Issue 093

October 2012

Just one week after July’s blockbuster UFC 148: Silva vs Sonnen II event, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit deflated. And the worst part of that revelation for me? The fact that it had nothing to do with the action that unfolded in the cage.

I must admit, I’m tired of talking about testosterone replacement therapy. But as UFC 148 proved, the issue isn’t going anywhere soon. Sure, we all knew what we were getting into with Chael Sonnen’s rematch of Anderson Silva. We knew that the gangster from West Linn, Oregon, was going to need approval from the Nevada State Athletic Commission to inject himself with what is, according to his physicians, a life-saving treatment. And we knew Sonnen was to be subject to an additional battery of tests both pre and post-fight to prove his levels of testosterone were never outside allowable limits. What we didn’t know was Forrest Griffin was simultaneously undergoing the same procedures.

I don’t necessarily blame Griffin for undergoing TRT. At 33 years old and on the tail end of a potentially Hall of Fame career that has seen the longtime fan favorite briefly wear the UFC’s 205lb title, fight through a memorably trilogy with Tito Ortiz and play a major role in putting MMA on the mainstream’s radar with his epic first clash with Stephan Bonnar, Griffin is simply looking to utilize any and all legal methods of maintaining a competitive edge in an ultra-competitive sport. Right now, the treatment du jour is TRT and, according to the NSAC, Griffin did everything required to ensure he was using the treatment as medically prescribed and not as a means to cheat. Yet, it still doesn’t sit right.

When Alistair Overeem tested positive for an elevated testosterone-to-epitestosterone ratio, the MMA world hardly batted an eye. The hulking specimen of a heavyweight has been labeled a cheater for so long, it was almost as if the MMA world was just relieved to finally have an answer to their yearning curiosity. And when Sonnen was found to have a high ratio following his 2010 fight with Silva, fans did seem both shocked and annoyed. But after two years of campaigning for his right to treatment, the outcry seemed to die. But when Griffin – the lovable, bumbling star of The Ultimate Fighter one – was revealed to have also been on TRT, the near-audible sigh from the MMA community was unanimous. The common reaction seemed simply to be, ‘Is everyone on this stuff?’

Perhaps it’s due to the frequency with which it seems we’re forced to discuss TRT, but my stance on it and other forms of performance-enhancing treatments is actually quite soft. The sacrifices MMA’s elite fighters put themselves through on a daily basis is incredible, and it’s not surprising to hear their bodies are starved for something to aid in the recovery process. But where is the line being drawn? And who is looking out for habitual line-steppers?

BJ Penn and Rory MacDonald each recently volunteered to undergo independent testing with the Voluntary Anti-Doping Association (VADA). Predictably, they each then shied away from participation when VADA refused to withhold the results of their findings until after the fight. While it’s unfortunate, it’s also completely understandable, as is UFC president Dana White’s hesitation to lend complete support to VADA before the sport’s biggest promotion has done exhaustive research on the non-profit organization and both its members and motivations. Put simply, the UFC did not get to its current status by trusting anyone who walked forward with promises of assistance, and millions upon millions of dollars could potentially rest on the test results associated with each cup of urine. Imagine if the Culinary Union got hold of one of those!

But someone, somewhere has to step up and decide what is right and what is wrong. Athletic commissions have proven incapable of working together to develop a uniform code, as both fragmented personal beliefs and inconsistent operating budgets have forced states to adopt what simply works best for them – a standard that, quite simply, cannot go on. 

The UFC simply can’t be asked to police themselves if fans are really interested in a fair and consistent process. While cost isn’t necessarily an issue for the highly profitable entity, operational execution would be, especially for a staff that is already overworked on a daily basis. Besides, how vigilant can any organization be expected to remain if they’re left to their own device? And government oversight? Please.

Ironically, it may be the fighters who are capable of deciding what’s best for them. Unions have long been discussed as a means to protect the athletes’ interest in terms of fighter pay, medical care and other hot-button topics. Perhaps it’s time for them to band together in hopes of creating a global standard for PED testing. After all, every fighter deserves to know they’re stepping into the cage on a level playing field with their opponent. Let the fighters determine what the dimensions of that field will be, and let the UFC assist in the financial backing of the program. After that, everyone can play ball, and hopefully no one walks away deflated.

By John Morgan, former Fighters Only World MMA Awards ‘Journalist of the Year’