For Yoel Romero, the tainted supplement excuse works – kind of

Yoel Romero

We were promised a new era of anti-doping efforts once the UFC joined forces with USADA. Now it’s starting to seem like that’s exactly what we’re getting, and maybe in some ways we never expected.

Consider the case of Yoel Romero, the UFC middleweight contender who was branded a cheat after he failed an out-of-competition test shortly after his split-decision win over Ronaldo Souza at UFC 194.

Romero insisted that the failure was caused by a workout supplement he was taking, one which listed no banned substances among its ingredients. After a lab test confirmed his theory, USADA announced it had agreed to a six-month suspension, rather than the two-year ban that was previously on the table.

That’s a major difference for a man streaking up the middleweight ranks. Instead of being out until 2018, by which point he would have lost all momentum in the division, he’s now free to fight as soon as July.

He’s also got some ammunition with which to fire back at critics who looked at his failed test and his action figure physique and concluded that here was one drug cheat we probably should have seen coming.

But the outcome in this case is one that differs significantly from what we’re used to seeing in this sport. Romero is far from the first fighter to claim that a banned substance got into his body completely by mistake. He’s not even the first fighter to blame a specific supplement.

It’s just that usually this line of reasoning gets a fighter nowhere. We’ve seen it before, in state athletic commission hearings stretching back years. The way it usually goes is, the commission blames the fighter, then the fighter blames the supplement, then the commission reaches for that well-worn line about athletes being responsible for whatever they put into their bodies. End of conversation. Good day and enjoy your mandated vacation time.

That little dance has become so routine in MMA that we seem to have moved past any debate over whether it’s the right way to handle these things. Even if the supplement industry is a largely unregulated free-for-all, and it is, we expect fighters to know that and respond accordingly. We don’t expect them to actually get anywhere with the old tainted workout powder excuse, if only because so many have already tried and failed with that one.

That’s why USADA’s compromise, not to mention the relative ease with which the two sides arrived at it, seem borderline revolutionary while also seeming pretty sensible.

If you can prove that the exact substance you popped positive for was in the exact brand of supplement you were taking – a fact USADA said it confirmed by independently acquiring and testing an opened container of the same stuff – why shouldn’t you get some sort of break on the punishment side of the equation?

At the same time, that stuff about being responsible for what goes into your own body? That still has to mean something, right? A six-month suspension may serve as enough of a deterrent to make fighters think twice while in line at GNC, but it doesn’t ruin careers over honest mistakes. It makes USADA seem tough, but reasonable.

It’s not unprecedented to see a doping suspension reduced on appeal. The Nevada State Athletic Commission has done it, though at times the process for arriving at that outcome has seemed anything but scientific.

It does make you wonder, however, how Romero’s case will affect similar ones in the future.

Fighters in this sport have blamed drug test failures on everything from secondhand smoke to exotic sexual enhancement potions. Once you decide that there are some legitimate arguments to be made in favor of fighters being unwitting victims of contamination, then all that’s left to decide is where to draw the line on the required standard of proof. (Hint: Thai sex juice from your friend Marco probably isn’t ever going to cut it.)

One thing we can probably be sure of is that, after Romero found some success explaining away his failed test, we haven’t heard the last of the tainted supplement excuse. The UFC anti-doping policy with USADA contains language allowing that, in instances where fighters can prove that their failure was the result of contamination, they could potentially get off with just a warning.

Of course, the same policy notes that “it is not necessary that intent, fault, negligence or knowing use on the athlete’s part be demonstrated in order to establish an anti-doping policy violation for use of a prohibited substance or a prohibited method.”

In other words, just because it’s not your fault, doesn’t necessarily mean you won’t end up with the full punishment in the end anyway.

What remains to be seen is how gray areas like this will play in the court of public opinion. Cutting Romero’s suspension, while still hitting him with some form of penalty, sends the message that he screwed up, though not maliciously. It leaves him looking not quite exonerated, but not quite guilty either.

Suspensions can be reduced with the stroke of a pen. But a bruised reputation? That might prove tougher to heal. And as far as I know, they don’t make a supplement that speeds up the process.

For more on the UFC’s upcoming schedule, check out the UFC Rumors section of the site.