UFC 196 Fight Week Notebook: On the Ground for Conor McGregor vs. Nate Diaz

LAS VEGAS — On Saturday night, two of the UFC's mercurial superstars will square off in the main event of a pay-per-view that was hampered by injury and yet emerged somehow stronger than the original.

Conor McGregor, UFC featherweight champion, was scheduled to face lightweight champion Rafael dos Anjos in an attempt to become the first fighter to hold simultaneous UFC championships. Dos Anjos was injured, however, and the ultra-popular Nate Diaz took his place on short notice.

The co-main event features world bantamweight champion Holly Holm—fresh off her destructive win over Ronda Rousey in November—defending her belt against former Strikeforce champion and perennial Rousey rival Miesha Tate.

Bleacher Report Senior Writer Jeremy Botter is on the ground and reporting live from Las Vegas. In this ongoing fight-week notebook, he'll share stories and media snippets from the MGM Grand and surrounding areas as the Irish descend once again upon Sin City to support McGregor. Bookmark this post and stay tuned for updates on a daily basis.

4:53 p.m. PT

I've been told by sources close to him since December that Conor McGregor will never fight at 145 pounds again. The idea was that, after the Aldo fight—win, lose or draw—McGregor was done with the weight class. The strain of the cut was enormous, the toll on his body horrific each time. 

I believe that's the truth, and still is. I will be shocked if you ever see McGregor at featherweight again. And if you wonder why, one look at the below photo should be enough to help you understand. 

McGregor weighed in at 168 pounds today. He was smiling, dancing and happy. It was a far different look than the Irishman's usual weigh-in visage, which resembles something like Skeletor on a crash diet. Today, there was only joy.

And tomorrow, I think you'll see it pay off with an even better performance than we imagine. McGregor by knockout in the first round. 

Friday, 3:40 p.m. PT
UFC's Unstoppable event has a familiar feel

Photo by Jeremy Botter

The UFC has become quite adept at putting together singular launch events to announce a slew of upcoming fights. It's kind of like a television upfront, except fighters are paraded on stage for half an hour as fights are announced, one after the other, until the stage is filled with the next three months of UFC action. Well, headliners, at least. 

Today's event, dubbed "Unstoppable" by the marketing machine over on Sahara Avenue, was more of the same as previous events, yet different in one unique way: The McGregor Effect was felt. More specifically, it was the McGregor/Diaz effect, and it doesn't appear it will go away any time soon. 

Reporter questions, fielded over an impossible-to-hear sound system (and even more impossible screaming drunk fans), in most cases devolved into shouting matches between a fighter and his or her foe. There was a split screen up on the video wall showing both of them, shouting at each other, all trying to make a point but mostly just exploring expletive usage like a middle schooler. 

Mostly, it was Jon Jones and Daniel Cormier, who will face off next month for the title Jones never lost. Everyone loves a redemption story, and Jones appears to be on that sort of road, at least according to his public persona. Cormier, a fan of pro wrestling since childhood, has embraced the holier-than-thou heel role, and boos were cascaded on him today as he shouted back and forth with his foe, with only Dana White to separate them. 

Dominick Cruz and Urijah Faber. Chris Weidman and Luke Rockhold. Tony Ferguson, he of the flat matte glasses, even got into it with Khabib Nurmagomedov. Everyone did their best impression of McGregor and Diaz, the two men who will meet tomorrow night, and the two men who—in the span of just over a week—may have fundamentally changed the way  fighters promote themselves before upcoming bouts in the future. 

Next up? It's time for the weigh-ins. 

Thursday, 4:56 p.m.

Earlier today, I joined the boys from MMAjunkie Radio for an hour of fun MMA talk. 

The thing about Junkie Radio is this: These guys are special. I tend to hate doing radio, at least on a regular basis, but I always make an exception for George and Brian Garcia. They are two genuine people, and that's a rare thing. They're the kind of people who you never, ever hear a bad word spoken of, and rightly so.

I'm moving from Las Vegas to Austin soon, and my times on Junkie Radio are going to be cut back on significantly. That's one of the things I'll miss about this city: walking into their studio at the Mandalay Bay sports book, putting on the headphones and talking about fighting (and soccer, and other things) with George and Goze (Brian's nickname). 

