I’m pretty blunt with my fighters. Everything is black and white. They know they’ll get all my attention if they’re on the mat, but that won’t be the case if they’re skipping sessions. I have to put my energy into people who are in the gym. I’ve got forty fighters now, so I don’t have time to chase them all if they’re not showing up. The guys know that’s part of the deal. Regardless of how big your upcoming fight may be, if you’re not on the mat, you’re not even in my head. If we’re not having a lot of interaction on the mat, there’s not much I can do for you as a coach. I know some coaches do it differently. Kieran McGeeney is great when it comes to monitoring his players all the time. If one of them is out on a Friday night, Kieran will hear about it and he’ll be at the guy’s door on Saturday morning. I can’t imagine anything more terrifying than seeing Kieran at the door. But I’ve never really been that type. If you’re at the gym, we’re there together.
Cathal has always been very honest with himself, and he recognized that there was a substantial skill difference between himself and Tom Breese. After a loss like that, you have to take a step back and assess your situation. Do you want to be that guy who’s just a journeyman and a stepping stone for other fighters? If your heart isn’t in it the way it had been before, you could end up getting hurt. When he told me he had decided to walk away, I thought it was a very brave and wise decision. I was proud of him for making it himself, because most guys need to be told when they’ve gone too far. Cathal had done some amazing things in mixed martial arts. Winning four times in the UFC after being a Cage Warriors champion is something only one other Irishman has achieved. He left MMA with his head held high and rightly so, particularly given how late he came to the sport. He was an inspiration to many people, including myself. If you want something badly enough, never let anyone tell you that you’re not capable of attaining it. You’ll eventually reap the benefits of possessing that kind of attitude. Cathal Pendred is the proof.
Three weeks prior to the Aldo fight, we flew out to Los Angeles for the final stages of Conor’s training camp. We were preparing for a UFC title fight, just as we had been at UFC 189, but things were so much more relaxed this time. On that occasion there had been a lot of focus on the knee and how it would hold up. Here, it was just about the fight. This is where SBG is now, I thought. This is our level and it’s time to make a mark. It’s the best guy in Ireland against the best guy in the world. Let’s see if we belong here. Training had gone perfectly, so there was no need to be tense or apprehensive. All the bases had been covered. We were as ready as we had ever been.
The plan was to spend a couple of weeks in LA before driving up to Las Vegas for fight week. Conor had been admiring the expertise of a movement practitioner named Ido Portal for a while, and he invited Ido to join us for those final stages of training. By then, all the hard work was already done. Conor had been preparing for this fight for almost the entire year, so it was important to keep not only the body but also the mind fresh and loose. Ido’s callisthenic exercises were perfect for that.
At the pre-fight press conference a couple of days before UFC 194, the media read a lot into how laid-back Conor was. They were even examining his attire. Instead of the usual expensive suit, Conor showed up in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. Having barked and snarled at Aldo during their previous media encounters, Conor actually gave him a respectful nod at the end of this staredown. Reporters wondered if this was some sort of reverse psychology to engage Aldo further in the mind games, but I think they were probably overanalysing it. As I recall, Conor’s new suits just hadn’t arrived on time. In addition, I think everyone had grown tired of promoting the fight at that stage. Having invested so much in it, Conor had come to the end of that particular task. In his mind, Aldo had shown up and the fight was definitely, finally, going to happen, so the time for talking was over.
This was to be Conor’s first time competing since the UFC introduced a ban on intravenous rehydration after the weigh-ins, so the weight-cut had the potential to be trickier than usual because he usually used IV. But thanks to the assistance of George Lockhart – a nutrition consultant and former fighter – this cut was as easy as it could possibly have been. The preparations had been absolutely perfect. There was nothing I would have changed. If the fight didn’t go our way, there would simply be no excuses.
I expected the fight to unfold one of two ways. Either Aldo would be cautious and fight very defensively during a tentative first round, or else he would bullrush Conor early and try to get his hands on him as quickly as possible. I hoped it would be the latter, because I was sure that would play into Conor’s hands. He’s a brilliant counter-puncher on the back foot and would punish Aldo if he overextended.
