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Opinion: A Rubric for the Inaugural Red Panty Night Sweepstakes


Editor's note: The views and opinions expressed below are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Sherdog.com, its affiliates and sponsors or its parent company, Evolve Media.

Conor McGregor hasn’t been on the featherweight throne a week yet, but the new 145-pound king has already decreed a new way of living and existing under his rule. Once upon a time in the Octagon, a championship belt was the prize for which to strive. Now, all of a sudden, titles are gilded props that happen to coincide with a more grand, royal narrative: Who is Conor McGregor going to “bless” next?

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Whether or not it manifests tangibly in terms of ratings on network TV remains to be seen, but the UFC on Fox 17 main event between Rafael dos Anjos and Donald Cerrone on Saturday has gotten a major shot of adrenaline in the MMA sphere this week. Media and fans were hardly down on the fight prior, but the lightweight championship rematch has had its intrigue magnified instantaneously by the presence of McGregor, whose claims of imminent lightweight title contendership put a whole new level of emphasis and importance on the 155-pound championship fight in Orlando, Fla.

One of the most prescient predictions “Mystic Mac” made in 2015 was his conceptualization of “Red Panty Night” back in September during the Ultimate Fighting Championship’s #GoBig press tour.

“I can make you rich. I’ll change your bum life,” McGregor said, jabbing at dos Anjos from the dais, months before he was actually in any position to make such postures. “When you sign to fight me, it’s a celebration. You ring back home, you ring your wife: ‘Baby, we’ve done it. We’re rich, baby. Conor McGregor made us rich. Break out the red panties.’”

Yes, McGregor was being glib and cheeky, but it didn’t make him any less on-the-money. We’re just days removed from his left hand icing Jose Aldo’s historic reign, and yet, a UFC lightweight title fight is instantly being re-imagined through the lens of McGregor. For my money, 155 pounds is still the deepest, most talented, volatile division in this entire sport. Yet all of a sudden, a lightweight title fight is now less important in and of itself than what it means in terms of the Red Panty Night Sweepstakes.

At this point, figuring out McGregor’s gambit is half logic puzzle, half gut feelings and guesswork. About the only folks rooting for dos Anjos on Saturday will be Brazilians and Frankie Edgar. Cerrone is already popular, ever exciting and effortlessly talkative, sometimes even to his detriment -- essentially the polar opposite of dos Anjos. Even without the imposition of McGregor, Zuffa brass would be quietly rooting for “Cowboy,” and no one would blame the UFC for it. For McGregor, Cerrone is both a bigger draw as an opponent and a more stylistically friendly dance partner from which to steal the UFC lightweight title.

For the most part, the rational conscience within the UFC super body is and remains the matchmaking tandem of Joe Silva and Sean Shelby, and their ethos is one predicated on win-win situations. Considering the totality of the McGregor drama, they’re both going to push for the Edgar fight for a variety of reasons.

One, McGregor’s next fight, regardless of opponent, date or location, will draw big. Two, Edgar is a damn accomplished fighter and a sympathetic figure whose 145-pound title ambitions have already taken a backseat to the McGregor train on several occasions. Bypassing Edgar or freezing him out while McGregor pursues another division will only breed unnecessary ill will across the fanbase, media and fighters themselves, all of whom will be quick to editorialize about Zuffa favoritism and the company’s “unsporting” conduct. Three, on the topic of stewing discontent among fighters, if McGregor came up to 155 pounds for his next fight and got an immediate title shot -- and rest assured, when he ventures up, he’ll get that immediate shot -- Silva has to deal with unnecessary head-aching from fighters. Contender Michael Johnson already spoke up Thursday in no uncertain terms and detested the idea of taking a backseat to McGregor hot-shotting into the division. The likes of Tony Ferguson, Khabib Nurmagomedov, Anthony Pettis, Eddie Alvarez or a defeated dos Anjos looking for an immediate rematch would all likely feel the same way. Plus, you’re flirting with a champion who claims he still wants to actively reign at 145 pounds.

That brings us to four: Shelby and the featherweight division. On Wednesday, we passed the five-year anniversary of WEC 53, one of the most monumental and thrilling cards in the sport’s history. It’s notable and symbolic: After years of trying to spearhead the sub-lightweight classes, Shelby finally struck gold in recent months with the ascent of McGregor. If the Irishman takes off to 155 pounds next, in the best-case scenario, Shelby has a featherweight division on freeze with the hope McGregor could somehow set a legendary, historical precedent by reigning in two weight classes, which still seems just a bit farfetched. At worst, his division stagnates while McGregor fights for the title; Edgar and other fighters get pissed off; McGregor loses at 155 and returns to the division; or worse, McGregor vacates the title entirely after winning at lightweight, leaving featherweight in momentary purgatory.