Today, we were joined by another co-host: Artem Lobov, Conor McGregor's main training partner and UFC lightweight. Artem was great. He's an incredibly nice guy, and a funny co-host with plenty of stories to tell about Conor (obviously) and life in the various countries he's lived in. 

But my main takeaway from today's hosting duties? A bit of sadness. Co-hosting MMAjunkie Radio on such a regular basis has been an honor for me, and I'll miss it. But mostly, I'll miss seeing George and Goze as often as I've had the honor of seeing them. 

If you're in Las Vegas this week, I urge you to drop by the Mandalay Bay sports book from 10 a.m. to noon. Hang out, talk fights and watch two of the best men in this sport do their thing.

Thursday, 4:20 p.m.

There aren't as many Irish traveling this time around, but they are still boisterous. And creative, as you can see from the photo below.

Photo by Jeremy Botter

Thursday, 1:50 p.m. PT
Media conference nearly devolves into violence

Late, again. 

As I noted yesterday, Conor McGregor is a man who operates on his own time. Rarely is McGregor's time even close to a promised time. Yesterday, he was over one hour late. Today at 1 p.m., when a press conference was scheduled to begin over at the MGM Grand's David Copperfield Theater, McGregor and his team were just leaving his house roughly half an hour from the Strip.

He finally showed, on McGregor Time. The lack of timeliness—especially for a man wearing what he claimed is a $100,000 watch—was irritating but was immediately forgiven when McGregor started doing McGregor things on the dais. 

First, he said that he should have a podium alongside Dana White. It was yet another subtle suggestion that he should be co-promoting his fights with the world's biggest fighting promotion. 

McGregor then began unleashing a verbal barrage on Nate Diaz. It is such a rare thing for a Diaz brother to be a silent one, but that has increasingly been the case in the seven days leading up to this fight. Diaz tends to either fall back on his claim that McGregor has terrible training partners, or go into a hushed state altogether. 

McGregor repeated his mantra that Diaz should thank him for making him a millionaire in one night. It is an unsubstantiated claim, of course, but the idea of Diaz making more money on Saturday than he has in the rest of his career is not far-fetched. 

"All I want is a thank you," McGregor said. "Or a little dance. Dance for me, Nate. But don't look me in the eye when you dance." 

"There ain't nothing left to say," Diaz said. "It's time to f--king fight." 

And then, unsurprisingly, they almost did. As McGregor and Diaz came face-to-face for the traditional staredown after the conclusion of the media conference, things went a little haywire. Diaz thrust his fist into McGregor's face, McGregor punched it away, and the MGM quickly resembled the crazy scene between Jon Jones and Daniel Cormier from a year ago. 

Security pulled both men apart. And not just the two fighters involved, but their teams, as well. McGregor's ludicrous movement coach, Ido Portal, thrust his chest out and stared pointedly at Jake Shields, as though anything but a complete massacre would be the end result of that collision.

Finally, they all went behind the curtain, and we're left with this feeling: Saturday can't get here soon enough.

Brandon Magnus/Zuffa LLC/Getty Images

Wednesday, 6:20 p.m. PT
Conor McGregor, Larger than Life and Better than Ever?

Much has been made of Conor McGregor's nascent arrival as a legitimate superstar, and not just in the world of mixed martial arts. Dude was on the cover of Sports Illustrated last week. And I know what you're thinking: Sports Illustrated still puts out a print magazine? Magazines are still a thing that exist? 

They are, and they still matter, and McGregor's profile there is an important one. It shows he is connecting in different places than the usual hardcore MMA fan gene pool and perhaps even other locations than Ireland and Las Vegas. He is becoming a larger-than-life star, with the cars and the houses and the terribly ugly shirts that cost more than my own car, which admittedly is still a nice car. 

He is becoming a star in the worst of ways, too. The UFC's open workouts, designed as a fan event, had the fans waiting around for well over an hour before McGregor decided to show up, late as usual, on his own time, beholden to nobody but himself. And I mean, who can blame him? The man is an industry unto himself. There are UFC pay-per-view events and then there are Conor McGregor UFC pay-per-view events. One of them makes a whole lot of money, and the others pale in comparison to what they used to do in the good old days. 

