Let's Get It On!_ The Making of MMA and Its Ultimate Referee - Big John Mccarthy [109]
Since I’d now be hired to referee through each state commission, Fertitta told me he couldn’t put me on Zuffa’s payroll. Zuffa planned to hold six events a year initially, so it would have been a loss of nearly $70,000 a year for me. It wouldn’t be financially feasible for me to get the time off from the police academy, so I’d have to consider giving up refereeing. It was nobody’s fault. I’d been hired at a time when regulatory bodies had no interest in the sport, but now the sport was evolving.
I was touched and grateful when Zuffa figured out a way to keep me around. Since they felt I’d become fairly synonymous with the UFC, they offered me a yearly licensing contract for my name and likeness, as well as the right to use my catchphrase “Let’s Get It On,” which I’d trademarked through boxing referee Mills Lane in the late 1990s. I’m told Marc Ratner, the NSAC’s executive director, was aware of the arrangement, though he never asked me about it. It was also understood that I’d assist the UFC in educating additional state commissions on the sport.
I was licensed as a referee in Nevada for UFC 33. When it came to combat sports, Las Vegas was considered the preeminent destination. As a young boy by my dad’s side, I’d watched monumental boxing events broadcasted live from Las Vegas. Now I would be a part of it. To say it was a huge moment and victory for me would be an understatement.
UFC 33 “Victory in Vegas” was held on September 28, 2001, at the Mandalay Bay Events Center in Las Vegas. Refereeing at the event should have been more thrilling, but two weeks earlier two commercial airliners had flown into the World Trade Center buildings in New York City. As the nation mourned, we were uncertain if the show would happen at all. Many people were recommending that Zuffa reschedule, but Zuffa decided to go ahead as planned.
The other shoe dropped days later when Vitor Belfort, who was challenging Tito Ortiz for the light heavyweight title in the main event, injured his arm in a freak accident. While training in Brazil, Belfort was pushed into a window next to the ring, sustaining a deep laceration that required surgical repair. Zuffa now had to find a new opponent to take on Ortiz. With little training time, Belarusian fighter Vladimir Matyushenko agreed to step into Belfort’s headlining shoes.
It was Zuffa’s third event since taking over the UFC, and the promotion spared no expense. They bought billboard ads and put the fighters and officials up in the host hotel, which was one of the nicer ones on the Strip. Just as they were at the big boxing events, the weigh-ins were opened to the public and press. Everything within Zuffa’s control was managed with style.
Still, the variables of the night that couldn’t be accounted for were the fights themselves. In an effort to stack the event, three five-round championship bouts were added to the card, and all three fights went their full twenty-five-minute duration as the athletes cautiously fought to not lose. This caused the pay-per-view to run over its time limit, and the broadcast cut out during the main event between Ortiz and Matyushenko.
Despite their best efforts, Zuffa had repeated the mistake SEG had made at UFC 4 in 1994. Many customers asked for refunds, and the event was considered a financial disaster. The fights weren’t considered particularly interesting either. Of the eight bouts offered, six went to anticlimactic decisions.
Zuffa wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet, though.
A few days before UFC 34, the promotion and the NSAC jointly announced another rule change at a press conference in Las Vegas. I was flown out early during fight week to speak at the podium, where I told the press that if a bout stalemated, referees would now be allowed to restart a fight from standing position. This new rule would speed up the action and prevent a fighter from stalling, a major issue at UFC 33.
UFC 34