Risk & reward vs fear of failure
Wednesday 9 March 2016 23:16, UK
Conor McGregor and Ronda Rousey sat peerless as the unbeatable king and queen of the cage yet it is only now they have been exposed as mere civilians that they can prove their true greatness.
The UFC hotshots carried their sport on their shoulders, jostling for all-time records and finishing foes in quicker and quicker times. Street artists painted overbearing murals of their likeness in O'Connell Street and Venice Beach that looked protectively over the people of Dublin and California. But in recent times, McGregor and Rousey have been dealt harsh reminders that they have the same vulnerabilities as the rest of us.
Their fearsome reputations have been shattered by defeat, McGregor last weekend and Rousey in November. It will be of little solace to be reminded that even iconic boxer Muhammad Ali was knocked off his pedestal and forced to clamber back up, making him greater than ever before. McGregor, 27, and Rousey, 29, have ample time to recover but their polar opposite relationship with the idea of defeat begs an interesting question as to the best method of dominating a sport.
"Nobody knows what failure feels like more than I do and that's why I'm the person who walks in there willing to die in order to win," Rousey dramatically stated days before losing her world time and undefeated record to Holly Holm. Her intense fear of failure drove her to the top, yet McGregor joined her at the pinnacle by embracing risk and reward. "These things happen in MMA," he said last weekend after losing to Nate Diaz after voluntarily fighting 25lbs higher than usual. "I took a chance and it didn't work out." But whose approach will see them re-emerge?
They have both suffered crushing defeats prior to their UFC prime. Rousey, the daughter of America's first judo world champion, followed her mother's sporting example but failed to win gold at the 2008 Olympics after a lifetime of preparation. Just two months earlier McGregor lost his third pro MMA fight by submission, a skill-set he previously had no interest in. That summer, two future fighting greats walked out of their respective gyms and slammed the door shut behind them.
"He was only 20 when he lost the first time," McGregor's striking coach Owen Roddy told Sky Sports. "He went missing for a while, it was a hard loss for him. It was in Crumlin and there was a lot of support for him. He gave up training for nearly a year but then came back, realising he couldn't just go out with the lads."
Rousey's Olympic coach Jimmy Pedro told Sky Sports: "She was tired of judo, didn't want to grind for another four years before the next Olympics, and wanted something bigger. In judo she got a decent amount of wins by armbar but she couldn't do it to everyone. She wasn't a gold medal winner in every event. She never won the world championships. In the Olympics, she took a bronze once. But she wasn't dominating the major events."
Perhaps a telling sign that McGregor and Rousey's fate would be to headline million-dollar Las Vegas events is the way they failed to adapt outside of the gym. The Irishman has told of his misery at waking up at dawn to work as a plumber, while Rousey's autobiography details difficulties as a barmaid whose Olympic medal was of little use. On opposite sides of the Atlantic, a pair of troublesome early-twentysomethings still hadn't found their calling. McGregor had to be begged back into the gym by concerned coaches, while Rousey's judo coach Pedro remembers she "rebelled against her mother - she wasn't disciplined like she is today".
Further significant setbacks would await both, years before their defeats on the UFC stage. McGregor eventually stumbled back into the Straight Blast Gym, where he still calls home, but lost another fight by submission in 2010. "After his second loss he was more mature," said coach Roddy. "He came back to the gym the following week to correct his mistakes. From then on, he was open to every aspect of the game. Anywhere he felt lacking, he focused all his time there. Instead of shying away he threw himself in at the deep end. He went over to Iceland to train his ground game and came back more Zen."
There has never been anything Zen about the fierce Rousey who, around the same time as McGregor's second loss, spent months grafting for acceptance at the Glendale Fighting Club who were skeptical of a woman in a man's world. Her first MMA fights were won at a canter, but at a time when women in the cage were consigned to the underground. Money remained tight for both McGregor and Rousey in those days but they believed, for different reasons, in a distant dream.
"My goal is to be the best version of myself that is possible - and the best version is the greatest fighter of all time," McGregor told Sky Sports in January 2015 after four UFC wins. "When a guy like me comes along with the number of people that I bring with me, everyone else has to step aside. I feel like a veteran now. I have found comfort in this circus. I find comfort in the uncomfortable."
But Rousey never allowed herself to be comfortable, even after pioneering females in the UFC and becoming an undefeated, inaugural women's champion. While McGregor grew through the knowledge of defeat, Rousey was motivated by the horror of repeating her failures. "There are only a few people who truly hate losing more than they enjoy winning," Rousey's ex-coach Pedro remembered. Two opposite approaches met in a cacophony of sporting triumph throughout 2014 and 2015, and the money and fame followed. Life was good at the top - Rousey was cast in multiple Hollywood blockbusters, McGregor revelled in designer suits driving Rolls-Royces. But when the cage locked, they could fight, and they reminded us frequently of their own brilliance.
"I've endured the worst losses possible," Rousey said in November before fighting Holm. "I lost the finals at the [judo] world championships when I wanted to be world champ like my mother. My dream since I was a little kid was to win at the Olympics and I failed twice. For every other girl in the division, it's easier for them to lose and go home with a pay check. I've lost enough in my life." That startling reality-check came after three previous opponents had lasted a total of 64 seconds.
Rousey lost by knockout to Holm and has retreated from public life ever since. The appearances in Hollywood were limited to one Saturday Night Live hosting gig, while criticism poured in from everybody from Donald Trump to Justin Bieber while she laid low. It seems typical that Rousey's defeat, amid her mother's criticism of her coach and a refusal to travel to the fight in Australia, seems catastrophic while McGregor's last weekend feels like a bump in the road.
McGregor has avoided castigation for refusing the pre-fight touch of gloves, while an identical act saw Rousey hammered by US Presidential candidate Trump. Perhaps Rousey's fear of failure strikes closer to home than the brave dice-rolling that led to McGregor's loss.
Their returns to the Octagon, as with their lives and careers, will follow different paths. The UFC have lost the two unbeatable, all-conquering machines that defined their sport but the humanisation of the beatable McGregor and Rousey makes their journeys to legendary status even more admirable.