Upset City
Stunning UFC 196 wins by Diaz, Tate are blows to mainstream, Martin Rogers writes,
There was no official afterparty for Nate Diaz. His celebration was more of the spontaneous kind, which is probably how it should be in this city that revels in impromptu fun.
At 2 a.m. Sunday, Diaz, a few hours removed from the most significant win of his UFC career, slipped into a bar in the lobby of MGM Grand to lap up the kudos that came with beating Conor McGregor — the athlete formerly known as mixed martial arts’ biggest and most dominant star.
Neither Diaz nor his management had booked a nightclub for a glitzy victory bash and were left with the somewhat unimaginatively named “Lobby Bar,” because most other places where you could score a cold beer were closed.
McGregor had planned in advance. His party was due to be a splendid affair down at Surrender (yes, how ironic) nightclub in the Encore. Wonder how that turned out.
Such pomp is not really Diaz’s style. Anyway, as a heavy underdog in the main event of UFC 196 and with only 11 days to prepare after taking the fight on short notice, there were a few other things on his mind.
Fans crowded around Diaz once word got out that he was in a corner of the bar, surrounded by friends and family. His face bruised and battered, he posed with selfies and semi-responded to comments yelled in his direction.
Diaz gave half a glance to a television screen where highlights of his second-round submission victory were playing.
What did he think watching it
back? A shrug, a smile and a satisfied nod of the head.
Was there another party to go
to? Shrug.
For how long was he going to party? Shrug. Diaz deserved his chance, deserved his win and deserves the accolades that will come his way for shutting the mouth and stemming the upward progress of McGregor.
The upshot is that one of the Ultimate Fighting Championship’s hottest stars is now a man who might be too anti to even be an anti-hero.
Diaz’s victory propels him to a new level, and, after years of chasing the biggest bouts, he could find himself as the pursued party. How does that sit with the UFC, which is trying to present itself as more mainstream yet has just seen a disruptor step forward?
Diaz’s favored method of communication, given the evidence of the last week, is to convey his feelings with a flurry of middlefinger salutes or a barrage of expletives that question the recipient’s maternal parentage.
His most lucid comment after his finest victory was in expressing the hope he will be given the kind of promotional support McGregor has had over the last couple of years, support that lifted the Irishman to stardom.
“(McGregor) has had a lot of help behind him,” Diaz said. “I wish I had the same push, the same help. I have being doing this a long time. I think it is time.”
It is time for Diaz to get bigger fights, and that almost will certainly follow. A strong promotional push — let’s just say that’s a bit more unlikely.
Whether you love McGregor or loathe him for antics that are routinely crude and inflammatory, he has a certain sense of charisma about him and the ability to make himself relevant to a larger market.
Diaz’s charms are considerably less polished, and we shouldn’t expect to see him on too many network television shows for risk of an explosion of profanity.
The UFC hard core love it, of course. The three biggest cheers of the night were when McGregor tapped out, during the fight when McGregor drew blood and opened a wound that would send a claret stream down his rival’s face and when Diaz dropped a curse word on live TV in his postfight interview.
Things might be slowly changing, but for now the organization is in the habit of embracing the seamier side. The UFC public relations staff roared delightedly when Diaz dropped an expletive in his postfight news conference.
While Saturday brought about one of the most entertaining cards in recent memory — after all, who doesn’t love upsets? — it also represented a shift at the top of the UFC’s roster of celebrity stars.
Diaz, by the sheer weight of his fighting ability, has worked his way into a lofty place. So, too, has Miesha Tate, the new women’s bantamweight champion after her surprise victory against Holly Holm.
Ronda Rousey and Holm are far more famous than the courageous 29-year-old Tate, but she holds the title and the keys to the division’s immediate future. She likely will fight Rousey for a third time next.
Tate is different from Diaz, but not in every way. She is not a Hollywood figure, either. She is a fighter beloved in MMA circles but little known outside of it. She likes a scrap but also enjoys simple pleasures, with a beer and a cupcake how she planned to celebrate choking out Holm in the final round.
There is an irony in all of this. For all the UFC’s attempts to make itself more mainstream and to ride on the back of its celebrity names, there seems to be an unseen magnetism pulling it back to its roots.
Rousey, seen as unbeatable as recently as November, has taken her time to recover and re-evaluate.
McGregor was gracing the cover of national and international magazines yet now must scurry back to 145 pounds and defend his featherweight title against a dangerous opponent in Jose Aldo or Frankie Edgar.
Holm, who did the talk show circuit after beating Rousey in November, wants to fight again quickly but likely must wait in line.
More than anything, UFC 196 will be remembered as the time when the UFC saw two of its biggest names cut down, taken out and choked by brawlers for whom the fight is everything and the celebrity add-ons are superficial and secondary. That is how UFC used to be and, for now at least, it is how the pendulum swings once more.