The world of professional mixed martial arts, particularly under the bright lights of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC), is a strange dichotomy. It is simultaneously a high-level athletic contest and a carefully curated theater of conflict. For some, mere victory is the goal. For the promotion, however, victory is just the price of admission; the real currency is spectacle.
This fundamental conflict was recently highlighted when UFC Welterweight and Lightweight Champion Islam Makhachev offered a remarkably candid, if brutal, reality check to his fellow Russian athlete, Rinat Fakhretdinov. The context: Fakhretdinov, despite an impressive run of seven fights without a loss inside the Octagon (bringing his professional record to 24-1-1), was unexpectedly not offered a new contract by the organization.
The Silence of Success: Fakhretdinov`s Unblemished, Unmarketable Record
Rinat ‘The Gladiator’ Fakhretdinov established himself as a dominant force in the welterweight division. His last performance, a swift 54-second knockout at UFC Paris, showcased his finishing ability and undeniable athletic prowess. Yet, after stacking wins with surgical precision, the expected contract renewal failed to materialize. This decision caused confusion among fans and analysts who subscribe to the traditional sporting metric: win, and you advance.
In a recent interview, Islam Makhachev, a figure currently enjoying immense success and holding two belts, pulled back the curtain on the corporate philosophy underpinning the UFC`s decisions.
“The UFC needs fighters they can sell, who can make money,” Makhachev stated bluntly. “Rinat would just go out there and win. The UFC doesn’t need guys who just beat everyone and stay quiet.”
Makhachev’s words serve as a definitive, if harsh, mission statement for anyone aiming for long-term relevance in the premier fighting promotion. It suggests that technical excellence, while appreciated, is secondary to the capacity for generating tangible revenue through public interest and theatrical narrative.
The Commerce of Combat: Beyond the Scorecard
The Dagestani champion elaborated, offering specific, practical advice that transcends athletic training:
“Learn English, learn how to sell yourself, learn how to be interesting to the public. They love the show. And because of that, you just need to learn how to put on a show.”
This instruction reveals a crucial, often unspoken truth: the UFC views its athletes as assets in an entertainment product. A quiet dominator, no matter how proficient, does not drive pay-per-view sales, generate viral soundbites, or incite the necessary emotional reactions required to turn a sporting event into a spectacle. The athlete must not only be elite but also be a self-marketing phenomenon.
For Fakhretdinov, whose fighting style prioritizes efficiency and whose demeanor outside the cage is reserved, this business model proved an insurmountable obstacle. The irony is palpable: he was too good, too silent, and ultimately, too focused on the fight itself to succeed within the UFC’s broader framework.
New Opportunities: A Silver Lining Outside the Octagon
While Makhachev`s advice underscores the UFC’s focus on marketability, Fakhretdinov himself appears unfazed by the situation. He swiftly addressed his fans, making it clear that his departure was not a result of being “cut,” but rather a failure to secure a mutually agreeable contract extension. More importantly, he indicated that his high-level skill set remains attractive to other global promotions.
“Nothing terrible happened and offers are pouring in with a very different pay,” Fakhretdinov claimed. “In no case are we worried, we fought with dignity there… We would have caused problems to some people there, but apparently this also got in someone’s way.”
Fakhretdinov’s assertion that he is already receiving significantly better financial opportunities suggests that while the UFC demands a blend of skill and showmanship, other organizations are still willing to pay top dollar purely for proven, elite combat talent. For `The Gladiator`, the inability to master the art of self-promotion within the UFC may simply lead to a profitable career path where quiet dominance is once again the primary requirement.
Makhachev`s reality check, though difficult to hear, offers a definitive statement on the modern combat landscape: in the UFC, success requires more than just winning. It requires a microphone, a captivating narrative, and the willingness to treat athletic endeavor as dramatic performance.
Benedict Kingsley