I’m not sure if I’ll ever experience a more hectic day as a coach than 11 July 2015. That night, Conor was going to compete for an interim world title. I also had two other fighters on the UFC 189 bill. John Hathaway had to pull out of his bout against Gunnar Nelson, so Gunni was going to take on Brandon Thatch instead, while Cathal Pendred – just four weeks after beating Augusto Montaño in Mexico – had stepped in as a short-notice replacement to fight John Howard.
But my duties for the day began even earlier, because the finals of the Amateur World Championships were scheduled for that afternoon at the Flamingo, just up the strip from the MGM Grand. Frans Mlambo and Sinéad Kavanagh had both made it to the last stage of their respective divisions after a successful week. Sinéad unfortunately came up short in the women’s featherweight final, but Frans looked superb as he became the men’s champion at 145lb. That gave us a good start to the day as I prepared to make my way across town for UFC 189.
Fight day for Conor involves – as usual – a late rise from bed, probably just after midday. He’ll have a meal at lunchtime and again at around 4 p.m. Between the weigh-in and the fight, you want to eat the kind of food that your body can turn into fuel right away: meat, fish, pasta, rice and mashed potatoes. Slow-burning carbohydrates such as vegetables aren’t much good. Eat what you can’t eat while cutting weight, basically. After the two meals, Conor will have something small, like a banana, at 6 p.m. or so, and then it’s time for him to head to the arena.
I had stayed at the MGM Grand instead of the Mac Mansion the night before the fight, and with Cathal slotted in early on the card, I was already at the arena by the time Conor arrived. His recovery from the weight-cut had been smooth and he had slept well. That’s always music to my ears. At that point, I feel like my job is mostly done. Now it’s just time to fight. Some people place a bit too much importance on what’s going on in the corner during a fight, but there’s not really a whole lot involved. Sometimes I’ve received a lot of praise for things I’ve contributed during fights but, in my mind, it’s not going to change the outcome. Maybe you can provide a little bit of guidance and it’s comforting for the fighter to know that their coach, someone they know and trust, is there for them. But there’s not much more to it than that.
When Cathal took on John Howard, he was aiming to become the first fighter in UFC history to win five fights within the space of their first year with the organization. Unfortunately it wasn’t to be as he was edged out on a split decision. It was bitterly disappointing for the entire team in the SBG changing room, but we’ve learned over the years on smaller shows never to allow one result to dampen the mood. The fighters know what’s expected of them as teammates. Regardless of the result, when you return to that changing room you grab your bag and go, allowing colleagues to focus on the fights that are still to come. That might sound cold or callous, but it’s the same when they win. They’ve all experienced both sides of the coin and they appreciate it when someone else does it for them. Cathal wished Gunni and Conor all the best, and then he was gone. As always, we’d all get together again later in the evening once business was taken care of. That’s the policy and it has been from the very start.
When Gunni was rematched to face Brandon Thatch, people said we were crazy to accept the fight. Thatch is a big, devastating striker and Gunni needed to get back to winning ways after the disappointment of losing to Rick Story. But the old Gunni was back during the warm-up and he submitted Thatch in the very first round. The fight lasted just under three minutes, but that was enough time for Gunni to remind the world of what he can do. It was an immaculate performance.
Then it was Conor’s turn. There were people all over the world tuning in to an MMA fight for the first time in their lives, which summed up just how big this was. But the atmosphere in our changing room was incredibly laid-back.
There were a lot of celebrities in the arena for the fight, including Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mike Tyson, pop star Bruno Mars and Neymar, the Brazilian footballer. I also bumped into Anthony Kiedis, the lead singer from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, in the corridor.
‘Hey Coach Kavanagh, how’s Conor feeling?’ he asked. ‘Big fan of you guys. Good luck!’
That was amazing, but I knew there was somebody else in our changing room who’d appreciate it more than I did. When I told Chris Fields, who was there as a warm-up partner for Cathal, he ran out and went looking for Kiedis, screaming like a teenage girl at a One Direction concert. Chris is a huge Chili Peppers fan so this was a big deal for him.
