It would be lazy to simplify Derrick Lewis' journey to the UFC as the clichéd story of the black kid who had to fight his way out of the impoverished confines of New Orleans to escape the fate of incarceration or an early grave. That story is told far too often when it comes to black athletes. The success story that isn't told enough about black athletes is one in which they overcome a sense of guilt about their accomplishments when the people around them act as if they owe them something.
“I think I made it,” Lewis said uneasily. “There's a lot going on in my personal life that people don't know about, but I feel very comfortable with my life right now. I'm lucky that my life turned out that way after everything I've been through.” through.”
He was speaking just over a week away from competing in his 41st fight as a mixed martial artist. And when the lights go down Saturday at the Enterprise Center in St. Louis, Missouri, and Houston rap legend Fat Pat's song “Tops Drop” echoes through the arena, one of America's biggest cult heroes UFC will head to the octagon to a standing ovation.
Everyone loves “The Black Beast,” right?
“I love my fans, but there are a lot of fans that hate them,” said Lewis (27-12, 18-10 UFC), one of the UFC's most beloved figures with more than 2.2 million followers on Instagram. His Saturday main event fight against Rodrigo Nascimento at UFC Fight Night (ESPN+, 7 p.m. ET) will be the second fight of an eight-fight deal he signed with the UFC in 2023. Never mind that he went 2-5 in his past. seven fights and has never tasted gold in the championship. The combination of shocking knockout power and extraordinarily dry humor have made him a fan favorite.
Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like he's a family favorite these days.
“The love from the fans feels good, but the hate comes from my family,” Lewis, 39, revealed with a deep sigh. Despite all he has overcome and his success, Lewis has discovered that the hardest people to please are those who share his lineage. “People who don't know anything about me and only see me on television love me more and support me more than my own family. That hurts me.”
Of all the things he's gone through in his life to get to this point (witnessing drug use and domestic abuse as a child while growing up in New Orleans, as well as serving prison time in Houston), what could potentially have more consequences for him. The crippling effect on his happiness is the people he promised to support with his life.
“I grew up wanting to take care of my family, and not having that support is what hurts me the most,” she said. “They say I've changed because of the money, but I'm the same guy. I'm just trying to be smart with my money because none of them are helping me fight for it.”
This is deeper than any loss I've ever had in the octagon.
But, like most things, he ignores it and focuses on the task at hand.
“I don't even know his name,” Lewis says of who he'll be fighting this weekend. “But I know it starts with an 'R.'”
He's not trying to be funny. He is simply being honest about how little he knows about Rodrigo Nascimento. Whoever it is, Lewis doesn't care. He has one job: knock him out. He's been pretty good at it so far. His 14 knockouts are the most in UFC history, thanks to his “Swangin' and Bangin'” style, a reference to Houston's hip-hop scene and car culture. He is not interested in wrestling or grappling, simply hitting his opponents as hard as he can for as long as they can take it. And once they pass out, he has something to say.
Good luck finding out what it is. His post-fight dialogue has ranged from having to use the bathroom to explaining why he immediately ditched his fight shorts after a win. When his post-fight antics are uploaded to YouTube, the views are through the roof. His infamous “my balls were hot” line after knocking out Alexander Volkov at UFC 229 has over 5 million views.
That's why many believe the UFC signed Lewis to an extension last year even though he has a losing record since 2021.
“Derrick Lewis is an anomaly,” says Mike Jackson, an old friend of Lewis who has seen his rise from the amateur to the professional level. The two met in 2010 at the Silverback Fight Club in Houston. Jackson, best known for his 2018 UFC fight with WWE's CM Punk when the professional wrestler tried his hand at MMA, has had a front-row seat to Lewis' maturation as a fighter and man.
“Fighting is entertainment and he has the whole package,” Jackson said. “You know every time he walks into the octagon there's a chance he's going to hit you, and when he's on the microphone, that's not a character. It's genuine and authentic to him.”
That's why almost everyone loves him. And yet, Lewis considered retiring from wrestling in 2017.
After a knockout loss to Mark Hunt in June, Lewis, then 32, announced he was retiring from mixed martial arts. It felt abrupt to those closest to him, considering she was barely scratching the surface of his fighting ability.
