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

by John Kavanagh

  Having given the whole scenario plenty of thought, I’ll openly admit that I wondered whether this was something I wanted to continue doing. But when I asked myself that question, walking away never felt like it would be the right course of action.

  Your emotions constantly alternate in the aftermath of something like that. I found it tough, but for Charlie it was particularly difficult. Sometimes you can think rationally and accept that you merely competed within the rules of a sporting contest. But there are other times when you’re an emotional wreck and you start to question – incorrectly – whether what happened was your fault. That’s something Charlie has to endure, but he’s doing so with the benefit of whatever support he needs from his coaches and teammates.

  There was some peace of mind for him a few days later when João’s brother gave a TV interview in which he insisted nobody was to blame, that João loved the sport and nothing would ever have stopped him from pursuing his dream of making a successful living from MMA. Both fighters entered the cage with the very same intention. Charlie knows that with another flip of the coin, he could have been the unfortunate one.

  I’ve cornered for nearly a thousand fights and I can honestly say that this one didn’t stand out as being more punishing than any other. There was a lot of grappling involved and it did look like quite a tiring contest. When I heard afterwards that João had collapsed in the changing room, I immediately assumed it was due to exhaustion. Even though he had won the fight, Charlie was also quite fatigued. There didn’t seem to have been a huge amount of heavy shots landed by either fighter. There were probably fewer punches landed over the course of the entire bout than you’d see in one round of a professional boxing match. I certainly wouldn’t describe it as particularly brutal.

  The finish actually reminded me of Conor McGregor’s fight against Chad Mendes. With João in the turtle position, Charlie pounced and threw nine additional shots, most of which landed on João’s shoulder and forearm. Recalling Conor’s victory against Mendes, people bemoaned what they believed was an early stoppage. Yet on this occasion, critics said the referee stepped in between João and Charlie too late. It’s easy to complain about the stoppage with the benefit of hindsight, but the reality was that it didn’t look out of place at the time. The referee gave João a chance to recover when he went down. As soon as a couple of those shots connected with his head and it was clear that João wasn’t fighting back or defending himself intelligently, the ref intervened.

  I didn’t see João backstage afterwards but others who did said he initially seemed okay. He even asked Conor for a picture. There didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary about the situation, which added to the sense of shock over such a tragic outcome.

  João’s passing became a huge news story globally, which tells you just how rare and unforeseen a death in MMA is. For days afterwards I was inundated with calls and messages from the biggest media outlets around the world. Eventually, I had to change my number because the phone just didn’t stop ringing. Much of the media’s reaction focused on calls to ban mixed martial arts, with journalists keen to get my response.

  You’re in a weird place at a time like that. It was difficult for everyone connected to SBG. Every fighter and coach in the gym was hounded by the media. It was almost as though we didn’t have a chance to mourn because we were trying to put on this public front in an attempt to represent the sport in a positive manner as it came under fire.

  In every sport there are tragedies and there’s not always somebody to blame. I read an article recently which said that for every ten successful ascents of Mount Everest, there is one death. Yet there never seems to be any outcry for banning mountaineering. There have been deaths in many sports – cycling, rugby, boxing, etc. – yet people claim MMA is different because it involves striking your opponent. My belief is that if a sport is to be banned, that decision shouldn’t be made based on its perception or intent. The sport should be banned only if it can be proven to be disproportionately dangerous in relation to other sports. The statistics show that, in terms of injuries and fatalities, MMA is by no means the most dangerous sporting activity. If there are no calls for other sports to be banned, why should MMA be any different?

  Banning a sport because of a death would result in the world being left with few – if any – sports at all. If that’s your process of reasoning, you’re better off staying indoors and watching TV for the rest of your life. But that’s not the safest option either. Having no sporting activity in your life whatsoever is far more dangerous to your health than competing in sport. It’s human nature to want to test your physical limits. Some people like to kick a ball or climb a mountain, others prefer to compete in martial arts. That’s the way life has been for a long time and it’s not going to change.

  At the time of writing, an inquest and investigation into the exact causes of João Carvalho’s death is ongoing. Was there a pre-existing issue or was the damage done by one of the shots he took? I don’t know the answer to that, but I’m sure there will eventually be one.

  One of the main talking points in the media after the fight was the fact that mixed martial arts is not recognized by Sport Ireland (formerly the Irish Sports Council), the state’s sporting body. Without government recognition or regulation, there are no standards that MMA must adhere to in Ireland. Currently, any person can run an MMA event in this country and there are no minimum requirements pertaining to officiating, medical care or anything else. That should not be the case. A promoter is generally a businessman whose priority is to make a profit, so the level of care they provide for fighters shouldn’t be at their discretion. No one can stop you from hosting an MMA event with the lowest of standards if you so wish. Gym owners like myself can choose not to cooperate with such a promoter, but they’ll always find willing fighters elsewhere.