When he finally deigned to grace everyone with his presence, McGregor was a force. At 145 pounds, he looked like the son of Skeletor and Cher, all skin and bones and gaunt faces. At 170 pounds, he is well-fed, powerful and has enough energy to do things besides stand on a scale and scream and terrify children with his sunken eyes. 

The thing is, 155 pounds was probably never the intended destination for McGregor. It was a stopover. From the way the man talks, it feels like the ultimate goal, the ending place of this vision he's had for so long, is the UFC Welterweight Championship. Judging by the way he looked on stage, perhaps the notion of the featherweight champion climbing into the cage against Robbie Lawler—as I predicted he would do—isn't all that crazy after all. 

Wednesday, 3:29 p.m. PT
Nate Diaz vs. the Irish Fans: A Taste of What's to Come

Each UFC fight week brings multiple chances for the working media to obtain enough material for the dozens of cookie-cutter stories seemingly required in the days approaching a fight.

The open workouts are not one of them. Sure, they are open to the media, and yes, we in the media attend them. But they are designed more as fan events, open to those hardy souls who travel early in the week to take part in every possible festivity provided for them by the promotion.

Today's UFC 196 workouts were no exception. Held in the small Jabbawockeez Theater (where the white-masked dance troupe performs a regular schedule), today's workouts were filled to the brim with fans and media. Most of them, as you might suspect, were there to either see Conor McGregor or to interview him, because McGregor just plain makes our jobs easier.

It is not easy to get him to adhere to anything resembling a schedule, though. He shows up when he wants and does what he wants. But when he does eventually show up, all you have to do is take notes. He gives you the words; you just have to do your part in turning them into something readable or "clickable," as so many of my brethren prefer these days.

Of course, it is 3:30 p.m.; McGregor was scheduled to show up an hour ago, and he has yet to arrive. 

It is usually McGregor who shoulders the heavy promotional load. This week, he has something of a willing partner in Nate Diaz, the mercurial Stockton, California, native who has a fierce and foul-mouthed following of his own. Diaz showed up on time for his 1 p.m. workout, and he did so while wearing his Reebok fight kit. And so right there, you have Diaz doing the unexpected, happily going along with the UFC's draconian wishes, being a professional and doing his job.

Oh, he still got on the microphone with workout host Megan Olivi and dropped a few f-bombs. He is a Diaz, after all, forever raging against the corporate machine even while being a part of it. But then he walked into the middle of a media scrum and held forth for 15 minutes, answering questions in what appeared to be a polite manner.

Photo by Jeremy Botter

I say "appeared to be" because, well, I couldn't hear anything. As I said before, the fans were waiting on McGregor, and they bided their time by singing and being loud. I tried to read Nate's lips, but he's never been known for the clarity of his speaking, so that was impossible.

I eventually gave up and walked outside the theater with an Irish media friend. We sat there talking about Saturday, about why so many tickets for UFC 196 are still unsold and about why the Irish fans are traveling in far smaller numbers for this event than for previous McGregor fights.

As we talked, Diaz and his entourage walked out of the theater, heading back to their rooms: Diaz, his man-mountain bodyguard, a few guys filming everything and other assorted hangers-on. And you know, you and I understand it might not be a good idea to be a stupid and confront a professional fighter when he's cutting weight and preparing for a huge fight. And you really don't want to do that when said fighter is a Diaz, because there's a good chance he won't have any qualms about beating you about your head and neck area in response.

Still, the Irish will do their thing, and one young man began screaming at Diaz. There was some singing and then screaming and then it became the same thing, all directed straight at Diaz. The Stockton kid smiled at first, and the Irishman decided to start using his big-boy words as Diaz turned and walked in the opposite direction. And Diaz smiled, but it was more of a grimace than a smile, and he held his hand up in the air and extended his middle finger in the direction of the scream-singing, then kept walking off to the lobby elevators.

The Irish haven't arrived en masse just yet, but when they do, the MGM will be the place to be. Trust me on this. I have covered so many UFC events that they are all mostly a blur, but a McGregor fight week is a special thing for those of us who enjoy people-watching. Throw in the volatile Diaz brothers and their wannabe fans, and you have a recipe for a flashpoint that could go off at any time.

It's fight week.