“Derrick came to the UFC with pure skill,” Jackson recalled. “He got here with basic adjustments, and then we started to see growth over time. He didn't have any real jiu-jitsu. If he got beat in a fight, his trainer would say, 'It's okay, Derrick.' !' And with another grown man on him, he just got up. He's been able to do it on instinct. Now he's adding the run game and realized that if he put in the effort to get better, the wins would come easier for him.”
Lewis reconsidered his retirement after a few months and returned to the Octagon the following year. At that time, fans saw a deliberate improvement in both his skills and his physique.
“I had a goal [to retire before 35] when I started fighting,” Lewis said of his brief retirement. “But I think everything happens for a reason. In 2017 I said I was going to retire and I did for a little while. But he would never have had two opportunities for the title. “If I retired, I wouldn't have experienced any of that or the money I'm making now.”
And since then he has made a lot of money.
His eight Performance of the Night bonuses rank second in UFC heavyweight history. Since he returned from retirement, Lewis has fought for the heavyweight and interim heavyweight titles, defeating the likes of Francis Ngannou, Curtis Blaydes and Alexander Volkov along the way. His 28 UFC heavyweight fights and 18 wins rank him second all-time.
But when you tell him his praise, he brushes it off.
“I don't really care about all that,” he said. “I wouldn't even know it if they didn't show it on TV.”
What he cares about is taking care of his wife and three children, who are more concerned about the man he has become than the fighter who destroys the opposition and then shows his humor.
“They don't see my fights,” he said of his children. “I'm ashamed of my kids, no matter what I say or do. I go to my kids' school and their friends say, 'My balls are hot.'”
He laughs at the idea of preteens reciting his outlandish jokes in post-fight interviews at school, because he's always sought to be an influence, but not in this way.
“But teachers say it too!” he said, shaking his head. “My kids are really ashamed of me. Every time I'm in the octagon and I say that crazy stuff, I don't think about it. That's in the heat of the moment. I don't think about whether my kids or my wife will do it.” Look at it.”
Aside from watching him fight or entertain afterwards, you may have caught Lewis rescuing people from flooding caused by Hurricane Harvey in 2017. It's something else he turns down because he doesn't want to be recognized for the things he thinks people should do.
Unfortunately, the things you would like to be recognized for are not being received.
“[My family] They want me to keep giving, but they're not trying to help themselves,” he said. “I gave them cars and helped them with their houses. They don't even change the oil in the cars I bought. They want you to pay the car note, the house note and pay your bills. It's never enough.”
It is obvious that this is a worrying issue for Lewis and the wound of not having the support of his family is still fresh.
“I almost think our relationship would be a lot better if I wasn't successful,” he said. “I went through the same struggles as them. They knew everything about me. They knew how much I wanted to be a fighter, and none of them came to my local fights. I had no support. They didn't even give me a ride to the gym. I've been doing this since 2009 and none of them have been in any of my fights.
“And now I'm the bad guy.”
He's okay with being the bad guy to family members these days. He refuses to let people take away his joy, no matter who they are.
“He doesn't like to please people,” Jackson said. “He's got a lot of pressure to stand out in his town and he's trying to take care of people without letting them down. But there's really nothing misunderstood about him. He is who he is, and what you see is what you get.”
Lewis has put the hardships of childhood in the rearview mirror. But as he approaches 40, is he really going to fight seven more times to finish his last UFC contract signed in August?
“The way this money comes in now? It sure does!” she said with a laugh. “I'm not trying to be the best fighter in the world. Forget about all that. I don't care. I'm trying to get that check.”
He is coy about the financial details of his current deal. When he asks, a smile slowly spreads across his face. For Jackson, the increased incentives have led him to rededicate himself to the craft.
“He's got abs now,” Jackson said. “You know what her motivation is, [his wife and kids], and you know what it intends to do. There's a good chance you'll be able to see one of those spectacular Derrick Lewis knockouts.”
If knockouts and interviews are what fans love, Lewis doesn't have to try too hard to keep them happy. And as long as the checks keep coming in, we'll be able to hear “Tops Drop” in stadiums for at least a couple more years.
“I've gotten to a point in my life where I don't have to try to please everyone anymore,” Lewis said. “I just focus on my wife, my kids and winning fights.”
