internet forums who kept it alive by spreading the word to their friends and trying to convert anybody they could. The premiere of The Ultimate Fighter in 2005 marked the dawn of a new era, but the UFC – and by extension, the sport of MMA – probably wouldn’t have made it that far were it not for the fans and how much it meant to them. It’s always important to remember that. But at the same time, I do often cringe when I see the behaviour of some fans online, particularly when it comes to how cantankerous they become when defending the sport if it’s coming in for criticism. Instead of berating somebody because they don’t like MMA, fans should take a more positive approach by seeking to introduce them to it in an amicable manner. That’s the best way an MMA fan can fly the flag for the sport.

  If someone comes to SBG, they’ll probably see a kids’ jiu-jitsu class and meet intelligent people like Owen Roddy and Peter Queally. It’s no different from what you’ll find in any sporting environment. Of course, that’s not to say that there aren’t any dickheads involved in MMA. As in any sport, the law of averages dictates that there’ll be a few bad eggs.

  Obesity is a far greater concern
for society than the aggression involved in some sports. I once heard a former Gaelic football player, when asked if soccer was the enemy of his sport, respond that the only enemy is inactivity. The most important thing is to encourage kids to be physically active, whether it’s through martial arts, ball games, gymnastics or something else entirely.

  Growing up, I spent all day, every day, running around outside, but I never, ever remember being tired. Nowadays, during their first session in my gym, some kids are on their knees and out of breath after doing a lap or two of the mat. That’s worrying. Our children are becoming less and less mobile, and that’s going to put a massive strain on our health service in years to come, when it’s asked to care for a generation of people with weaker bones, more fat, little lean muscle and weakened immune systems. All these things are going to cause serious problems, so I’ll support any movement that gets kids active.

  Then there’s the fact that we now live in a society where everyone’s afraid of being sued. Councils are reluctant to build playgrounds for fear of being taken to court if a child is injured while using one. Kids fall and suffer bumps and bruises; sometimes they break bones. So what? It’s part of growing up. Inactivity is far more dangerous long term than a scratch on the knee.

  I’m sometimes asked if I’d like to see any changes made to the rules of MMA in order to make it more palatable to a wider audience, but the answer to that is always an emphatic no. What I would like to see in fights is a ten-minute first round, like in the old days of the Pride promotion. Or, better yet, fifteen-minute fights with no breaks, i.e. no rounds at all. In that instance I believe we would see very few fights going the distance to a decision. It would test fighters’ ability to last the pace, which would then provide a much clearer examination of their skills as they’ll be required to perform while combating fatigue. I’m tempted to run a show on these lines at local level to see how it would work. Somewhat paradoxically, I believe this would actually reduce the amount of unnecessary damage that fighters occasionally take. Removing that one-minute rest between rounds would change the entire dynamic. Sometimes a fighter may be close to being stopped at the end of a round, but then he has sixty seconds of respite, paving the way for him to possibly receive even more damage in the next round. The UFC Fight Night 85 bout between Neil Magny and Hector Lombard is an example of this. Lombard shipped a huge number of unanswered strikes in the latter stages of the second round, before he was finally stopped after twenty-six seconds of the third. With no breaks, I believe more fights would be stopped at the right time and fighters would therefore actually receive less damage.

  The standard of judging in MMA is often criticized. Pretty much every UFC event throws up at least one controversial decision from the judges. People have suggested other methods of scoring a fight than having three guys sitting cageside and calling it as they see it, but the reality is that no system will ever be perfect because it’s ultimately a matter of opinion. Judging could be done by simply counting takedowns and strikes, like the system used in amateur boxing in which the judges press a button on a machine whenever a scoring punch is landed, but that wouldn’t work in MMA: the sport is far too intricate and judging must inevitably be subjective. Judging MMA fights is like tasting two different varieties of the same soup. Even if they’re similar, you’re going to prefer one over the other and there’s no scientific reasoning for that. I also think it’s impossible to have a judge who doesn’t bring his own emotions into the equation. Maybe he has a connection to one of the fighters – he might be a friend of the fighter’s coach or a teammate – or perhaps he doesn’t like what he’s seen from the fighter in the media (in which case Conor might be in trouble if he ever goes the distance again!). A judge from a grappling background might score a fight differently from one whose background is in kick-boxing.

  The bottom line is that there are always going to be grey areas when human beings are involved, and, to be honest, I’m okay with that. You might see a strange decision now and again, but surely that’s to be expected. I think judges get it right the vast majority of the time, even if the loser’s fans on social media often try to convince us otherwise.

  Conor put in another really good training camp for the fight against Dennis Siver. The way he manages to improve between fights is remarkable. Just when you start to think he can’t get much better, he proves you wrong.

  A couple of weeks before the fight, Dana White announced that Conor would be rewarded for a win over Siver with a title shot against José Aldo, who had successfully defended the belt against Chad Mendes in October. Dana’s revelation was big news at the time, but it didn’t really change anything for us. It was what we had been expecting. No other fight made sense at that stage. So here we were, just two years on from Conor’s last fight with Cage Warriors, and he was officially one win away from fighting for the biggest prize in the sport.

