At 27-1-1, it could be said that Sean Sherk is the best mixed martial artist to have never won a major championship. After six years competing everywhere from Mahnomen, Minnesota to Tokyo, Japan, one of the sport’s most active and dominant fighters says he’s finally had enough of “flaky” promoters, weak-kneed challengers and, most troubling, the lack of money—all of which has led to him to a crossroads.
“I paid my dues,” he continued, “more than anybody else in this sport, in my opinion. … And I’ve done everything I needed to do to become a successful fighter.”
It’s hard to argue against him.
Undefeated in his first18 fights before losing a competitive decision to Matt Hughes in the only major title shot of his career, Sherk is 10-0 since April 2003—but none of those wins came against fighters of note and all, except for an appearance in PRIDE Bushido, took place in low- or mid-level events.
“The last two years have been pretty tough, fighting in the small shows,” Sherk, far removed from being in the main event on a UFC pay-per-view, admitted.
The tough times grew, ironically enough, out of what should have been the zenith of his career.
With Sherk’s UFC contract scheduled to end 10 days before the Hughes fight in Miami, DeWayne Zinkin—who signed the welterweight powerhouse away from his longtime manager Monte Cox several months before the April championship bout—played hardball with UFC promoter Zuffa, demanding double what the fight would have otherwise paid.
The UFC counter-offered, however Zinkin’s belief that Sherk—hardly a favorite inside Zuffa’s Las Vegas office before the renegotiation—would beat Hughes, led him to stand firm.
For the contender, it was a costly mistake. He got his new deal, but not without a clause that allowed Zuffa to terminate the contract—and Sherk’s ability to fight in the UFC—if he failed to take Hughes’ belt.
Nearly two years later, the life-long wrestler, a self-described “six-day a weaker”—changed by the responsibilities of a wife, his baby boy Kyler, and a new home—has parted ways with Zinkin. Even still, he said, phone calls to the UFC go unreturned and the prospect of getting back in the show seem slim at best.
Fighting nine times in 11 months from December ’03 to November ’04 helped pay the bills. But small-time promoters made life difficult, moving him to the conclusion that something had to give.
“It was a really humbling, eye-opening experience for me,” Sherk said. “At that point in time I realized I can’t make a living in this sport anymore.”
Sherk isn’t the only fighter feeling the pinch of a promoter’s market, but he’s surely the best example.
Matt Lindland, never one to be quiet about wanting high-paying fights, understands where Sherk is coming from. Over the past year Lindland has spent a great deal of time working on the other side of the fence, promoting the Portland, Oregon-based SportFight.
At end of this past summer Lindland contacted Sherk and asked if he’d be interested in fighting fellow wrestler Heath Sims. Still actively pursuing bouts, Sherk said he was.
But then the roof caved in.
“Within a three-month time span I had about five fights fall through,” Sherk recalled. “I couldn’t find any fights at all; couldn’t find any promoters; had a kid—so I had to go back and get a regular job.”
For the first time since he began fighting, Sherk “just had to take a break,” and did for nearly 10 weeks, which, by Sherk Standards, might as well have been 10 years.
Wanting to make sure the February fight between Sherk and Sims—which had only been discussed, not signed—was still a go, Lindland called the top-ranked welterweight last month. With Sherk’s autumn frustration lingering, he broke the news to Lindland that he wouldn’t be available to fight.
“How much is it worth for me to train full-time instead of working on my business?” he asked rhetorically, referring to the hardwood flooring business he opened with a partner last month. “To be honest with ya, I can’t make a living as a fighter. There is a few guys out there making a living, but for the most part people aren’t making a living at it. I’ve got no retirement fund; I’ve got no 401K.
“I’m 31 years old—I don’t want to end up being 40 years old [and] broke because I’ve been chasing this dream too long.”
This was uncharted territory for the native Minnesotan, who was usually the one that faced the bad end of a cancelled fight.
“I got a lot of names from guys who’ve turned down fights with me,” Sherk said. “And that’s been a problem, too. I haven’t fought a guy worth a shit in two years. I’ll be the first one to admit that—but that’s not my fault. It’s not for lack of effort, because I tell every promoter the same thing: ‘Get me the best guy you can.’ I want to fight the best guys out there. And no good guys want to fight because they’re afraid to lose.
“If they’re already in the UFC, well, if they fight me and lose then they’re out of the UFC. If they’re on their way into the UFC, if they’re right on the borderline, they fight me and lose, well now they’re not in the UFC anymore—and that’s where everybody wants to be, the UFC. So I can’t get any fights with top guys. I fight all these chumps, not to take anything away from them of course, just not the same ability. You know, it doesn’t do anything for me except for giving me a payday so I can continue fighting full time. But then they fight because they have nothing to lose. One punch, one kick, one knee, one elbow … they can get lucky and win the fight, well then they’re in the next UFC.”
For Sherk, it’s yet another reminder of how difficult it can be to enjoy success in mixed martial arts, a sport, he says, in need of serious oversight.
He offered three ideas: a sanctioning body whose jurisdiction would cover the entire United States so “not just anybody can pop up and throw on a show—because there are so many flaky promoters out there and they’re just giving the sport a black eye”; a union designed to “protect fighters so promoters can’t just cancel the fight on one week’s notice and basically tell you to fuck off, not give you any money or anything for all the training that you put into the fight”; a ranking system “so when you’ve got a top guy who everyone knows is one of the best guys in the world—and I’m not just talking about myself, there’s other guys that have been in the same position—they can’t just get black-balled from the big shows.”
But until those things happen, all Sherk can do from going mad is laugh.
“I look at the people who are fighting in that show now, and it’s a joke,” he said. “They got a guy fighting in the next show (Drew Fickett) that turned down three fights with me.
“When I found he was on the next UFC, I busted out laughing. I said, ‘I can’t believe this. So that’s how you get into the UFC—by turning down fights with top guys.’”
It’s not that simple, of course. As Sherk knows, like in any business, it usually boils down to money. And undoubtedly it costs the UFC—or any other promoter for that matter—a heck of a lot less to sign a Drew Fickett than a Sean Sherk.
Whether it’s the UFC or PRIDE, which Sherk says is an option he’s having explored, one thing and one thing only will get him back in the ring: a decent payday.
“I won’t fight for less than 20-grand right now, depending on the opponent,” he swore. “If it’s a top guy and I’m gonna have to train for three months, then obviously I want a lot more than that.
“I’m going to set my price, and if people aren’t willing to meet that price then, too bad.”