  Total Extreme Fighting was the promotion which hosted the bout between Charlie Ward and João Carvalho. Straight after the fight I had to dash backstage to prepare another one of my fighters, Luka Jelcˇic´, who was due to compete later in the evening. Therefore, I wasn’t in a position to scrutinize comprehensively the medical procedures that were in place on the night. However, to the naked eye, everything appeared to be of a high standard. In fact, the doctors present were performing head injury assessments between each round in every fight, which is something I had never seen before at any level. It seemed to me that things were being done correctly, but having said that, I’m not in a position to evaluate the doctors’ track records or determine whether the correct protocols were completely followed. I wasn’t overseeing every single aspect of the show, but things appeared to be in order from what I could see.

  João Carvalho’s death has served as a reminder that, while these occurrences are extremely rare, there are still risks and dangers involved in MMA. That’s something I’ve never shied away from. I’m passionate about defending my sport and its safety record, but my head isn’t buried in the sand either. That’s why regulation for MMA in Ireland is so important. We can’t eliminate the risks involved, but with government assistance we can certainly minimize the possibility of such a terrible tragedy recurring.

  There’s no silver lining to be taken from any person’s death but we still have to make sure that we react to this in the right way. Regulation for MMA in Ireland is something I’ve been striving for, and while it is absolutely regrettable that it took a man’s death to act as the catalyst for the powers-that-be to share in the desire to achieve that goal, at least we now appear to be heading in the right direction.

  In my role as president of the Irish Amateur Pankration Association – an organization that represents MMA in Ireland – I have entered preliminary discussions with government and Sport Ireland officials. I’m keen to follow the model in Sweden, where they’ve had a national governing body to regulate all aspects of MMA since 2007.

  Securing recognition for MMA in Ireland remains a significant challenge. There’s still much work to be done. However
, getting to that point would be a more important step for the sport here than any world title or UFC event.

  Unfortunately we cannot guarantee that there will never be another fatality. But what I do know is that I want to do everything I possibly can to ensure that every individual who competes in mixed martial arts in Ireland – and all over the world, for that matter – returns to their family afterwards in good health.

  Whenever I tell people about the most difficult parts of my journey, they always seem to assume that the only thing that kept me going was the thought that I’d eventually coach a UFC champion and the biggest superstar the sport has ever seen. As if I knew when I was taking out a loan to rent a shed at the back of someone’s house in Phibsboro that I was on my way to being involved in some of the biggest occasions in the history of mixed martial arts. That was the dream, of course, but only a tiny percentage of people ever get to experience the very pinnacle of their profession. Given the recent success that SBG has had, I can understand why people will look at me today and conclude that this was how it was destined to be. But that really isn’t the case.

  This has been a rollercoaster ride. There were as many low points as there were highlights along the way. At times it might have made more sense to get off and try something else, but I’m certainly glad I never did. My long-term involvement in this sport didn’t hinge on UFC success. To be completely honest, that has been nothing other than a bonus, albeit a pretty huge one. All I’ve ever wanted was to do enough to ensure that MMA paid the bills. As long as that was the case, I was in this for life. There are a lot of other coaches in Ireland who have been involved since the early days. They haven’t had successful UFC fighters, but they’re as enthusiastic about the sport now as they’ve ever been. It could very easily have been me in the same position.

  I’m extremely grateful to have become involved with a golden generation of fighters from our little island, who happened to be led by one of the most remarkable athletes and characters in the history of mixed martial arts and, indeed, all Irish sport. I’ve been told that it was a coincidence that so many fighters with so much talent happened to arrive at the same time, but I don’t think this is really about talent. As I see it, the coincidence was that so many fighters with such an incredible work ethic and appetite for learning all came along at once.

  I’ve been Ireland’s first MMA fighter, first Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt and first coach of a UFC champion. Sure, they’re significant achievements to reflect on, but that’s not what I’ll take the most satisfaction from when I call it a day. The overriding theme when I look back will be that I spent my life doing something I love. There’s no greater satisfaction than that.

  The pinnacle for an MMA coach is to train a UFC champion. I’ve already achieved that, yet it still seems like we’re just getting started. I genuinely feel like a beginner at this level of the game. Conor McGregor is my first world champion. He’s leading my initial wave. But I believe the hardest work is still to come. Let’s get the teenagers, fourteen, fifteen and sixteen years of age, and mould them into world-class athletes. I know so much more than I knew when Conor made his debut in the UFC. I’m learning every day and, with my fortieth birthday approaching, I expect to continue that cycle of education for at least another twenty years. You’ll never master everything about this game, because there’s simply too much involved. I’ll be a student of the game until the day I die.

  It’s not all about competing, either. SBG caters for people at all levels who have a wide variety of goals. The vast majority of our members don’t train to fight. For them, the training is part of their lifestyle. We’ve had some great success stories over the years of people who had been enduring difficult times but found a new lease of life after becoming a part of SBG. I take as much satisfaction from seeing somebody achieving a long-term fitness goal as I do from big wins for my professional fighters.

