Let's Get It On!_ The Making of MMA and Its Ultimate Referee - Big John Mccarthy [121]
It wouldn’t be cheap. Zuffa would have to pay for all of the show’s production costs to get the show on Spike TV, an up-and-coming cable network that catered to men and the only one that would agree to allow MMA on the airwaves. This would be a big opportunity for the UFC and the sport. White asked me to be a part of the show.
“I want you to come in and talk to the fighters about being a part of the UFC,” White said.
I told him that wouldn’t be a problem. That part of my involvement on the show never materialized, but I didn’t mind. I thought anything that could bring attention to the fighters and the sport was worth trying, so I was content supporting the show in any way they needed me to.
The way White explained it to me, they were going to bring a bunch of fighters together and have them compete for a UFC contract. I didn’t know how they were going to do it, and I wasn’t privy to any of the development talks, but it quickly became obvious to me that the reality show was Zuffa’s Hail Mary. If it didn’t work, this would be it for the UFC.
About a year and a handful of events later, filming for The Ultimate Fighter began. Zuffa flew me to Las Vegas, and I reported to the set, which was a warehouse a few blocks off the Strip converted into the UFC Training Center.
The gym always appeared much bigger on the show than it was in person, but they did a nice job with it. There was a heavy bag area, a small ring, and, of course, an Octagon identical to the ones used at UFC events. Photographs of fighters in every stage of their banged-up glory hung throughout the hallways. The gym had production offices for Spike TV and Pilgrim Productions, which had produced American Casino and pitched The Ultimate Fighter (TUF) to the cable network with Zuffa.
I usually got changed in a spare office, then reported to the set. I was concerned about the fights and nothing else. Spike TV would usually shoot a single fight in one day. The Nevada commission, led by Executive Director Marc Ratner, was present to oversee the bouts.
Prior to entering the competition, the fighters signed UFC contracts as thick as phone books and were cut off from the rest of the world for the shoot’s duration in a house miles off the Strip.
Some of the fighters I knew, and some I’d never seen before. The fight I really remember from that first season was between Kenny Florian and Chris Leben. Florian, a lightweight fighting up at middleweight to participate on the show, was getting tossed and pushed around until he managed to cut Leben’s forehead open with a standing elbow. I let the fight go for a bit until I had no choice but to bring the doctor in to check the cut, and he promptly stopped the fight. I felt bad for Leben because he was winning before one elbow took him out of advancing into the finals. Florian, a huge underdog, met Sanchez in the middleweight final, but lost.
For the next eight weeks, I made many one-day trips to Las Vegas, and each week the fighters in the gym were whittled down. The atmosphere of the fights was always strange because there wasn’t an audience to cheer them on. You had the judges, the inspectors, the EMT workers, White, sometimes Lorenzo Fertitta, sometimes his brother Frank and maybe a few guests here and there sitting around the cage, but that was it. During that first season, the fighters who lost would leave the house immediately afterward and be taken to a separate location. By the end, there’d be two guys fighting and maybe twenty people, including the production team, watching them.
Nobody really asked me for the fight results when I’d get home because the show wasn’t on anyone’s radar yet. I wouldn’t have been able to tell them anyway. The entire cast and crew signed confidentiality agreements.
The Ultimate Fighter reality show debuted on January 17, 2005, airing at 11:00 p.m. following one of the World Wrestling Entertainment