Yair Rodriguez, the No. 7-ranked UFC featherweight, in New York City in February. On Saturday, May 13, Rodriguez faces his toughest challenge yet, the UFC 211 match with former champion Frankie Edgar. UFC 211 begins at 10 p.m. ET on pay-per-view.
Standing on a rusty industrial scale in the basement of a local bar, 14-year-old Yair Rodriguez was itching to make his underground kickboxing debut. His equipment was all borrowed, even the mouth guard — but damned if the young Tae Kwon Do champion wasn’t ready to brawl. From childhood street fights to the Ultimate Fighting Championship, “El Pantera” has laid in wait. Now the UFC superstar is also becoming the face of Mexican mixed martial arts.
Lounging in a leather chair adjacent to the lobby bar in a Brooklyn hotel, Rodriguez seems relaxed –- and more well-rested than an average 24-year-old after a night of mingling with supermodels at the New York Fashion Week kickoff soiree. Road trips are usually all business: fly to a location for a swift dismantling of the opposition, return to Chicago. Train, rinse, repeat. But as the victories pile up and an untapped market of Mexican MMA fans takes notice, trips like this New York promotional tour are his new normal. If the UFC has its way, their clean-cut rising star will follow a path carved by the most famous active fighter on the planet, Irish knockout artist Conor McGregor. “At first it was difficult to understand all of this,” Rodriguez tells OZY about his promotional responsibilities. “But now I only feel support — no pressure. I don’t worry about the cameras anymore.”
Rodriguez was raised in Parral, a small city in northwest Mexico. His childhood was “normal” — poor but full of sports and mischief. As a boy, Rodriguez tried soccer and baseball, but he only took to martial arts. Tae Kwon Do training began at 6 and served him well in Parral, where fighting was an everyday occurrence. Parral’s colonial infrastructure, complete with winding alleys and corridors, proved the perfect urban labyrinth for street fights and robberies. “You fight because another kid will rob you or pull out a knife,” says Rodriguez. Returning home with only a “purple eye” was a success.
He seemed destined for the 2012 Olympics. But Tae Kwon Do garnered little respect in the boxing-obsessed locale. He tried boxing but was disheartened by the lack of creativity. Soon, Rodriguez was kickboxing old men in bars. His best competition, though, was family. In an effort to determine “whose martial art was better,” Rodriguez and a judo-loving cousin would ditch family cookouts and practice for hours. Judo emphasizes throws and takedowns, while Tae Kwon Do features an array of flying kicks. (“We could never figure out who won,” Rodriguez says.)