  For many years, my family weren’t keen on my involvement in mixed martial arts. However, it’s important not to mistake that for a lack of support. The fact of the matter is that without their backing, I simply wouldn’t have made it this far. In the early days they felt my time would have been better spent using my degree to find a ‘normal’ job instead of fighting people in sheds, and who could blame them? It would have been remiss of them not to give me that advice. Abandoning a good career in favour of training full-time was sheer lunacy, in hindsight, but it was an obsession for me. My family appreciated that. Considering how well things have worked out, nobody is happier for me than my dad, Alan, my mother, Margaret, my sister, Ann, and my brother, James. Their support means more to me than I could ever convey. Without the encouragement I’ve received from my parents, the help I’ve had from Ann over the years and the inspiration I take from James, that success wouldn’t have occurred and this book wouldn’t be in your hands.

  At its birth, SBG Ireland was a few beginners in a small, damp, smelly shed. Now, we have over 700 members in a state-of-the-art gym. In order to cater for the ever-growing demand, we’re expanding to additional facilities in Swords, just north of Dublin, and Tallaght, to the south-west. We’ve gone nationwide too, with ten satellite gyms throughout Ireland that are affiliated to SBG. Today, a person can join SBG and acquire in six months a level of knowledge that I needed six years to attain.

  We’re home to a UFC world champion and several contenders, plus a bunch of promising youngsters who are rising rapidly through the top shows on the European circuit. The numbers are always increasing, but the overall philosophy remains the same.

  Perhaps it’s fitting that this tale of success against the odds has ended with a setback. At Straight Blast Gym, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose, but every time we learn. That attitude was with us when we were a tiny outfit that nobody in the UFC had ever heard of. We persevered and have travelled all the way to the top. Now that we’ve arrived, we’re staying loyal to the same mantra that got us here. It’s now more important than ever, because one loss isn’t going to send us back to the drawing board. There are challenges ahead that will test our capacity to absorb the lessons that are dealt by sport at the highest level. I know that some of those challenges will result in victory and others will end in defeat. But I’m enthusiastic about them all. Regardless of the outcome of any contest, the real winners are those who learn the most.

  Illustrations

  1. The karate kid: in the garden at home in Dublin.

  2. This photo was taken shortly after I’d become the All-Ireland kenpo karate champion, aged fifteen.

  3. MMA was nowhere near the mainstream when I made my fighting debut in England, but I got a bit of press coverage back home.

  4. With Conor McGregor, Clive Staunton, Cathal Pendred, Alan Duffy, Artem Lobov, James ‘Sexual’ Heelan, Aisling Daly and Paddy Holohan on the night of Cage Contender 8 in March 2011, in Dublin. Conor knocked out Mike Wood in sixteen seconds that night, and Cathal successfully defended his welterweight title. (Tommy Lakes)

  5. In what became a bit of a Straight Blast Gym tradition after a good night’s work, Cathal, Artem, Owen Roddy, Conor, myself, Ais, Chris Fields and Paddy posed for a celebratory shot in the octagon after Conor became Cage Warriors featherweight champ – his first title – in June 2012. The noise and electricity in the Helix that night were like nothing I had ever experienced. (Dolly Clew)

  6. Overseeing a grappling session at SBG, 2012. (Tommy Lakes)

  7. With Cathal Pendred and Chris Fields, cornering for Artem Lobov during his Cage Warriors fight in Amman, Jordan, in September 2012. (Tommy Lakes)

  8. With Conor in Philip Mulpeter’s corner at Cage Warriors 56 in London, July 2013. Even as his fame and success have exploded, Conor has remained a brilliant teammate to his fellow SBG fighters. (Dolly Clew)

  9. Walking the floor of the MGM Grand Garden with Conor and Artem before Conor’s Las Vegas debut, against Dustin Poirier at UFC 178 in September 2014. (Orlagh Hunter)

  10. Before the weigh-in for the Poirier fight, I turn
ed to Dana White and said, ‘Are we in Las Vegas or Dublin here?’ The Irish support for Conor was massive, and Poirier was rattled. (Tommy Lakes)

  11. With Conor, his partner Dee Devlin and my partner Orlagh Hunter at the Red Rock hotel just before heading to the MGM Grand for the fight.

  12. Sipping whiskey with Gunnar Nelson and Conor at the party in Dublin to celebrate my engagement to Orlagh. (Orlagh Hunter)

  13. Rolling with Conor in the buildup to UFC 189. We’d been preparing for a title fight against José Aldo, who fights mostly on his feet, and Conor was carrying a knee injury, so we’d gone relatively easy on the grappling drills. When Aldo pulled out and Chad Mendes – a top wrestler – stepped in, I was a bit nervous. But Conor just said, ‘They’re all the same.’ (Orlagh Hunter)

  14. With Orlagh on a night off in Vegas before the Mendes fight.

  15. Celebrating with a bloodied but victorious Conor after he knocked out Mendes, to take the interim UFC featherweight title. (PA)

  16. After the noise and adrenalin of a big fight night in Vegas, I like to find a quiet spot, lie down on the floor and let everything sink in. After Conor took thirteen seconds to knock out José Aldo, becoming the undisputed featherweight champ, I reflected on what a long and unlikely journey it had been. (Orlagh Hunter)