How Velasquez's latest tough break is, in some ways, a very lucky one for the rest of us

Cain Velasquez

The heart breaks for Cain Velasquez. So does the back, the shoulder, the knee.

Once the UFC heavyweight champ and prototype for the fighter of the future, he’s become more like MMA’s version of Halley’s Comet, zipping past every couple years and then vanishing back into the darkness of space.

Now he’s vanished once again, disappearing from the UFC 196 main event with a back injury he said he could no longer ignore. It’s the third time Velasquez (13-2 MMA, 11-2 UFC) has been booked against current champion Fabricio Werdum (20-5-1 MMA, 8-2 UFC). Only one of those fights held together, and it happened to be the one at which Velasquez lost his title.

It also happened to be the only fight he’s managed to go through with in the past two years, and owing either to the time away, the elevation, or just the caliber of his opponent, he didn’t bear more than a passing resemblance to the Velasquez we used to know and love. That’s why this rematch with Werdum seemed so intriguing. It promised the return of “sea-level Cain.” Instead, we get “injury-withdrawal Cain,” which is, sadly, the one it seems like we’ve gotten to know the best.

On the bright side, it could have been worse. That’s true in a couple different ways.

For instance, say Velasquez would have pushed through this injury and showed up to rematch Werdum as planned. You know he must have been tempted. Both Velasquez and his coaches at AKA are well aware of the perception of him as a frustratingly fragile and rarely healthy heavyweight. The gym has taken heat from UFC President Dana White, who blamed its “stone-age” training techniques for Velasquez’s frequent injuries.

And even if Velasquez wasn’t the least bit concerned with the reputations of himself and his coaches, you know he’s got to be concerned with his own bank account. It’s hard to make a living as a fighter if you can’t make it into the cage on fight night.

The wording of Velasquez’s Facebook post announcing this withdrawal suggests that his initial plan was to fight hurt. Or anyway, that was the plan until it became all too clear that he was injured instead of hurt, and then good sense prevailed.

If it hadn’t, it’s hard to imagine that he would have done too well against Werdum, no matter the elevation. And if he’d lost a second time, and in an immediate rematch situation? Even in the relatively thin and aging UFC heavyweight class, that’s a recipe for getting locked out of the title picture.

It also probably wouldn’t have resulted in anything fans would want to see. As depressing as it is to fire up your Twitter and see that Velasquez has pulled out of yet another fight, it’s still better than paying 60 bucks to watch a guy who’s incapable of giving us his best.

And see, that’s the other way it could have been worse. In years past, losing one half of a heavyweight title bout a couple weeks out would have left the UFC choosing between a series of bad options. Even if you did have another heavyweight who made sense as a potential challenger, how often did you have one who was healthy and willing to take a short-notice crack at the champion? How often, especially in that division, could you book a replacement bout that’s arguably more interesting than the original?

That’s where the UFC, and its fans, got lucky. Imagine having a guy like Stipe Miocic waiting in the wings. He’s fresh off that knockout win over Andrei Arlovski, which was recent enough to give him plenty of momentum, yet quick enough to leave him utterly unscathed.

And you know Miocic (14-2 MMA, 8-2 UFC) is hungry for the title shot, so much so that he kind of terrified White and anyone else within earshot.

He’s also hungry enough to say yes to taking the biggest fight of his life on two weeks’ notice, which is just the kind of reckless ambition the UFC loves. What did we ever do to deserve such a lucky break? How did such a potentially terrible situation suddenly turn into such a good one?

Though, sure, it probably doesn’t feel that way to Velasquez right now. It probably feels like he’s being punished by vengeful MMA gods who are intent on forcing him to spend his athletic prime staring at the inside of an MRI machine.

Hopefully he remembers, even in this time when many fighters would indulge in at least a little self-pity, that it could have been worse. For fans and for the UFC, it could hardly have been better.

For more on UFC 196, check out the UFC Rumors section of the site.