Opinion: When a Deal is Still Actually a Slap in the Face

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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.

Nick Diaz is about to reach a settlement with the Nevada Athletic Commission that would reduce his fine resulting from a “failed” UFC 183 drug test to 18 months and $100,000, down from the originally Draconian five years and $165,000. Much as the vast majority of the MMA world agreed that the NAC’s original punishment was esoteric and insane, the sport in unison reacted with a measure of relief when news of the potential deal came about on Wednesday. In honesty, it is surprising and refreshing to see Nevada to even a small degree pump the brakes on its punitive vendetta against Diaz, especially based on how Nevada and athletic commissions at large tend to oversee this sport.

With that said, don’t get it twisted: Only in a world as cruel and strange as MMA could Diaz’s potential settlement be seen as a victory or a legitimate dose of justice. Even if the NAC is backpedaling, even if the commission isn’t as recalcitrant as usual, Diaz is still being harshly punished for something the NAC can’t prove he did.

As richly detailed here before, Diaz’s initial punishment from the commission was staggeringly vindictive and outrageous, especially in light of the commission members’ petulant behavior during the live-streamed hearing. However, because the NAC’s actions were so unjust, so beyond the realm of anything rational, the Diaz-NAC conversation became one about punishment, politics and pot. Yes, the NAC’s agenda in handing Diaz a death sentence was obvious, but somehow, because it was so pathetically transparent, it’s actually served to cloak the essential fact of the case.

The Nevada Athletic Commission can’t prove Diaz did anything. Diaz was tested three times on fight night, Jan. 31, and he passed the first and third tests: The results were interpreted by the Sports Medicine Research and Testing Laboratory, a World Anti-Doping Agency-accredited facility in Salt Lake City. The second test, the “failure” at hand, was the only test processed by Quest Diagnostics, which is not WADA-accredited. As of today, the NAC still has failed in any meaningful way to explain why Diaz’s three test samples were split over two labs, why one went to a non-WADA-accredited lab when it could’ve been held to a similarly stringent standard or to address the problematic timeline of Diaz’s “failure.”

Diaz passed a test at 7:12 p.m. with a 48.73 ng/ml level. At 10:38 p.m., he failed with a 733.23 ng/ml level. An hour later, he passed a final test with a 61.04 ng/ml level. At the September hearing, Diaz’s medical expert, Dr. Hani Khella, testified that these wild fluctuations in these test results were “not medically plausible.” If it is the only pretense under which to punish Diaz at all, how can the NAC’s “deal” with Diaz be interpreted as clemency on any serious level when he is still suffering for something that can’t be proven?

Yes, Diaz is an unrepentant pot smoker who has bragged about his ability to beat drug tests in spite of his two previous test failures in 2007 and 2012, but the NAC can’t with any certainty ascertain when he smoked pot prior to the bout, if in fact he smoked it at all. Even if you’re the kind of time-warp Tory who thinks athletes shouldn’t smoke weed, the NAC can’t even substantiate its questionable evidence.

It’s a classic bartering tactic to open negotiations with a bullish, unrealistic offer which will theoretically induce the opposing party to make a serious concession in an effort to find a peaceable middle ground. This might be fine when buying bananas or trying to cop Nintendo games from a pawn shop, but that’s not a good analogy for the situation we’re talking about here. Diaz isn’t trying to get a better deal on a sort of disposable good; he’s trying to get back the legal footing to have a career as a prizefighter and make a living.

Diaz’s cause galvanized enough public support for his White House petition to garner over 114,000 signatures and for him to get Twitter shoutouts from the likes of Cher, but more importantly, it put clear public pressure on the NAC to rethink its sanctions. Even if “justice” isn’t the best description of Diaz’s lot should the deal get done, it is an important heads-up to the NAC and other regulators that they don’t have carte blanche to demand penance for their petty squabbles. Citizens are watching the watchmen.

Diaz’s case is unlikely to see a civil court, and that’s unfortunate. For the aforementioned reasons surrounding his “positive” test, many legal eagles have suggested Diaz would have a great case should he choose to push it. Unfortunately, he’s quite clearly a man who isn’t going to find easy employment outside of the fight game, and such a legal undertaking would be prohibitively costly for a man famous for bitching about his Honda Civic. It’s a shame none of those White House petition signatures belong to some sort of wealthy sugar daddy that could bankroll Diaz burying the haughty NAC in court. Regardless, even if Diaz doesn’t ever reach a proper courtroom, an NAC deal does set an important-if-partial precedent, letting the fight world know that the commission can be checked, even if getting something resembling complete “justice” is a stretch.

And so to save himself the unfortunately exorbitant cost of real restitution, Diaz will likely take a deal that will cost him six figures and allow him to return on July 31, 2016. He will be days shy of his 33rd birthday, which is a much longer lifespan than the five years previous. We might even get to enjoy another Diaz classic or two.

NAC Chairman Francisco Aguilar is reportedly readying to leave the commission, and I can’t say I’m surprised. The NAC is a playground for lawyers, casino owners, entrepreneurs and would-be political power players, but those charms are mitigated by being in an unpaid position which, if you’re doing it well, requires not just a serious amount of work but reflection and thoughtful decision making. The office is not without its perks for its members, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, even if it’s a fertile ground for political maneuvering in the state.

However, I’ll never call a job of this nature “thankless.” The fact is, when regulators do damn fine work, when they show the conscientious, even-handed decision, they get applauded, even in prizefighting. California’s Andy Foster has unquestionably made himself some enemies in the state and in the sport since taking over his post, but he has also been commended for his efforts to strengthen testing and medical standards, not just in California but across the United States. Similarly, the likes of Larry Hazzard and Nick Lembo in New Jersey are not free from criticism -- Remember when Andrei Arlovski fought with duct tape on his UFC gloves in World Series of Fighting? -- but since becoming the earliest state to regulate MMA, the New Jersey State Athletic Control Board has a deserved reputation for being proactive and progressive, with an unparalleled focus on reviewing and improving officiating.

All this to say: Even when good regulators aren’t perfect, they do get thanks. Unfortunately, Diaz’s deal reminds us that sometimes not only do poor regulators abound, but we often thank them for showing even a faint shred of sanity.