Never in the history of MMA has a promotion been so reluctant to accept a contracted fighter’s stardom as the UFC was to accept that of Cris “Cyborg” Justino.
Obsessively selling the sport—both the male and females wings—as Ronda Rousey’s took plenty of time and money, and until she was blasted into obscurity by a Holly Holm head kick in November 2015, there was no room for anyone else.
Now, with Rousey gone for the better part of a year and with no return in sight, and with the bantamweight division she once ruled left in a state of flux, the UFC has been forced to accept that Rousey’s greatest foil might be the best female attraction it has got going.
So it goes that Cyborg is getting another UFC fight, and this time, she’s a headliner. If nothing else, the sport makes strange bedfellows sometimes.
When Rousey ruled the roost, Cyborg was forced to the margins as an afterthought. She was afraid to come to bantamweight. She didn’t deserve a title shot because she was a PED user. She was Wanderlei Silva in a dress.
People want to see me fight in the @ufc but the only girls who want to fight me fight at 145. I'm the most ducked fighter in wmma history
— Cris Cyborg (@criscyborg) July 23, 2016
Anything the UFC and its golden goose could concoct to downplay Cyborg as a legitimate threat—and make no mistake, she always was a legitimate threat to Rousey—was done, and it was done without morals or scruples or any particular degree of tact.
Even the most ardent pro-UFC folks couldn’t support the president, Dana White, slandering a female fighter for her appearance, and top Rousey boosters couldn’t honestly say they thought Cyborg would be a cakewalk if they’d ever seen her fight.
The Brazilian is a terror in the most complimentary sense of the word. She’s graceful in her barbarity, a perpetual masterclass of technique backed up by a stopping power that almost no one in the sport can match. She’s animalistic in how she stalks prey and finishes with swift, vicious flurries. It’s a gift; it’s beautiful to the eye that’s looking around the busted noses and bleeding faces it produces.
So with Rousey more Hollywood than haymakers, the UFC has given Justino a shot. She showed up in Brazil at a UFC event, made 140 pounds and made hamburger meat out of Leslie Smith in a minute flat.
People loved it.
She was instantly a hero in her homeland, producing Octagon thrills the nation hasn’t felt since the days of a TRT-infused Vitor Belfort punting heads into the Amazon like so many soccer balls lost at a Flamengo training session.
Now she’s going back, and she’s bringing a headliner’s hell with her.
The UFC recently announced she’d be the marquee name at UFC Fight Night 95 in Brasilia in September, the type of thing that’s bound to get her country worked into a lather. Anyone who likes short main events that are rich with carnage are probably happy too, as poor Lina Lansberg is the UFC debutant drawing the assignment as Cyborg’s sacrifice. Lansberg’s 6-1 against people you’ve never heard of, and unless she is made of cast iron, you can’t like her chances.
It leads one to the conclusion that the UFC finally, in spite of itself, may understand what it has in Cris Cyborg.
She’s among the most entertaining fighters in MMA, male or female, and she has the same aura of invincibility Rousey did—only it’s been maintained for twice as long. She can carry a card and people would watch all over the world, plus she bolsters a Brazilian market that’s been flagging and can’t possibly be looking up given the publicity surrounding the Rio Olympics.
It’s a good look for the UFC and for Justino. She can be the star the promotion always wanted, even if it didn’t want to acknowledge it had her.
