Finding Fedor

Despite his international fame and success, Fedor still resides in Stary Oskol.

"I have never ceased loving my country," he said. "When flying over Russia, you see how big she is and how beautiful. In the ring I always remember first that I am defending the honor of my country, city and club."

To say that Fedor lives an almost monastic lifestyle would not be an overstatement. He drives a Toyota that the city gave him for his achievements, lives in an ordinary apartment and continues to train throughout most of the year in much the same way he has done since returning from military service in the mid-1990s.

There is an interesting difference in how Russians and Westerners view the wealthy. For a Westerner, the self-made man, the entrepreneur, is often the epitome of achievement. The average Russian, however, considers most affluent, self-made people to be criminals who have cheated the system in some way. They are quick to criticize one of their own whom they no longer respect because money has changed them.

Not surprisingly Fedor is known very well in Stary Oskol. Every taxi driver, shopkeeper and hotel receptionist has a story about him. All praise his humility, with some saying he is the most humble person they know and praising the way he has remained one of them despite his success. A particularly amusing story involves Fedor winning a fight in Japan and then returning home. He landed at the town airport, then had to call a friend to pick him up because he had forgotten to arrange a ride home.

You won't find anyone in Stary Oskol who will question Fedor's honor or legacy. Yet, when he did not sign with the UFC, international fans and media challenged his desire to preserve his status as the best fighter in the sport. Criticism of Fedor only increased after the announcement that he would be fighting 1-0 Hong Man Choi (Pictures) on New Year's Eve.

Why didn't Fedor just sign with the UFC?

To understand him is to recognize that given the circumstances, it was never a choice.

Hearing Fedor discuss the UFC negotiations and understanding his background and motivation, it is obvious that he was as likely to accept the UFC's offer as he was to become a completely different man.

In particular Finkelchtein, Fedor's manager, cited the harshness of the UFC's terms and the organization's inflexibility as two issues preventing an agreement. There were some specifics, such as the widely publicized clause that wouldn't let Fedor compete in combat sambo and the UFC's refusal to sign some of his Red Devil teammates.

"I never met Dana White, never spoke to him on the phone, never exchanged e-mails," Fedor said. "However, I did read a lot on the Internet about what he said in regard to me and Vadim []. I also read e-mails that he sent to Vadim; all of his correspondence was very upsetting. The contract that we were presented with by the UFC was simply impossible, couldn't be signed -- I couldn't leave. If I won, I had to fight eight times in two years. If I lost one fight, then the UFC had the right to rip up the contract. At the conclusion of the contract, if I am undefeated, then it automatically extends for an as yet unspecified period of time, though for the same compensation.

"Basically I can't leave undefeated. I can't give interviews, appear in films or advertising. I don't have the right to do anything without the UFC's agreement. I could do nothing without the OK from the UFC. I didn't have the right to compete in combat sambo competition. It's my national sport. It's the Russian sport, which in his time our president competed in, and I no longer have the right to do so. There were many such clauses; the contract was 18 pages in length. It was written in such a way that I had absolutely no rights while the UFC could at any moment, if something didn't suit them, tear up the agreement. We worked with lawyers who told us that it was patently impossible to sign such a document."

Fedor is a man who fought all of his life to be independent of the system, to belong to himself and to forge his own future. He is where he is because of the people around him.

In his view the UFC offer, which was not open for reasonable negotiation, proposed that he exchange everything that makes him who he is -- his team, his freedom and his future -- in return for more money than anyone else at the time was making and the possibility of fighting in the strongest heavyweight division in the sport.

To forfeit the opportunity to fight in the UFC heavyweight class was also, to a certain extent, to give up what Fedor had fought for -- the right to beat all of the top-tier competition, to cement his place, beyond any criticism, as the greatest ever.

The negotiations were not helped by the differences in how both sides did business. The Russians did not understand the UFC's negotiating tactics. The lack of courtesy and personal insults upset them. Coming from a country where the decision makers are rarely in the spotlight and the most powerful men are never the loudest, the Russians did not understand the UFC's professional wrestling-esque business and marketing model. They did not understand why the king is also the court jester and why the dirty laundry of negotiations must be aired in the harsh glare of camera flashes.

In giving up potential UFC matches against the likes of Couture, Gonzaga, Nogueira, Filipovic, Arlovski and others, Fedor dreamed of "an organization where the strongest fighters in the world compete against each other."

M-1 Global's initial steps toward that goal might not be satisfying. The top-ranked heavyweight in the world taking on Hong Man Choi (Pictures) is not a fight many fans want to see. But such a bout -- as is sometimes dictated by money, exposure and fans outside of the United States who have different interests -- must take place in order for more meaningful fights to be made in the future.

And those more meaningful matches -- against Barnett and Couture and others -- must also take place, if Fedor's legacy as the greatest of all time is to remain intact.