How Nick Diaz, of all people, exposed the NSAC's flaws

Of all the people to emerge as the persecuted anti-hero proving once and for all the dreadful overreach of the Nevada State Athletic Commission, it had to be Nick Diaz. Because of course it did.

And of all the substances to serve as the catalyst for demonstrating that point, it had to be marijuana, of which Diaz is known to be a bit of an enthusiast. Because, apparently, the MMA gods have a sense of humor.

It’s ridiculous, when you think about it. After all the absurd excuses and explanations we’ve heard in NSAC hearings over the years, all the laughable defenses in the face of serious charges, and the one that would provoke the ire of the commissioners would be Diaz’s shockingly competent defense against accusations that he used a substance he is very well known for using.

Actually, maybe that makes a lot of sense, when you look at how the NSAC operates. Because while these hearings might at times mimic the look and feel of a court proceeding, that’s just a facade. It’s a game, really. The worst thing the accused can do is actually try to win that game, since it only makes the punishment worse in the end.

Diaz’s five-year suspension and $165,000 fine is proof of that. Had he shown up and gone through the motions of an apology, he might have gotten off much easier. This commission knows how to reward the good dogs who roll over and beg. When confronted with a meticulous, aggressive defense, such as the one Diaz’s legal team put forth, the NSAC commissioners can only respond with indignant annoyance. How dare anyone show them the disrespect of actually taking this stuff seriously.

Maybe the problem was that the commission itself was in no way prepared for this to be a fight rather than an execution. That made it a rather unfortunate time to confront attorney Lucas Middlebrook, who defended Diaz with a kind of stubborn pugnaciousness that almost made him seem like an alternate universe Diaz brother, the one who went to law school instead of to Cesar Gracie’s jiu-jitsu academy.

Middlebrook had his work cut out for him. Defending Diaz against a failed marijuana test is like defending UFC President Dana White against accusations of swearing in public. You hear the name and the charge, and you’re already halfway to a guilty verdict.

But with an expert witness (who, unlike the one employed by Anderson Silva’s team, actually seemed to possess some expertise) and a willingness to dwell at length on the excruciating minutiae of drug test collection and analysis, Middlebrook made a disarmingly strong case that, whether Diaz was blazing or not, maybe the NSAC didn’t legitimately catch him.

It’s just too bad for him that his talents were wasted on the NSAC, where what you can prove seems to matter less than what tone of voice you do it in.

The commissioners seemed to think that Diaz and his team were guilty of a lack of respect. That’s funny, since when Middlebrook objected to a question early on in the proceedings, it elicited an audible laugh from one NSAC official. As if to say, ‘Where does this guy think he is, a court of law?’ As if the only appropriate response to anyone expecting due process and an impartial review of the facts in a place like this is an attitude of amused derision.

Not that I don’t understand the urge to laugh. The whole thing – all this time, money, and energy poured into the question of whether a marijuana-loving fighter used too much marijuana or just the right amount of it – would be hilarious if it weren’t so tragic.

In slapping Diaz with a suspension five times longer than the one his steroid-using opponent got, the NSAC again demonstrated its willingness to make up the rules as it goes. It demonstrated that this regulatory body cares not so much about justice or fairness as it does about asserting its own authority, then laying the smack down on anyone who dares to question it.

That might work just fine within the confines of an NSAC hearing, where the commission gets to play the game while also serving as its referee and scorekeeper. But in an actual court, where we seem to be headed, it doesn’t work that way. Turns out there’s a very good reason for that, and it’s not because the other way was deemed too effective.