Regardless of outcomes in Orlando, know that the UFC is going to want to push for McGregor-Edgar. It would sell well, it promotes the overall health of two divisions, it saves the sanity of both of your matchmakers and it minimizes attacks on the promotion’s legitimacy from fans, fighters and media. It is the most peaceable solution. However, this is where McGregor’s own prerogative comes into the mix and where the alchemy gets difficult.

Set aside McGregor’s desire to pull down $15-20 million a fight for a moment, as he’s not going to get blessed to that degree for his next fight. Beyond his preferred price tag, McGregor is insistent on his ability to pick who, when and where he fights, and while he doesn’t have the UFC fully over the proverbial barrel yet, Zuffa can feel the grain of the wood. Cerrone might be the most appealing target for McGregor, but he’s crazy and convicted enough to potentially see no harm in challenging dos Anjos and may want to flex his muscle. This is the sort of thing for which we just can’t account, as we attempt to figure out the true balance between McGregor’s cleverness and cocksureness.

For now, the “who” in the “who, when and where” trinity is the only compelling question. The UFC emptied its clip lining up major fights into mid-January and will be looking to start bolstering its April-May schedule in coming weeks; and by all accounts close to the man, McGregor’s recent purses have mostly gone toward spoiling his family with bells, whistles and suicide doors. Thus, the UFC and the “Notorious” one will need one another in the next six months give or take, regardless of McGregor’s list of demands and Zuffa’s desire to suppress them.

That “when” lends credence to the idea that the “where” will be McGregor’s newly annexed seasonal home of Las Vegas. The notion of running a show at Croke Park in Ireland is simply the McGregor-flavored version of the UFC using AT&T Stadium in Texas to get more money out of Vegas casinos for its shows. That is reinforced by the fact that one of McGregor’s major promotional assets is that he induces young 18-34 males with disposable income to buy transatlantic plane tickets, hotel rooms, UFC tickets, casino chips and alcohol. Down the line, a Croke Park show may materialize for a long-reigning McGregor to create a “great moment” for a sports hero, but for now, he literally brings thousands of his laddish worshippers to Vegas, where they drink all the booze, hold up traffic and serenade the city for the better part of fight week.

For mainstream appeal, Ronda Rousey remains the UFC’s biggest superstar, but after McGregor’s second Las Vegas main event and the second time he has successfully turned the MGM Grand into a beautiful, ecstatic cesspool, he is the UFC’s biggest traditional fight star. Rousey’s gift is in magnetizing a non-traditional MMA audience and sparking PPV buys, but it’s reasonable to think that the sorts of casual folks who watch her cameos on late-night chat shows or “Good Morning America” aren’t heading to Vegas for a week of debauchery to see her fight. McGregor sells PPVs, he sells tickets -- “platinum” tickets, the kind for which the UFC artificially inflates the price, no less -- and he breeds tourism for the UFC’s home base. It makes sense to send Rousey all over the globe for title fights, but it makes just as much sense to keep McGregor on the neon boulevard.

Many have floated the idea of McGregor rousing up the Irish contingent for the UFC’s Madison Square Garden date in April, but the reality is that the April 23 booking at MSG is a political tactic. As brilliantly outlined in this “Press Row” segment with veteran MMA journo Jim Genia, the late April date was chosen so that the UFC’s affairs would make into the next legislative session; if in fact a law is passed to allow MMA in New York, it would initiate a “blackout period” of 90 days or more in which the state wouldn’t be regulating the sport. It’s classic bureaucratic shenanigans, but the long story short is that the UFC has MSG on April 23 booked in hopes of sparking legislation and getting a legitimate MSG date later this year when, hopefully, laws are on the books. So rest assured, when the red panties fall, they will be on a Las Vegas carpet; and if that’s the case, you’re looking at Memorial Day weekend or UFC 200 on July 9.

Even if we make rational sense of the when and where, we’re left to obsess over the “who” part as we wait for dos Anjos-Cerrone 2, hoping it will grant us greater clarity gazing into the crystal ball. “Mystic Mac” was already better than the rest of us are at forecasting the future, and that was before he had a legitimate, tangible influence on shaping it in the promotional sense. More now than ever, we’re stuck wondering what’s in his head.

If you take him at his word -- and why wouldn’t you? -- he essentially wants to be Floyd Mayweather Jr. With respect to historical accomplishment, international celebrity, co-promotional swagger and, most importantly, financial compensation, he’s got a damn long way to go before even holding a candle to the real king of Las Vegas. For now, MMA’s featherweight king is at least a revolutionary prince, having forced a group of champions and his own damn patrons to line up before his throne at the prospect of riches and the transformation of undergarments.
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