Once again the Irish fans had travelled to Las Vegas in huge numbers. However, this fight wasn’t quite so much about the occasion. We were used to that by now and knew that nothing at the MGM Grand could top what we had experienced at UFC 189. This was purely about going in, defeating José Aldo and taking that belt. Everything else was immaterial.
As we made the walk to the octagon and Conor stepped inside, there was a massive feeling of relief. Finally, this was it. It was almost as if we were at peace, as a team. The fight was going to happen. José Aldo against Conor McGregor: it was here for real now, and it wasn’t going away until the debate over the best featherweight in the world was settled. Since Conor’s time with Cage Warriors, I had been picturing their paths crossing. People laughed when Conor mentioned Aldo’s name in an MTV documentary that was made just after he was signed by the UFC. No debuting featherweight had done that before. You had to earn the right to talk about Aldo, let alone fight him. But Conor was very serious. He wouldn’t have seen any point in fighting in the UFC unless Aldo was his target.
Afterwards, many observers discussed Aldo’s pre-fight demeanour and body language, claiming that he seemed tense and anxious during the walk-out and introductions. It’s easy to be an expert in hindsight, but I’d be lying if I said I noticed anything different about him. He had his head down until the fight began, but that was normal for him. It had never failed him before.
Having given a deliberately restrained prediction of ‘Conor to win inside three rounds’ when the bout with Aldo was originally announced earlier in the year, I was more honest when writing my column for The42.ie just before the fight at UFC 194: ‘Part of me can see it being over in sixty seconds.’ I genuinely believed that could be the case, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it actually happened. After such a drawn-out build-up, the contest that transpired was the shortest title bout in UFC history.
Conor charged out of his corner and took the centre of the octagon. He opened up with a straight left which narrowly missed the target, followed by an oblique kick to Aldo’s front leg. And then came the bullrush. Aldo pressed forward and faked a right to disguise a left hook, which actually landed. But Conor beat Aldo to the punch. He stepped back, countered with a beautiful left and the previously infallible UFC featherweight champion was chopped down like a pine tree. A year of preparation for just thirteen seconds … but we weren’t complaining.
I watched on in amazement, my mouth wide open, as I tried to process the fact that a historic moment in MMA, in Irish sport, had just happened a few feet in front of me. There was pandemonium in the arena all around me and I was soon partaking in it, but it took a while to come to terms with the significance of what had occurred. It’s never nice to see a fighter hurt like Aldo had been, particularly a legendary champion like him. But Conor’s achievement was simply phenomenal. Has a bigger statement ever been made in the UFC? I doubt it. Conor wouldn’t have to contend with that word he didn’t like any longer. Now he was undisputed.
After the new champion had been officially crowned and we made our way backstage, I found a quiet room and lay down on the floor. Orlagh can be sneaky with her phone and captured the moment I lay on the floor. At a time like that, it’s difficult to stop yourself from reflecting on the journ
ey. I thought about being beaten up in Rathmines; about painting that tiny shed in Phibsboro on a scorching hot day; about Dave Roche and all the training partners from the days when we barely even knew what we were doing; about never having a penny to my name because I spent everything I earned on furthering my martial arts education; about the tough nights of working on the doors; about how I was in tears when the gym in Tallaght fell through; about being kicked out of the place in Rathcoole; about all the losses and the setbacks. For the vast majority of the journey, the most convenient move would have been to throw in the towel. But there’s no easy route to any place that’s worth getting to.
We enjoyed the celebrations, of course, but overall it had been a bittersweet night for SBG. Earlier on the UFC 194 card, Gunnar Nelson had suffered a comprehensive loss against Demian Maia. It wasn’t long after Conor’s win that my thoughts turned to Gunni. It’s always been the case that I’ll linger on a defeat even on our most successful nights. If there are nine wins and one loss, it’s the loss that will consume my mind afterwards. I wasn’t sure how Gunni would react to it – I was almost expecting him to tell me that he was done with the sport – but when we sat down together with the benefit of a couple of days to reflect on the fight, his words were music to my ears.
