An omnipotent corporation pacifies the masses with a violent sport while suppressing all individuality. Is today’s UFC a case of life imitating art?

“No player is greater than the game itself.”

So says Bartholomew, the politically powerful executive played with patrician gravity by the great John Houseman in the 1975 film Rollerball. Bartholomew’s company is one of several that have conspired to provide sanitized comfort for the masses, with the deadly sport of Rollerball providing an outlet for pent-up bloodlust and a valuable lesson against individuality.

The UFC has not yet fulfilled the prophecy of that dystopian film. For one thing, the mixed martial arts promotion prides itself on safety, while Rollerball considered athlete deaths part of the box score. But in making a deal with Reebok that strips the sport of individuality, the UFC has set forth a clear pecking order: corporations and the sport itself tied for first, athletes third.

The Reebok uniforms are the most visceral change. Like Rollerball’s uniforms, which have ugly “computer” fonts befitting the 1975 film director’s vision of 2018, the new UFC cage attire is vaguely futuristic and impersonal.

For fighters like Ronda Rousey, who continued her UFC reign of terror Saturday with a devastating knockout of Bethe Correia, endorsements beyond the cage will give her the luxury paychecks and name recognition of any other major athlete. For the fighters who don’t get movie roles and magazine covers, the deal cuts out a major way to make more money and stand out from the crowd.

For this broad underclass, the bigger issue is the loss of revenue from the sponsors that used to clutter their shorts and the banners their corner personnel scrambled to unfurl when the cameras panned over for introductions. The UFC long ago rid its athletes of unsavory shorts sponsors such as Condom Depot and gun salesmen, but fighters were still able to make a few extra bucks selling space on their butts and banners.

Now, nothing on the fighters’ wardrobe will distract you from the Reebok and UFC logos. A few fighters have voiced their displeasure, but the deal is done.

“Corporate society takes care of everything. And all it asks of anyone, all it’s ever asked of anyone ever, is not to interfere with management decisions.” –Bartholomew

And those within the UFC realm have to watch what they say. Jacob ‘Stitch’ Duran, a veteran boxing cutman who has been tending wounds in the UFC since 2001, griped in an online interview that he was losing a lot of money on the Reebok deal, then immediately lost his gig in the octagon.

Stitch’s departure is a big deal in UFC fandom, which elevates familiar faces to celebrity status. Yet he’s the second such person to leave in acrimony this year, following Burt Watson, the man who had the difficult job of keeping order backstage during UFC shows.

Watson’s dispute wasn’t about Reebok. But the two abrupt, impersonal dismissals show how disposable UFC personalities have become.

“The game is played by robots. They look like men, and they bleed.” –Ignorant upper-class woman at the party/orgy celebrating the career of Rollerball great Jonathan E (James Caan)

The UFC, of course, says the deal is good for its fighters. They can still have sponsors as long as they’re all-Reebok in the week leading up to the fight.

Ronda Rousey knocks out Bethe Correia in 34 seconds Read more

“The vast majority of revenue received from the deal will be distributed to UFC athletes,” a UFC spokesman said. “In addition, each athlete has the opportunity to generate additional revenue and royalty based on sales of Reebok merchandise and apparel bearing their name or likeness.”

What they lack is the opportunity to do something novel. The UFC has long subdued fighter entrances compared with the over-the-top extravaganzas in Japan and the ramp-walking exploits of other US promotions, but the Reebok deal has pushed conformity to a higher level. Tom Lawlor, whose weigh-in appearances and fight entrances have paid homage to MMA and pro wrestling figures of days gone by, wanted to walk out dressed not as Reebok Tom Lawlor but as Reebok Conor McGregor, one of the sport’s biggest names at the moment. Not allowed.

Lawlor did get to make his mark, though, wearing not just one good set of Reebok gear but several layers that took considerable time to strip away onstage. Nice, but not the tribute-worthy moments he has had in the past.

“The game was created to demonstrate the futility of individual effort.” –Bartholomew

The UFC has weathered a few storms. After an unlucky period of losing the star power of Brock Lesnar and Georges St Pierre, brash fighters like McGregor and Ronda Rousey have revitalized interest. The organization’s position as the top MMA promotion in the world is secure for now.

But its bid to be one of the world’s top sports organizations isn’t going to improve with a bunch of bored, grumpy people parading out to the cage. The NFL and Premier League can handle a bit of dissent, and their merchandise sales seem just fine. If the UFC wants kids to bypass the Rodgers and Rooney shirts to buy some Reebok, the powers that be might need to exercise a little less power.