Fighters Only

Issue 134

November 2015

Self-styled ‘Sith Lord’ Ronda Rousey admits to being powered by dark forces – but the queen of MMA is changing the sport for good

Ronda Rousey is adamant. “I’m a bad guy,” she insists. There are deep, dark, driving forces within her. And in fairness, 11 opponents in a cage would bear witness to that. The seemingly impregnable 28-year-old UFC women’s bantamweight champion equates this fighting alter-ego to a Sith Lord, a fictional character from the Star Wars movie franchise who drew upon the dark side of the force to gain power.

Now, if Rousey didn’t say this herself, it would seem harsh. Look at what she’s achieved in such a short space of time, both inside and outside the Octagon. But to succeed as an elite fighter, perhaps that dark side has to be there somewhere, struggling to wriggle out, a means of moving towards the greatness a warrior seeks, and a deeper sense of fulfillment. Yet that dark desire to succeed seems to be there in everything Rousey does. It began as a child, she tells Fighters Only.

“Star Wars was one of those movies I would watch, rewind and then watch it all over again growing up,” Rousey reveals. “I was obsessed with it. But I’m a Sith Lord, I’m not a Jedi Knight. Jedis are the good guys. I’m a bad guy. Anger, fear, aggression, the dark side. Those are the things that really do motivate me. I’m motivated by spite more than anything else, and that’s a dark side feature.”

Role model

Rousey’s journey towards greatness is expanding and now has a collective theme. She has become a beguiling force as a ‘dark’ angel, calling herself an anti-hero, but receiving accolades everywhere. Women are turning towards the athlete/fighter/actress as being emblematic of change.

And Rousey has as many male admirers, as we know so well. With every move and every movie, Rousey, perhaps in her own ‘bad-ass’ way, has become a greater power through her filmic profile and athletic fame. In whatever order you list them.

But she’s also admired by women across the world as the tough female who opens herself up to her emotions. She embraces that sisterly envelope. “We should be in every job,” she says. “There should be women astronauts, women soldiers, women presidents, women surgeons and women fighters because why the f**k not? It should be like that everywhere.”

So from where does this emanate, if not a galaxy far, far away? Rousey has a clear, concise, earthy response. “It comes from being an Olympic athlete. I perform above myself when I’m under pressure. I was never raised to be one of those dojo fighters who beat up everyone in practice and then break at the biggest competitions.

“That’s why I’ll purposely paint myself into a corner so there’s no way out. I have to win. There’s no other possibility that can be entertained. That’s part of the reason why I talk so much s**t.”

Through 12 MMA victories, powering through opponents, she’s now a revolutionary, on a journey that began after dropping the Olympic rings seven years ago. “You can’t make a career out of (an Olympic medal), yet so many people devote their lives to it. They have no education, no experience and they have a load of medals that do jack s**t for them. That’s the realization I came to after I got home from the Olympics.

“I’ve got an Olympic medal and no one gives a s**t. It’s a dead-end career. You dedicate your life to winning an Olympic medal and all you get is a shake of the hand, a kick in the ass. That’s it.”

Don't be a DNB

Then the dark side creeps out again. “If I was just angry and full of energy, that’s trouble waiting to happen. That’s how you get into fights you don’t get paid for. That’s how you get into fights that cost you money. I’ve always been a machine. How do you think I get so much done?”

Time and again, if you go back to the roots of fight in Rousey, it was her mother who is the pivotal figure, who raised her not to be a “DNB” (do nothin’ bitch) according to the fighter herself. Rousey’s mother, AnnMaria DeMars, a former world judo champion herself, had imagined Ronda would be the first American woman to win an Olympic gold medal in the sport. She was the guiding light at the beginning, and she is there with her now on the journey, as much as head coach Edmond Tarverdyan, mentor ‘Judo’ Gene LeBell or the rest of her fighting ‘family.’

It’s a broad support network, but nowhere is the voice of Rousey echoed as much than through her mother, arguably an equally remarkable woman. AnnMaria has a little laugh at the mention of her daughter comparing herself to a Sith Lord, when I explain it to her. “If someone is built up as a hero, they have to be perfect. They can’t drink, they can’t talk s**t. Ronda doesn’t drink a lot, she doesn’t do drugs, but she might want to go and have a local drink when she’s finished a fight,” she says.

“If you’re supposed to be the perfect hero and you have a drink after a fight, they say, ‘Oh my God.’ That’s a little extreme. Everybody does stupid things from time to time. If you put yourself out there as the perfect little girl next door, you’ve got to live up to it. If someone bothers you, you can’t tell them to go f**k themselves. You’ve got to be a good, passive girl. Part of it is not wanting to have a fake image of being perfect.

“Ronda’s really smart. People have often underestimated that about her. She was always a good student and a good artist. She’s more than just a good athlete. She’s always had that inside her. I would have expected her to get a PHD in science or something more than I expected her to be a fighter.”

Mother knows best

Rousey on her mother is a fascinating study. You can hear that they have worked through their journeys together, clearly interlocked, underpinned by a shared philosophy. “My mom was against me doing judo at first, because she felt people would expect too much from me given who she was and what she had achieved in the same sport. It was actually her teammates, who were my coaches at the time. That persuaded my mom to let me do it. Six years later I made my first Olympics team. I really had a knack for it.”

