It could be argued that modern sport’s greatest threat is the plague of doping scandal and mistrust. The UFC’s comprehensive approach sets an impressive benchmark for competition fans can believe in.
Picture this for a second. You are in a plush IAAF boardroom, tucked away somewhere in Monaco, and a seething Sebastian Coe is at loggerheads with one of his senior members of staff.
Lord Coe rises, menacingly unbuttons his tailored shirt and declares that the only way to resolve this dispute is by staging an impromptu jujitsu match of three five-minute rounds.
UFC Anti-Doping Efforts Blaze Trail for Clean Competition
Now I urge you to drag your mind back from Lord Coe’s beguiling athletic form to reality.
And bizarrely this boardroom bout scenario could become reality for the billionaire owners of the UFC, Frank and Lorenzo Fertitta.
The brothers from Las Vegas own an equal share in Zuffa -parent company of the UFC and their lawyer demanded the inclusion of a conflict-resolution clause when drawing up the ownership contract.
Dana White their UFC President would referee and to the victor the spoils, in this case the other brother’s 50% stake.
Ridiculous? Possibly. Unconventional? Absolutely. But the sport famously dubbed ‘human cock fighting’ by former presidential candidate John McCain is not limited by convention. The UFC are doing it differently and many of sport’s rusting governing bodies would not enjoy the irony that cage fighting sets the precedent for clean, trustworthy competition.
This is a sport exploding in popularity. The UFC broadcasts in 158 countries, commanded larger pay-per-view figures than the 2015 NBA finals and plants its female athletes on a level playing field.
It has rapidly veered from unpalatable blood-sport to something you can watch after Stacey Dooley investigates overweight bisexual vloggers on BBC 3.
So how exactly are the Fertitta brothers and White setting the UFC apart?
Doping seems a logical place to investigate. From Andy Murray’s suspicions about the ATP tour, to the Times’ allegations of widespread performance enhancing drugs in football, doping is never far from the back pages and in its infancy the UFC was frequently tarred with the same brush.
But in April 2015, the UFC offered a man called Jeff Novitzky carte blanche to draw up the most comprehensive anti-doping program in professional sports.
Novitzky has been dubbed the Eliot Ness of anti-doping and a glance at his CV tells you why. A 22-year career in federal law enforcement, followed by the busts of Barry Bonds and Marion Jones before he met his Al Capone, bringing down Lance Armstrong as FDA criminal investigator in 2010.
As the UFC’s Vice President of Athlete Health and Performance Novitzky has implemented a number of changes. The UFC’s 500-plus roster of athletes are now subject to testing on any day of the year, at any time or place with no notice given and both blood and urine samples collected.
A comprehensive education program has also been rolled out to give the fighters and their training team an opportunity to become familiar with the new protocols and banned substances. Novitsky’s measures are overseen by the World Anti-Doping Organisation and the UFC even has the authority to overturn punishments dished out by a State Athletic Commission when judged as inadequate.
The importance of catching drug cheats is somewhat elevated when the man or woman with the testosterone levels of a silverback gorilla is trying to punch you in the face.
So a fascinating Novitzky addition is the 24-hour phone line for fighters or trainers to call in with suspicions over certain opponents. By creating a culture of fear for drug cheats, not just in the consequences of a failed test but the ‘looking over your shoulder’ mental strain and worry, the risk of cheating must begin to outweigh the reward. That seems to be the cornerstone of Novitzky’s plan, incentivize staying clean to a point where dopers are unwilling to gamble.
Any anti-doping policy is worthless without the full support of its governing body. Crucially, the Fertitta’s are not only willing to pump millions into enforcing their plan but refuse to accommodate the sport’s superstars if caught.
There is an obvious temptation to look the other way when one of your golden geese fails a drugs test but Lorenzo Fertitta swatted that suggestion away:
“Some very high profile fighters, now have the potential to be caught. There could be major fights that fall out, but we are prepared to deal with that.”
“I think that the way this program was structured and the education process, we’re hopeful that there is a strong enough deterrent aspect to what we are doing here; that is very clear to every athlete on the UFC roster — and even an athlete who potentially believes they will be on the UFC roster in the future — that they cannot use any prohibited substance.”
Fertitta’s words back in June 2015 as the UFC announced its anti-doping strategy have been backed up by his actions since.
Recently Lyoto Machida, an old warhorse and well respected middleweight, found himself door-stepped by USADA officials prior to his bout scheduled on the April 16th fight card in Tampa Bay. Machida tested positive for a banned substance called DHEA and was instantly withdrawn from the potentially lucrative contest.
The UFC identified a glaring flaw in their business and through Novitzky and what he claims is ‘the most comprehensive anti-doping program in sport’, took impressive action. The shadow of mistrust and that clouded mixed martial arts is not unique. World athletics, tennis and perhaps even football would be well advised to take note that the bloodiest sport around, might also be the cleanest.
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