Conor didn’t have a clue who Anthony Kiedis was. When Chris came back in, Conor asked: ‘Who’s that? Guns N’ Roses or some fella, is it?’
Conor likes to warm up for his fights with Artem. You almost have to restrain him as the walk-out approaches, like a dog on a leash. It’s become a bit of a running joke that Artem has left his best fights in the changing room when he’s getting Conor ready.
Then there’s a knock on the door from one of the UFC’s staff. It’s time. The security guys come in to walk you out. You hear the crowd – for each fight they get louder but it’s just a soundtrack of background noise. As UFC commentator Mike Goldberg said: ‘It’s like a rock concert in here.’ But all I hear is the same silence that always allows me to focus on the task ahead. Sinéad O’Connor’s haunting voice is carrying Conor to the octagon. It’s an iconic moment, reminiscent of the spectacular walk-outs that became synonymous with boxers like Prince Naseem Hamed during the 1990s. Even when we appear in the arena and it seems clear that the vast majority of the crowd is on our side, the colour of the occasion doesn’t become a distraction.
Going into this fight, there was little doubt in my mind that Mendes would be successful with his takedowns. His ability as a wrestler, coupled with Conor’s lack of work in that area over the past few months, meant that it was inevitable. Our game plan was focused on what would happen when the takedowns came. There was no need to panic when it happened, because Conor had the jiu-jitsu to take care of himself on the ground. We focused on making sure that the action on the ground was always busy and active, which would prevent Mendes from grinding out a boring decision over five rounds.
Just as Conor was about to enter the octagon, we had our customary embrace and I said, ‘All day,’ which he repeated back to me. The message was that Mendes might get his takedowns, but that’s okay. Conor could go for as long as was necessary to get this win. When Artem, Owen and I took our places in the corner and Mendes began his walk to the octagon, it really hit me that we were about to face the best wrestler in the division without sufficient preparation. Oh well, I thought. There’s no turning back now. What will be, will be.
Part of our strategy was to target Mendes with shots to the body, and that worked well from very early on. Going to the head too enthusiastically against a small, stocky wrestler like Mendes would be a recipe for disaster, as he’d see that as an invitation to change levels and hit big takedowns. We knew the takedowns were coming, but we didn’t want to invite them. When aiming for the body, if the opponent does level-change, there’s always a chance of connecting with the head instead. Conor used his eight-inch reach advantage well and the shots to the body also helped to take the wind out of Mendes’s sails. Each one that connected drained a little more gas from his tank.
Conor didn’t seem to be showing any ill effects from the knee injury until midway through the first round. Mendes shot for his first big takedown and Conor wasn’t able to sprawl as well as I knew he was capable of. However, there was no sense of panic. This was exactly what he expected. When Mendes secured that takedown, two things went through my mind. First of all, what an absolutely beautiful takedown! Secondly, I thought that it had to take a lot of energy for him to pick up a big guy like Conor and dump him on the ground like that. Just over two minutes into a potential twenty-five-minute fight, he invested a lot in that manoeuvre physically. If you watch my guys, they tend to get small takedowns against the fence because I like to focus on the most
efficient way of moving. This one looked great, but it took so much effort that he needed to make it count. Conor was comfortable with Mendes in his guard and, even though he ate some shots, he was back on his feet just seconds later.
Conor continued to control the fight on the feet but another takedown for Mendes with just a minute remaining was probably enough to give him the first round on the scorecards. Still, we were very satisfied at the end of that first round. Mendes already looked exhausted, whereas Conor – in spite of a deep gash over his right eye thanks to an elbow from Mendes – looked fresh.
‘Let’s stick with the long shots,’ I said, encouraging Conor to work the range, although I wasn’t keen on the spinning kicks he had been using due to the risk of being taken down. ‘The left kick to the body is beautiful and the straight to the body as well with the left hand. He’s very tired now.’