Thus, Rousey didn’t feel any more pressure because of the fact her mother was previously involved in the sport. Instead, she embraced it. “If anything, I’m the one that puts pressure on myself when it comes to aspiring to reach a goal,” she explains. “I don’t feel right unless there’s some element of pressure there. You need that in order to bring the best out of yourself, I think.

“The whole reason I focused on judo to begin with was so that I could one day reach the Olympic Games and win a gold medal. That was literally my aim from day one, and nothing else crossed my mind from that point on. I wasn’t interested in being involved in judo to become a mere also-ran. Even after my very first practice, I remember thinking to myself, ‘Yep, this is going to work out – I’m going to win the Olympics, no problem.’ It was all or nothing for me, and I’m sure my mom shared a similar attitude when she first started out in the sport.”

DeMars describes that time from her perspective: “Some parents want their kids to win more than what the kid wants. In Ronda’s case it was what she wanted and because it was something that I’d done – and at the time in the US I was the only person who could show her what she needed to do. One of the things I did early on was get involved in the detail.”

Tears for souvenirs

Another fascinating aspect of Rousey is her willingness to be an ‘over-sharer’ with her feelings and emotions. It has made her more of a trash-talker, more human, and ergo, a more compelling promoter. Her mom says there were often tears with a young Ronda too, but they were “another form of her expression.”

Rousey quotes the American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson: “‘Tears are words waiting to be written.’ I was the youngest, I was the kid that got beaten up on in the house. I always felt free to cry. I expressed myself through crying. For the first six or seven years I did judo I cried every single practice because I was frustrated.”

But here’s the rub: “I would never cry if I got hurt. I’d be fighting someone, and they could be 40lb heavier than me, but if I couldn’t throw them I’d start crying about it. Even (current UFC bantamweight) Manny Gamburyan. He was this big, tough dude but if I couldn’t throw Manny, I would cry about it.

“I cried because I cared. It’s just a way I have of expressing myself. People are like, ‘Oh, you cry too much. You’re a crybaby.’ And I’m like, ‘I’m the toughest motherf**king bitch on the planet. I can cry all I want.’ I’ll cry and look badass. And I’ll beat anyone’s ass.”

It’s an extraordinary passion. But it’s comprehensible as a philosophy. If at first you don’t succeed, cry, cry and cry again, was the Rousey mantra.

Best of the best

Just a couple of years ago, Rousey felt women’s MMA was “constantly on the brink of fading into obscurity.” Some might say that as a result of her own tears, sweat and success, that has changed immeasurably. Now, she’s leading the revolution.

“I leave myself open to all eventualities and possibilities. I never try and sight an end goal or keep things regimented and strict. My whole judo career was based around experimentation and improvisation, and the creativity of that sport was something that attracted me to it in the first place,” she adds.

“I see a lot of the same stuff in mixed martial arts, and that’s also one of the reasons why MMA appealed so much to me. I don’t want anything to be planned or structured for me when I step into that Octagon.

“I make up moves in fights that I have never even practiced or attempted before in training. That flying arm-bar thing I did against Sarah D’Alelio was something I had never, ever done before in my life.”

That’s the greatest thing about Rousey, always pushing, always developing, always evolving. That, and the fact that she views herself as a Sith Lord. Ronda Rousey might see Darth Vader in the mirror, but in the real world, the extraordinary athlete, fighter and woman is a force for good. Just whisper it to her.

Villains are just more fun: GSP loves the dark side

It seems that Ronda Rousey isn’t the only superstar of MMA who’s seduced by the dark side of the force. Former welterweight champion Georges St Pierre recently revealed that he too is much more of a fan of the bad guys than the heroes.

‘Rush’ said: “As much as I try to be a good role model and a nice guy, my favorite fighters are always the bad guys. I like the villains. It’s like in Star Wars: I like the Sith Lords better than the Jedi, they’re way more charismatic.”

Female power player: Rowdy #8 on Forbes list

According to Forbes’ 2015 Richest Women in Sport list, Rousey banked $6.5 million in fight pay and endorsements from June 2014 to June 2015, coming eighth on a list dominated by professional tennis players.

Rousey reportedly made $3 million in fight purses and $3.5 million in endorsements while repping sponsors Reebok, Metro PCS, Monster headphones, Buffalo David Bitton and Carl’s Jr.

Rousey’s biggest test: Fan poll calls for Cyborg

Challenging Ronda for the UFC bantamweight championship belt is the hottest ticket in MMA, but can anybody truly test her in the Octagon? Miesha Tate, Sara McMann and Cat Zingano are among the leading 135lb females who have tried and failed to end Rousey’s reign already, and according to you, the only other name to tick off that hit list is current Invicta featherweight champ Cris ‘Cyborg’ Justino.

We polled you, the FO readers on social media, to see who you think would be the toughest challenge for the champ. Demand for her next challenger, former boxing world champion Holly Holm, was way short of the top two.