‘I’ve never been more certain that I’m going to win that welterweight belt. I’m 100 per cent convinced about that. I love this. I don’t want to do anything else. I’m going to be the champion.’
I was so happy to hear Gunni say that. He acknowledged immediately that the loss was a valuable lesson and he was already enthusiastic about putting what he had learned into action. It marked a real change in his mentality, because his response to losing to Rick Story hadn’t been nearly so positive. Gunni could have reacted to the defeat to Maia by telling himself that his opponent was just so much better than him that there was no point in continuing to be a fighter, but instead he chose to focus on the fact that he had survived three rounds without being submitted by probably the best Brazilian jiu-jitsu practitioner in mixed martial arts. There were times when he could have looked for a way out, and most guys probably would have, but Gunni persevered. Sure, he had made physical errors in the fight, but none of them were unsolvable. And given that he’s ten years younger than Demian Maia, Gunni has plenty of time to rectify his mistakes.
I hadn’t had much of a Christmas in 2014, because Conor had been preparing for his fight against Dennis Siver. I made up for that in 2015 by spending ten days over the festive period with my family in Spain. Usually when I’m getting on an aeroplane it’s for something MMA related, so this was a very welcome novelty. There was no talk of fights for the duration of the holiday and it was just what I needed.
I knew that as soon as I stepped off the plane back in Dublin, Conor would embark on a quest to do something that had never been done before.
18
I assumed it was a joke when I first saw the story. ‘Oireachtas to discuss petition to put Conor McGregor’s face on the €1 coin,’ the headline read.
It sounded ridiculous, but seemingly there was substance to it. An Irish government committee was to examine the petition, which had been submitted by a member of the public. Unsurprisingly, it was eventually dismissed – but the episode was another example of how drastically Conor’s place in Irish society had changed. For most of the time I’ve known him, he barely had a €1 coin in his pocket. Now they were talking about putting his face on it. It was absolutely crazy, but that’s just the way things were going. He had become the biggest star MMA had ever seen, generating record revenue for the UFC and bringing the sport into the homes of people who had never paid attention to it before. Now, after each fight, you think there’s no way he can get any bigger, but every time he proves that theory wrong.
The discussion regarding the outrageous coin proposal took place just twenty-four hours after Conor’s next fight had officially been announced. Conor had already committed to fighting at UFC 200, which was going to be an enormous event – but that wasn’t happening until 9 July. I knew that Conor – particularly given that the fight with José Aldo had lasted just thirteen seconds – would want to fight again much sooner. There was no way he was going to sit on the sidelines for seven months.
In the aftermath of the Aldo fight, a couple of options were being discussed in the media. One was a rematch with Aldo, which was unlikely in the short term as the knockout would have restricted him from returning to training for quite a while. Another possibility was a featherweight title defence against Frankie Edgar. A former lightweight champion, Edgar was on a solid run of five consecutive wins at 145lb – the most recent of which was a first-round knockout of Chad Mendes just twenty-four hours before Conor defeated Aldo. Conor was enthused by the idea of taking on Frankie Edgar. He was the only legitimate featherweight contender Conor hadn’t yet fought. That was attractive, but Conor’s preference regarding his next move wasn’t in the featherweight division at all.
A move up to the lightweight division was something we had openly discussed; sooner or later, it was an inevitability. The weight-cut to 145lb was hard work for Conor, but 155lb would be far more straightforward. On top of that, there was an opportunity to make history. No fighter had ever been a UFC champion in two different weight classes at the same time. Following his quick win against Donald Cerrone in December, lightweight champion Rafael dos Anjos was in need of a new challenger and the chasing pack in that division hadn’t exactly been setting the world alight. Conor saw an opening and when an idea forms in his head, there’s simply no removing it until he follows through on it. He wasn’t completely abandoning the 145lb division, but for now things looked more attractive in the heavier weight class. Conor was intent on replicating what he had achieved with Cage Warriors: he wanted a belt on each shoulder.