When the fighters returned to their feet for round two, Mendes was breathing heavily while Conor beckoned him on with a maniacal smile on his face. Conor hit Mendes with some beautiful shots early in the second round and it seemed like a stoppage might be on the way if things continued in that vein. But Mendes countered with a takedown with fifty seconds on the clock. Mendes spent the next three minutes in top position on the ground but Conor maintained a strong guard. At one point he landed a flurry of devastating elbows to the top of the head, which Mendes protested as illegal shots, but referee Herb Dean was quick to let him know that they were fine. One of the cameras cut to me at that point and I was laughing because that’s exactly what we had worked on as a means of staying active if Mendes was on top. I felt it would be a suitable tactic to make Mendes uncomfortable on the ground, and that proved to be the case. The ideal scenario for Mendes was to hang out in guard, but Conor’s success in countering with the elbows would eventually force Mendes to rush a guard-pass attempt. With forty-five seconds left in the round, he stepped over and tried to advance the position. However, that’s a scenario Conor has spent a lot of time on in the gym. As Mendes sought to lock in a guillotine choke, Conor slipped out using a move we call ‘The Heartbreaker’ and, all of a sudden, they were back on their feet.
It’s easy for anyone to say, with the benefit of hindsight, that they knew what was coming. But when Mendes failed to make anything from that sequence on the ground, I was certain he was done. The look on his face suggested as much too. As soon as they were upright, Conor went to work with some beautiful combinations. To give Mendes credit, he was unbelievably tough and kept battling as he was being hit with big kicks and punches. But he was on borrowed time. He eventually went down under a left cross from Conor and the stoppage came with three seconds remaining in the round.
In the corner, I leapt to my feet and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Conor’s injury hadn’t been made public so nobody was aware of how truly significant this win was for us. He had taken on a dangerous opponent at short notice without being at full capacity, yet still emerged victorious. As Conor climbed on to the octagon perimeter to celebrate with his team, I was a very proud coach. There were tears of elation. Conor was more emotional than I had ever seen him after a fight and I think we all felt the same. The world hadn’t seen that side of him before. Conor is always supremely confident, but he knew he had been at risk facing a guy like Chad Mendes in those circumstances. The risk had paid off and it felt really, really good.
The team and Conor’s family gathered in the octagon as Dana White wrapped a UFC belt around his waist. Margaret McGregor beamed as she embraced her son, the interim UFC featherweight champion of the world. That phone call she made to me back in 2008 had paid off for us all.
‘I just honestly want to say thank you to my team, my family, everyone that has come up with me, because it’s a tight, tight circle,’ said Conor in his post-fight interview in the octagon. ‘People since day one are here with me now, I just want to thank everyone that has been with me.’
The undisputed title would have to wait for another day, but there was now a UFC belt coming back to Ireland. It took a while for that to sink in.
Afterwards, I went backstage to find an empty room so I could carry on my tradition of taking a few private minutes to myself after a fight. The first room I went into seemed to be hosting a little private party for the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mike Tyson, Dana White and Sinéad O’Connor.
‘John, come in, have a drink,’ Dana said. But I politely declined. I needed a chance to let it all sink in before getting the party started.
When we did get stuck into the celebrations, that first cold beer in ten weeks was perhaps the most satisfying thing I’ve ever consumed. We had a lot of fun for a couple of days, making the most of the rare opportunity to check out the bars and nightclubs of Las Vegas. In one of them I ended up having a little wrestling match with Artem Lobov because he refused to leave! When there’s beer and dancing involved, Artem can’t be stopped.
By the time we headed back home to Ireland, however, attentions were already beginning to turn to a featherweight title unification bout. We had a belt, but the one in José Aldo’s possession was what we had been chasing from the start. It was time to resume that pursuit.
17
For a long time I had aspired to have fighters competing regularly in the UFC in different parts of the world. When I arrived back from Las Vegas on the Wednesday afternoon after UFC 189, jet-lagged and emotionally drained, I was slightly regretting the fact that those goals were coming to fruition.
