It’s a hot night in San Francisco in 2004. The Fillmore Auditorium is abuzz with laughter.
People wipe away tears and roll in the aisles as stand-up comedian Dave Chappelle knocks it out of the park, perhaps akin to a PED-pumped Barry Bonds a few miles down the road.
At one point Chappelle gets reflective. He looks to the floor and speaks to his audience, but also seemingly to no one in particular: “I don’t trip off of being a celebrity. I don’t like it. I don’t trust it.”
It feels like a throwaway line at the time, but within a couple of months he disappeared to South Africa and remained largely gone from public consciousness until earlier this year, when he re-emerged on Saturday Night Live.
Who knew such a subtle moment of poignancy from a decade ago would inform the actions of the biggest mainstream star in mixed martial arts today?
Yet it has, because with her return now hours away, it’s apparent Ronda Rousey no longer trusts fame either.
Rousey has been a ghost in the lead-up to her chance to reclaim the UFC bantamweight title she iconically lost to Holly Holm last year. She formally negotiated an exemption from media engagements as part of her return and has used it liberally, refusing to talk to anyone other than Ellen DeGeneres and UFC owner Conan O’Brien (yes, you read that right—UFC owner Conan O’Brien).
This comes after a 13-month hiatus from public life, where her movie career grew increasingly shaky and her MMA career was reduced to a concept. Her name was mentioned occasionally, but her face was never seen nor were her words ever heard. Her involvement in promoting UFC 207 consisted of one bizarre staredown with champion Amanda Nunes and a self-indulgent trailer that even noted Rousey acolyte Joe Rogan thought to be excessive.
No pressers.
No open workout.
No evidence she even existed up until weigh-ins.
Question about Rousey's media protest is whether it turns into a mainstream story. And that depends on whether mainstream accommodates her.
— Luke Thomas (@SBNLukeThomas) December 24, 2016
It’s all unprecedented, another indicator of stars increasingly taking the game away from the promotion after the promotion gamed fighters for years. It also raises questions about favorable treatment and conflicts of interest, given that UFC majority owner WME-IMG is also a talent agency that represents Rousey.
Most importantly, though, the whole thing is representative of mishandling the promotion of a fight.
UFC 207 marks the return of one of the biggest stars in MMA, a return that should have the sport abuzz and garner attention from the mainstream that Rousey increasingly fancies herself a part of.
Nunes is a serious challenge who dominated on the massive stage of UFC 200 to win the belt, and there are potential fights awaiting with Holm and Cris Cyborg, who’s in trouble again but remains Rousey’s greatest foil.
However, we sit watching Conan lob softballs weeks out from the bout and that well-produced romanticization of Rousey’s return on YouTube instead of anything of substance.
No idea what she’s thinking.
No idea how training went.
No idea if she’ll even be able to find the arena considering it was completed during her exile and she might not have been in Vegas since.
Let’s be clear: Rousey doesn’t owe the media anything. Wanting to talk or not is entirely her prerogative. But radio silence is the type of behavior people called her on in the first place, leading to what she perceived as their turning on her after she lost her title—one of the reasons she disappeared for so long.
Furthermore, it’s hard to get people to part with their dollars when they have nothing to grab onto leading up to a bout. The game is built on emotion, and an athlete needs to make people care for them to pay out.
Look at Dominick Cruz and Cody Garbrandt in the co-main event (warning: Video contains NSFW language):
They bickered for months and became viral sensations thanks to a much publicized split-screen interview a few weeks back. People care about them now, and there’s no telling how many caught that exchange and are going to bolster the buy rate—and the number of zeroes on each man’s cheque—as a result.
Yet with Rousey, we’re in a realm where a superstar doesn’t trust fame and undertook to escape it. It left everyone wondering what the return would look like, what would be said and done and how she’d behave, and it empowered her to leave them wondering at the behest of any promotional efforts.
It’s been an egregious misstep, a concession in hopes Rousey brings in dollars when the UFC badly needs them. The rub is that that very concession could keep the promotion from maximally cashing in on her return, and the toothpaste is already out of the tube on controlling her future exposure.
You don’t have to like fame. You don’t have to trust it. But if you want to keep the money coming in for everyone involved, you’ve got to at least understand it and engage it when the time comes.
Even Chappelle did that much.
There’s no indication Rousey has or is willing to.