In spite of the protests of some members of the UFC’s lightweight division, the fight made sense and it was officially announced on 12 January 2016. Rafael dos Anjos versus Conor McGregor for the UFC lightweight title at UFC 197 – which later became UFC 196, due to some reshuffling on the UFC’s calendar – at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas on 5 March. A chance to do what had never been done before. Unprecedented events. Just weeks after a historic night in Las Vegas, the preparations began for another.
Stylistically, Rafael dos Anjos was nothing we hadn’t seen before. To put it in simple terms, he’s a bit like a southpaw version of José Aldo. Dos Anjos had been on a good run of form, during which he defeated the likes of Anthony Pettis, Benson Henderson and Nate Diaz. In terms of his status as a champion, I felt he had done well to capitalize during a stale period for the lightweight division. No fight is easy at this level, and we would train accordingly for the significance of the occasion, but my belief was that Conor’s superior skills would result in one-way traffic and another first-round finish in our favour.
In a couple of columns I wrote as the fight approached, I discussed Conor’s move up to 155lb, probably his most natural weight; and I mentioned that I wouldn’t rule out a subsequent move up to the next division – welterweight, 170lb – either. Various media outlets interpreted this as Conor McGregor’s camp issuing a call-out to the reigning welterweight champion, Robbie Lawler. Conor admitted publicly that he was considering a challenge at 170lb as a possible option in the future and the press lapped it up. We hadn’t even fought for a second belt yet and already people were talking about a third. Conor had never fought at welterweight before. It was something we were open to, but it hadn’t been discussed in any great detail. As it happened, that 170lb debut was going to come much sooner than expected.
With the fight just twelve days away, I learned the bad news via a text from Conor: ‘Dos Anjos is out.’
This was late on a Monday night. By the Tuesday afternoon, the news that dos Anjos had sustained a foot injury was everywhere. Once again, Conor’s opponent had withdrawn. It was the sixth time it had happened in his last twelve fights.
That left the UFC in
a race against time to save the main event of a big pay-per-view card, because there was never any question of Conor pulling out too. We were ready to go. The onus was on the UFC to find a replacement. A few guys raised their hands, but I knew from the start who was going to get the nod.
When Conor first expressed his desire to move up to lightweight after the Aldo fight, there were actually two possibilities – one being the title shot against dos Anjos, the other a meeting with Nate Diaz, who competed at both lightweight and welterweight. We were very intrigued by the latter, to be perfectly honest, but the chance to make history was too good to turn down. Now, with dos Anjos having pulled out, the situation was resolved within thirty-six hours. Diaz wanted to fight Conor, Conor wanted to fight Diaz, and the fans wanted to watch two of the most entertaining and popular fighters in the sport locking horns. It made perfect sense. Diaz was ranked fifth at lightweight, but that didn’t accurately reflect his ability or standing in the game.
It was disappointing that the chance to win the second belt was gone, for now, but there was no point in complaining about that. A fight against Nate Diaz was a pretty good alternative. I’ve been a big admirer of the Diaz brothers – Nate and his older brother, Nick – for a long time. If you’re a fan of MMA, there’s just no way that you can possibly dislike those guys. They’re already icons of the sport. Nate and Nick have unapologetically done things their own way for years; they don’t care for conformity and I’ve got a lot of time for their attitude. They come to scrap every single time. Regardless of the outcome, there has never been a time when the Diaz brothers haven’t delivered for the fans. Boring fights aren’t in their arsenal and they actually seem to get stronger and better as the rounds progress. The Diaz approach is to walk through the opponent’s shots and try to take him out. I believed that, up against Conor’s own unique style, was the recipe for a captivating contest which would be a lot of fun for everyone involved – the fans and the media and the fighters themselves. I also believed that a win was well within Conor’s capability. Diaz had looked impressive in his win against top-five lightweight Michael Johnson in December, but he had allowed himself to be hit very often. I expected Conor to expose that flaw.
Win or Learn: MMA, Conor McGregor and Me: A Trainer's Journey Page 22