​Conor McGregor’s long-awaited return this weekend casts a spotlight on a persistent challenge facing the promotion. After a five-year hiatus from mixed martial arts, his comeback at UFC 329 has generated more buzz than the typical numbered event, yet the enthusiasm has cooled somewhat. The degree of dimming has surprised many inside the industry, suggesting that the UFC may have overestimated the revitalizing power of McGregor’s presence. External factors—such as the United States commemorating its 250th birthday and the unexpected triumph of the U.S. soccer team in the World Cup—have added noise to the discourse, but McGregor’s once-unassailable aura no longer seems to be the unquestioned force it once was.
That said, McGregor remains a potent draw in the sport’s twilight years of his peak. His ascent to the champ-champ mantle was extraordinary, not merely for what he did inside the cage but for the prophecy he made about his own success well before it materialized. He carried himself with a swagger that had no precedent in the sport and, since then, has been imitated only inadequately. Even if his personality could be off-putting for some fans, his bravado and biting wit were undeniably entertaining at their height. Phrases like “red panty night” became part of the lexicon, encapsulating a period when his presence genuinely felt electric. Many fans, perhaps, didn’t fully grasp just how remarkable that stretch was until it had passed.
Since capturing his second title, however, McGregor has spent more time courting controversy than collecting accolades. The aura of that magical run has continued to carry him through the years, but his record since then has been less than stellar: in four fights, he has won only once, while the headlines have tilted more toward legal skirmishes and public missteps than toward his achievements in the sport. Rumors of steroid use, and the well-documented issue of a broken toe that forced him out of a bout with Michael Chandler, have clouded the narrative. In the broader view, it has become difficult to locate many positive developments in McGregor’s post-peak years.
Still, it’s arguable that McGregor remains the UFC’s most colossal star. Even as his run defined a decade of MMA history—an era I’ve already described as exceptional and unique—the time has come for the promotion to decouple from the notion that a single figure can continuously drive the business in perpetuity. Many contenders have risen and achieved major milestones in the interim, including Max Holloway, McGregor’s opponent this weekend, yet the UFC has struggled to translate those accomplishments into the same level of market power. A central question persists: has this been a deliberate strategic choice by the promotion, or a failure to leverage talent beyond McGregor’s orbit?
McGregor’s ascent undeniably benefited the UFC in its early days. At the same time, the promotion’s relationship with him became fraught as he grew too large to be easily managed within the existing brand framework. His high-profile boxing venture against Floyd Mayweather Jr. epitomized a break from the UFC’s control and demonstrated the extent of his drawing power, even when it meant venturing outside the confines of the organization. The challenge now is whether the UFC can cultivate new stars with the same magnetic appeal or if McGregor’s shadow will continue to shape the sport’s trajectory more than any other fighter’s. As the spectacle of his return unfolds, the broader question remains: can the UFC preserve its relevance and revenue by elevating a new generation of champions, or will McGregor’s enduring, if waning, star power continue to define the organization’s ceiling?