The Biggest MMA Turkeys of 2016
This is the time of year when turkeys start to feel nervous. Don't be afraid only for the literal ones, which are killed and eaten en masse, but also for the metaphorical ones who face the chopping block of negative connotation.
Now is the time when we celebrate all that stuff. And we're no different here in the MMA corner of the universe. I mean, we're different, just not Thanksgiving different.
That is why, forthwith, we shall identify the MMA turkeys of 2016: people who set a low bar, failed to meet that bar, set a lower one and so on. These guys and gals aren't up for pardon, either, if you get my reference. Fighters, executives, bureaucrats and charlatans—no one in MMA is safe!
Several writers came together to do this on your behalf. Chad Dundas. Josh Gross. Nathan McCarter. Steven Rondina. And myself, Scott Harris. Ready? Let's get it on.
CM Punk
1 of 5
Look, we fully understand that picking CM Punk (real name: Phil Brooks) as one of 2016’s biggest turkeys is the journalistic equivalent of smashing a home run during your kid’s T-ball game and then taking a fist-pumping victory lap. On the Venn diagram where two circles labeled “UFC fighters” and “turkeys” overlap, Punk is surely the lowest-hanging fruit.
Including him here seems borderline unfair—cruel, even—after his professional MMA career all but imploded on its launch pad at September’s UFC 203.
Then again, could we really curate a respectable recounting of this year’s turkeys and not include Punk? That’d be like making a list of the worst candy bars and omitting Almond Joy. Not gonna happen.
But let’s try to do this as humanely as possible. We’re not mad at Punk for trying his hand at legitimate fighting after wrapping up a lengthy career as a professional wrestler in 2014. From a purely theoretical standpoint, we understand the urge.
We’re also not mad that he did so by jumping straight to the UFC. If the bigger picture of 2016 in the Octagon made anything crystal-clear, it’s that everyone is always going to do whatever makes the most money.
And throwing a 38-year-old former professional wrestler with a modicum of fame but zero previous competitive athletic experience straight into the fire definitely falls into that category.
The problem, though, was that it turned out to be an entirely predictable disaster.
Punk got rolled by Mickey Gall in his Octagon debut, succumbing to an embarrassing first-round TKO after two minutes and 14 seconds of lopsided action.
This was the only way it was ever going to go. Gall, after all, was a legitimate pro prospect. Punk, meanwhile, was trying to jump into the deep end of a grueling sport during the twilight of an already taxing physical life.
In order for him to avoid being undressed by Gall he was going to have to turn out to be some kind of otherworldly prodigy. A once-in-a-generation talent. A complete anomaly in the landscape of professional sports.
Of course, he wasn’t any of those things.
He was just the world’s oldest rookie out there trying to do his best—and it showed.
Gall easily took him down during the first exchange of the fight, moved effortlessly to a dominant position and punched Punk about the head and shoulders until the he secured the tap out.
And that was that.
Punk took the beating like a true gentleman, and Gall was on to bigger and better things.
At least we all learned a valuable lesson, so now this sort of thing never has to happen again.
Right?
RIGHT?
"I told [UFC President Dana White] I want to fight again," Punk said during a recent appearance on The MMA Hour with Ariel Helwani (via MMA Fighting.com's Marc Raimondi). "We're back at it. We're back to the drawing board. So, it's up to him. He floated me an idea and we're kind of going back and forth on it right now."
Oooh, boy.
Pat Lundvall
2 of 5In Pat Lundvall's world, Pat Lundvall was judge, jury and executioner. If you tried something foolish, like "retaining counsel" or something like that, all bets were off.
The nine-year member of the powerful and influential Nevada State Athletic Commission—she departed the commission this fall—happens to be an exceptionally talented attorney during the day. But when the darkness fell, she became something different. Someone who maybe sometimes didn't like the sports or people she was helping to regulate. Someone who ran a tricky agenda item as if it were the next episode of Lundvall: Athletic Commissioner.
Lundvall has been well-known to fighters and hardcore fans—not always fondly (warning: language NSFW)—for quite some time now. But she's a turkey this year for reasons that begin in the fall of 2015.
That September, Lundvall took up a bunch of everyone's time to prove a point to a certain galactically popular fighter named Nick Diaz, who had been advised by his lawyer to take the fifth in response to every question at a disciplinary hearing.
Well, nothing escapes Lundvall. She noticed and, to put this uppity fighter and his notions of fairness in their place, asked him a bunch of silly questions like "are you a UFC fighter?"—you know, just to mess with him. See what she did there? Oh, and she and the rest of the commission suspended Diaz for five years for a positive marijuana test. (The punishment was reduced in early 2016 and is a whole other story.)
This was just the warm-up, though. Fast-forward from last fall to this one, and there's Lundvall leading the charge against Conor McGregor, demanding he be banished to Antarctica or something for throwing a plastic water bottle during a press conference. McGregor was ultimately fined $150,000 and given 50 hours of community service “to be taught a lesson” and “humbled as it relates to dealing with the public,” as Lundvall said.
Those punishments were so over-the-top, so not based in anything concrete, that Matt Connolly at Forbes, among others, called the NSAC a "kangaroo court."
