On the one hand, if the psychology of Greg Hardy’s presence in the UFC is centered on the possibility of him getting his ass kicked, a short-notice bout against Alexander Volkov is kind of the perfect setup. Going against Volkov — in Russia, no less — has the exact feel of a loaf of turkey heading out to take on a meat slicer.
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Of course, the fact that Hardy’s standing in for Junior Dos Santos on 18 days’ notice only serves to enhance the effect. As a super-green heavyweight in the ranks, Hardy doesn’t belong in same sentence as Volkov, much less the same cage. The matchmaking is extremely circumstantial, but all signs point to a massive, very public humbling.
In other words, something truly marketable.
Then again, once you get past all the ugly skeletons in his closet from before his time in the UFC, the more refined criticism against Hardy has showed up in the form of a competitive issue — this idea that he hasn’t faced anybody. All of that’s about to change in Russia, when Hardy (5-1) meets heavyweight Volkov (30-7) on Nov. 9 at CSKA Arena in Moscow.
Hardy has been the busiest man in the sport for the past year, taking on such searchables as Allen Crowder, Dmitry Smolyakov, the romper-wearing Juan Adams and, just this past weekend in Boston, a man who calls himself the “Combat Wombat,” Ben Sosoli. He has won two of those fights, lost one due to a disqualification, then had his last one rendered moot by the Massachusetts State Athletic Commission for using an inhaler between rounds.
Bizarre fights? All of them. Some of them felt more like “fights,” dressed up in quotes. Some of them, such as the Adams bout, played out like a tragic tale about a man who was willing to die for his single leg. None of them have been what you might call “redemptive moments.” Hardy’s past follows him to the octagon like a megaphone screaming “THIS IS A BAD MAN” each and every time he’s booked. The associations between Hardy’s high-slotted placement on these cards and the UFC’s blind eye have been hard to justify.
Exploitative, even.
Which then raises the question that I’m not even sure the UFC is prepared to answer: Exactly how is this shit supposed to feel?
Alexander Volkov, a 10-year and 37-fight veteran, is Greg Hardy’s most prominent MMA opponent to date. (Stephen R. Sylvanie / USA Today Sports)It’s true that there’s a certain sect of people who will tune in to see Hardy get smashed by a Russian beanstalk like Volkov, which is fine — but this isn’t typical heel territory. From the outside looking in, Hardy seems genuinely invested in fighting, not in manipulating the public to further hate him. He’s cashing big checks (by MMA standards), but he seems sincerely defiant of the outside noise. He seems particularly uninterested in changing the public’s perception of him, which is maddening. Aloofness of one’s sins isn’t a heel move. It comes off as more tone deaf than anything — a moral mute button that the UFC pushes each time it books him.
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So what’s the end game here? If a fighter is irredeemable in the public eye and generates dark feelings in a fight, that doesn’t sound ideal for promotion. Asking fans to confront a moral dilemma is hardly in keeping with sports’ most magical power — which is to become a portal for escapism.
Hardy is being thrust into a three-round co-main event against Volkov because he has a name. It’s an opportunity that he doesn’t deserve, especially after the inhaler fiasco in Boston. Yet for all the value in booking Hardy against a Big Name based on the idea that people will tune in to see him get thrashed, there’s the opposite possibility.
You know, the scenario in which Hardy does what Derrick Lewis did back at UFC 229, and scores himself a knockout over Volkov. Should that happen, the Hardy story would get even more complicated. He would be on a redemption tour in defiance of public sentiment, from a man who is so checkered that playing heel isn’t even on the table. Suddenly you have a kind of negative albatross in the top 10 of the heavyweight division, and a growing feeling that we’re stuck in an experiment that most would just assume be over with. It would be like the UFC smudging our noses in a story it didn’t need to tell, for a man who isn’t exactly fueled — at last not in any truly perceivable way — by reinvention and second chances.
At any rate, Hardy is finally getting that upgrade in competition. He can’t be accused of fighting nobody’s anymore. If anything, he should be commended for wanting to test himself against a seasoned fighter such as Volkov on such short notice. There’s a confidence there that should be exciting for the heavyweight division, but instead it’s the same question over and over again to the UFC’s strangest crusade.
Exactly how is this shit supposed to feel? Because right now the feeling isn’t all that good.
(Top photo: Chris Unger / Zuffa)
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