I had twenty hours back home in Dublin before returning to the airport to head for Glasgow, where Paddy Holohan was scheduled to face English veteran Vaughan Lee at UFC Fight Night 72 on Saturday, 18 July 2015. Not long before the fight with Paddy was announced, Vaughan had actually been planning to join SBG. He came over for a while and even did some training with Paddy. But Vaughan was planning to move down to the flyweight division from bantamweight, which put him on a potential collision course with Paddy, so nothing more came of it. Now they would be up against each other in Glasgow.
Vaughan is a great competitor, very durable and experienced, and he had already faced top guys like TJ Dillashaw and Raphael Assunção. However, having trained with him, Paddy was supremely confident, and so was I. I expected Paddy to finish him and he was close to doing so on a couple of occasions, but in the end we had to settle for a very comprehensive win on the scorecards, with the judges calling it 30–27 across the board. The win took Paddy to 3–1 in the UFC. He had responded brilliantly to the first defeat of his career the previous October and there was now a real sense of momentum behind him.
When I returned home from Glasgow, I finally felt like I had a chance to take a little breather and assess everything that had taken place in the previous fortnight. After each UFC win, the popularity and visibility of MMA in Ireland just got bigger. It was particularly noticeable on the back of Conor’s win against Chad Mendes. Ireland was officially the home of a UFC belt. Only three other European countries – Poland, the Netherlands and Belarus, thanks to Joanna Je˛drzejczyk, Bas Rutten and Andrei Arlovski – have been able to say that.
It’s a little family tradition now that we all meet up at the Glenside pub in Rathfarnham on Sunday afternoons. I’d really missed those occasions while I was away in Vegas, so it was great to get back from Glasgow in time to join the family there, with Conor’s belt in tow. Everybody in the pub came over to extend their congratulations, as they offered to buy us drinks and took pictures with the belt, and the owner brought us in behind the bar for a photo; but for me the reaction of my mam and dad was possibly the most satisfying part of the victory. They were just incredibly proud. Being able to enjoy an achievement with your family is priceless.
For Conor, simple things like making a shopping trip to Dublin city centre had already become complicated undertakings which required a driver and bodyguards. Now even I was being recognized often on the same streets where I had been completely anonymous for most of my life. That took a while to get used to, but it’s always nice
to receive people’s support wherever you go throughout the city and country. It was becoming common to hear a ‘Howya, John?’ as I walked down the road, or a beep from a passing car. On the short walk between my apartment and the gym, I pass a primary school. After the Mendes fight, the kids in the schoolyard began to shout their encouragement when they spotted me on the way in: ‘Go on, Coach Kavanagh!’
It made me laugh the first time it happened. The positive vibes are always appreciated, but being recognized on the street can be strange. In your head, you always expect that you’re a stranger to people who are strangers to you. It took a while to get my head around the fact that that was not necessarily the case – another example of how life was beginning to change for us all.
While Conor enjoyed an enormous amount of support, there were also a lot of people who, even after he beat Mendes for the interim title, still remained unconvinced by his credentials. For a long time he had been subjected to claims that he was being protected by the UFC: they were supposedly deliberately keeping him away from top wrestlers. As I saw it, stopping a guy like Chad Mendes in the second round was as emphatic an answer as anyone could give to the question of whether Conor could overcome a high-class grappler, but apparently it still wasn’t enough. Excuses were made on Mendes’s behalf: he took the fight on short notice; he won the first round; the fight was stopped too early.
I struggled to agree with any of that. It was a short-notice fight for Conor too, given that he had been preparing for a completely different type of opponent. And from what I could see, Mendes was in very good shape. He would have known that, given José Aldo’s history of withdrawing from fights, there was a strong chance he’d be getting a call-up. When that call came, I’d suspect that it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Mendes. He would have been ready for it. At this level, guys are always in shape for at least three rounds anyway.
Win or Learn: MMA, Conor McGregor and Me: A Trainer's Journey Page 20