I know what you're thinking, and you're right. Pretty compelling stuff. So impressive, in fact, that, as Lundvall leaves this life of MMA justice-meting, you may hear a faint gobbling sound, being made by me. Happy Thanksgiving, Pat, and bon voyage!
—Scott Harris
Dana White
3 of 5
Dana White wasn't just any kind of turkey this year. He was a jive turkey.
For those who weren't raised on reruns of The Jeffersons, Urban Dictionary defines "jive turkey" as the following: "One who speaks as though they know what they're talking about...though they do not. A bulls-----r...used to refer to someone who was unreliable, made empty promises or who was full of bluster."
Obviously, White has always been a bit of a jive turkey in the sense that he lies frequently. That just comes with the territory in fight promotion. But in 2016, the fibbing has been so frequent and so unignorable that answers to even the most basic questions need to be thoroughly scrutinized.
The calendars turned with proclamations of Conor McGregor vacating the featherweight title and Ronda Rousey being booked for an immediate rematch with Holly Holm. Neither of these things came to pass.
Chatter of the UFC being up for sale began in March. Reports that the deal was nearly done came in May. Vehement denials from White followed shortly thereafter, and gave way to thinly veiled threats of legal action. The sale was finalized in July.
Rumors of a Brock Lesnar return began swirling in May when he was added to UFC.com's active fighter database. When ESPN.com's Brett Okamoto asked White about this, he gave a long-winded explanation that it was the result of a technical error by the website team. Lesnar's return was confirmed a few days later in a trailer for UFC 200.
The list goes on, but it's not just all those burned pairs of pants that make White, probably, the biggest turkey of 2016. What sets him apart, as the definition reads, are his blusterous, empty, unreliable promises.
In White's world, Jon Jones isn't guaranteed to main event his next show. McGregor is going to give up one of his two titles. Rousey wants to fight Cris Cyborg.
In reality, though, Jones is, McGregor won't and Rousey doesn't. And in reality? White's jive just sounds like gobbling to me.
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Edmond Tarverdyan
4 of 5Is there a bigger turkey than Edmond Tarverdyan?
We can always cite Ronda Rousey’s stagnated boxing technique and her coach's inability to produce any other aside from her to the elite ranks. Rousey got to her spot by anything other than what Tarverdyan taught her, and the only strides she made in her stand-up came after working with Richard Perez years ago.
Alas, what makes this doofus a turkey in 2016? Let’s travel back to UFC 203 in Cleveland (see video).
Following another awful performance by Travis Browne, who Tarverdyan has been training for a couple of fights, he began running his mouth in the cage to Fabricio Werdum and his team. Werdum, in an unprofessional but certainly understandable manner, push kicked Tarverdyan away. Mayhem and confusion ensued.
Sitting cageside, I had little idea what was going on. I just knew a brouhaha transpired and Tarverdyan was being escorted past media row while still jawing at the cage. Whatever he said caught the attention of Rafael Cordeiro who tried to make a beeline toward the cage door, but UFC officials were they to stop him from going after Tarverdyan.
Tarverdyan has been detrimental to one of the most amazing fighters of our time and a true star, and he has never produced an elite talent of his own. Yet he acts a fool at almost every turn. Remember his nonsense on The Ultimate Fighter?
Sigh.
Fighters need to wisen up that he’s not an elite-level coach, nor does he act in a professional manner. He’s a plague on their careers both in and out of the cage, and that certainly makes him a turkey in 2016 following his UFC 203 hogwash.
Jon Jones
5 of 5
Jon "Turkey Bones" Jones gets no gravy or stuffing this year. Where to begin with the would-be best fighter in the UFC—you know, if he wasn't regularly sabotaging himself outside the cage?
Jones was supposed to fight Daniel Cormier in April for a chance to regain the UFC light heavyweight belt, but an injury forced Cormier out of the fight. In truth, it may have been a blessing in disguise. Jones was coming off a tumultuous 2015 fraught with a positive drug test for cocaine and a serious legal entanglement following a hit-and-run incident that left a pregnant woman with a broken arm.
Jones managed just one fight in 2016 (the same as 2015 and 2014), a plodding decision over Ovince Saint Preux, who stepped in for Cormier in April. While it wasn't particularly memorable, Jones still looked back on track, and his contest with Cormier was rescheduled to headline the blockbuster card, UFC 200, in July. Naah. Nope. Didn't happen.
Two days before the megaevent in Las Vegas, USADA revealed that Jones tested positive for two banned substances (estrogen blockers clomiphene and letrozole), and his contest with Cormier was scrapped.
Sigh.
Jones went on to claim a sexual enhancement pill was the culprit. An arbitration panel ruled that Jones failed to do his due diligence and his actions, while not overt cheating, were "imprudent" (i.e., dumb) and probably cost him $9 million. USADA suspended Jones the maximum term of one year, and he's ineligible to compete until July 2017.
The UFC stripped Jones of the light heavyweight interim title he won against Saint Preux, and Dana White told Jim Rome on the SiriusXM Town Hall (h/t Damon Martin of Fox Sports) the most talented fighter ever to appear in the Octagon couldn't be trusted to headline a pay-per-view card again.
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