  One obstacle we encountered for the fight against Siver was that Conor’s weight-cut was trickier than normal. The fight was scheduled to take place three weeks after Christmas, and being extremely strict with your diet can be very challenging over the festive period. In addition to that, cutting weight is always more difficult in cold weather, and Boston in January is pretty damn cold. When we arrived there a fortnight before the fight, the set-up was a lot more basic than what we had enjoyed in Vegas. At that stage in the process, it’s essential to eat the right food because your portions are pretty small. It’s mostly salads and stuff like that. The selection on the menu at the hotel wasn’t great, however, so that posed another little challenge.

  The weight-cutting process has become much more sophisticated over the years – we’ve gradually worked out the right way of doing things – but it took me quite a while to learn. I remember doing a same-day weigh-in for one of my own fights and I really pushed myself to the limit to make 145lb. After the weigh-in, with the fight itself just a few hours away, how did I refuel? By immediately scoffing down a massive pizza! I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Thankfully, nowadays we’ve acquired the knowledge from years of experience to do things a little smarter.

  The weight-cutting process is different for every fighter, but it generally involves weeks of strict dieting, several days of water-loading on fight week, followed by an intense twenty-four hours of draining fluids from the body – usually via a sauna or a hot salt bath. Conor favours the latter, although it’s fairly arduous. I had to laugh once when I returned from helping one of my fighters to cut their last few pounds in the bath and Orlagh said she’d like to try it some time – as if it were a case of putting on some music, lighting a few candles and chilling out in a nice, relaxing bath for an hour! In reality, you’re spending hours in a hot bath, with Epsom salts drawing the fluids out of your body.

  In the weeks leading up to the fight, you’re reducing your calorie intake in stages while simultaneously trying to maintain your levels in training. It requires a lot of discipline because there’s always temptation. Then, usually on the Sunday before a Saturday-night fight, the water-loading phase starts. That involves drinking as much as eight to ten litres of water a day, to the point where it can make you feel physically sick. Those few days result in the fighter piling on water-weight. Then Thursday afternoon comes and the cut begins in earnest with the baths or the sauna. The heat draws the moisture from the body and the pounds fall off, but it’s long and it’s arduous and it’s bloody unpleasant. Getting those last few pounds off can be pure torture. It’s both a physical and mental test, and a lot of people break.

  Because I work with fighters, I sometimes get people asking for advice on how to lose weight. Often it’s women who are trying to slim down for a wedding. They’ve heard of an MMA fighter who cut ten pounds in twenty-four hours and want to know what the secret is. But there is no secret. Cutting weight and losing weight are very different things. If a fighter completely drains their body in order to get to a certain weight for a couple of hours for a weigh-in, they’ll put that weight back on again in the f
ollowing twenty-four hours as they take on fluids and refuel their body for the fight. The whole painful process is geared towards gaining as much of a size advantage as you can on fight night.

  It’s funny that for the majority of the week, fighters are forcing water down their throats until they get to a point where they feel like they never want to drink again, yet by the time Friday arrives, they’d do anything for a drink. It’s a weird, lopsided cycle. During that last twenty-four hours, food and water are out of the question as it’s all about becoming as light as possible. It’s a massive relief when they’ve stepped on the scales and made the weight, but the responsibility to be professional doesn’t end there. Refuelling and rehydrating is a very delicate process. You can’t just flood your body with food and fluids immediately, despite the urge to do so. It’s about getting minerals and electrolytes in at the right times so that your system is given time to recover. Eating small portions of good carbohydrates – pasta, mashed potatoes, etc. – at regular intervals is the way to go.

  Artem Lobov used to make life difficult for himself when cutting weight. Instead of slowly bringing his weight down as the fight approached, he usually left it to the last minute so that he had a huge amount still to cut in a very short period of time. When I’m there to help him, we sail through it; but if he’s left to his own devices it’s not so straightforward.

  For one of his fights, Artem still had about thirteen pounds to cut on the evening before the weigh-ins, i.e. just shy of one stone in under twenty-four hours. He decided that he’d cut half that night and do the other half the next morning. After a few intense hours, Artem had managed to get rid of seven pounds before going to bed to get some rest. He woke shortly afterwards, feeling a bit delirious. He was extremely thirsty, and he remembered that there was a two-litre bottle of Fanta in his refrigerator. I’ll go down and have a little sip just to quench my thirst, he thought. Ten minutes later, he was sitting at his kitchen table, staring at an empty bottle of Fanta. He had consumed every last drop – and put back on all the weight that he had spent the evening torturing himself to cut. He was back up at dawn and spent the entire morning in the bath to make up for his mistake, with his mother holding him down to make sure he couldn’t back out. Artem still managed to make the weight, but that’s a good example of how not to do it.