The relationship between fighters and promoters is a tenuous one, uneasy and desperate.
There are a hundred ways a promoter can screw a fighter. Only one or two fighters have the infrastructure and relationships necessary to promote their own fights; they need promoters to get their fights sold. Oscar De La Hoya made more money promoting fights through Golden Boy Promotions than he ever did in the ring... and he was no slouch in there. Promoters are a necessary evil for fighters in the same way agents and leagues are for elite athletes, but it doesn't mean they have to like them. Promoters can be exploitative, shady, or simply inept. Especially in MMA, the contract a fighter has now may not be worth the paper it's written on a year later if the promotion can't market them, can't schedule fights, or goes out of business.
There are a hundred ways a fighter can screw a promoter. Fighters are the commodity that promoters trade in, and they make for a volatile portfolio. When you promise your fans a fight, you expect to deliver, but maybe the fighter gets injured. Maybe he backs out. Maybe he does something stupid in the media, commits a crime, shoots your public relations straight to hell and makes your sponsors queasy. Or the week before the fight, he fails a drug test, or doesn't make weight. Maybe he even avoids all these things but is boring, or a pain in your ass, or an underachiever. You market around your blue-chip fighters, but it's the guys on the undercard who are the foundation of your promotion. Without them, you can't fill cards, can't develop challengers, can't stay afloat.
I think if either could replace the other, they'd do it in a heartbeat, but for now fighters and promoters have to forge an alliance of necessity. That's what makes the stories of Nick Diaz and Jay Hieron from this past weekend's Strikeforce card so disappointing. Here were two solid fighters who would likely have produced a good fight at 170 pounds for the first Strikeforce Welterweight Championship. That belt still lies unworn, because a fighter let a promoter down... and vice versa.

Nick Diaz knows his way around a cage; he's been in one since he turned 18. A champion in his second professional fight, in the IFC, he's seen the promised land. He had ten fights in the UFC, and while his record wasn't stellar, he went the distance with a few big names in the division including Sean Sherk and Diego Sanchez. He's won in EliteXC, in DREAM and Strikeforce. Diaz, indisputably, has talent. It's a shame that the weakest part of his fight game is his head.









Article comments
1 - Matthew T. Sussman
So it's like Stephon Marbury fighting Josh Hamilton. I'd pay to see that.