Zuffa believed it landed pure royalty by securing Shakur Stevenson following his victory against Teofimo Lopez. The subsequent months delivered zero ring appearances, endless social media bickering, alongside an obstinate champion insisting on tailor-made parameters before stepping into the ring.
A lack of signed contracts triggered sharp public reaction.
“Zuffa have to really regret that Shakur Stevenson signing. All he has done is ruin his goodwill with the fans online and continue to be a pain in the ass to get a fight done for,” Tolboof posted on X.
The critique holds immense weight given the presence of ready internal rivals. José Valenzuela threw down an explicit challenge, handing the promotion an explosive pairing of roster talent. Stevenson discarded the possibility entirely.
Rayo delivers relentless offense, legitimate stopping power, plus an eagerness to trade in the pocket. Such an opponent forces Stevenson out of his safety zones, giving the promotional hierarchy a genuine look at their prize asset under fire. Ernesto Mercado offers another devastating threat capable of delivering the carnage Turki Alalshikh expects from these venture millions.
Stevenson ignores those dangerous tests. He spent valuable calendar time chasing Devin Haney at a catchweight limit of 144 pounds, demanding artificial terms against a larger rival. Haney relies on safety-first positioning, backfoot movement, minimal inside engagement. The brass faced grueling backroom wrangling merely to stage a bloodless fencing match devoid of crowd drama.
A collaborative company asset jumps at the Rayo encounter, establishing a fierce homegrown rivalry under the promotional banner. Stevenson prioritized stagnation, fixating on comfortable terms instead of stepping through the ropes.
Pure technical craft is obvious. The actual headache centers on functional execution for the brand. The Riyadh connection thrives on reckless courage, volatility, combatants chasing knockouts against devastating hitters. Stevenson brings retreat-first tactics, endless contract stalling, vast stretches of inactivity.
The brass presented him as their crown jewel. Stevenson spent his entire tenure turning that blockbuster signing into an overpriced promotional nightmare.
Dana White has to be feeling serious buyer’s remorse, even if he will never admit it publicly. White built his entire empire on a matchmaking philosophy that is the exact polar opposite of how Shakur Stevenson operates. In the UFC model, fighters take the hardest fights presented, stay active, and entertain the crowd. Stevenson brings the complete antithesis: high financial demands, a fence-and-retreat style that empties arenas, and an obsession with handpicking circumstances down to the exact pound.
Zuffa shelled out eight figures to make Stevenson a headline acquisition, expecting him to anchor major events. Instead, the promotion bought into months of dead air, endless social media bickering, and outright refusal to engage in in-house tests. Turning down José “Rayo” Valenzuela right out of the gate showed where Stevenson’s priorities sit. Rayo is a dangerous, aggressive hitter within the same organizational family who would have forced a firefight and given the fans real drama. Passing on that test while chasing a 144-pound handicap against Devin Haney proves Stevenson wants the safety of selective terms rather than testing himself against true offensive threats.
That calculated businessman approach is poison for a fledgling promotional brand trying to build genuine momentum. Matchmaking a risk-averse defensive specialist is difficult enough; matchmaking one who demands king’s ransom money while rejecting live punchers is an outright headache. When an elite technician refuses to take risks in the ring or at the negotiating table, the company is left paying millions just to watch its marquee investment gather dust on the shelf.
Triggering an escape clause in the contract would be the quickest way to end the bleeding, because keeping Shakur on the roster is a recipe for stagnation. If the Zuffa brass has a legal mechanism based on turned-down fight offers, inactivity periods, or failure to accept assigned dates, pulling that trigger makes absolute business sense.
The problem with holding onto a fighter like Shakur is the opportunity cost. Every month wasted trying to indulge his catchweight demands against Devin Haney is calendar space denied to fighters who actually want to scrap. Dana White built his promotional legacy by freezing out athletes who attempt to play matchmaker from their couches. In boxing, promoters constantly get trapped paying massive retainers to elite technicians who believe they are entitled to dictate every single term while taking zero operational risk.
Passing publicly on José Valenzuela was the ultimate signal. When an athlete tells his own paymasters that he refuses an in-house clash with a dangerous puncher, he ceases to be a promotional asset and becomes an obstacle. If Zuffa cannot use him to test their own talent or build compelling company events, they are simply subsidizing an ego trip.
Cutting ties via a contractual exit would send a message to the rest of the roster that the money requires reciprocal cooperation. If Shakur wants to wait around for perfect conditions at his leisure, he can do it as a free agent on somebody else’s dime.