A Eulogy for Evan

Reading a lot of the comments from regular fans on MMA blogs, there seems to be a common sentiment in the wake of Evan Tanner’s death: it hurts more than people expected and they’re not exactly sure why. Most never met the man at all, yet they feel for his loss like a member of their own family. Let me put in my two cents:

The fan-athlete relationship between Evan Tanner and the MMA community was not like the relationship with other fighters. Evan was our child and we were his protectors.

We supported him, encouraged him, and cared for him both physically and emotionally, more so than he cared for himself. And he, in turn, looked to us as more than just the people who cheered for him while he was in the cage. He slept on our couches, cried on our shoulders, and eventually, rejected all other sponsors so he could cast his lot with the only people who ever really gave a damn about Evan Tanner. That was us.

His blog posts were not philosophical missives, or mere news updates. They were letters to us. Go re-read some of his entries, but imagine that each one started out with “Dear Mom and Dad…”

We understood and accepted the contrasts of a man so physically strong, but compulsively weak; able to demonstrate almost super-human self-control one day and absolutely none at all the next. Flaws and fragility are not tolerated in MMA. We need our fighters to be entirely tough. When we see a chink in their armor, we have no use for them anymore. But we were never cheering for Evan the Fighter; we were rooting for the future of Evan Tanner the human being. It didn't matter that he lost his last two fights, that he sunk his boat, or that he repeatedly fell off the wagon. You couldn't stop pulling for Evan. And that’s what made our fandom unconditional; we neither pitied nor envied Evan, we just loved him.

Fighting was not a job to Evan and it wasn’t his way of life. He hinted at this on several occasions, but the truth was that fighting was the only reason Evan was still alive as of last week. We knew this, we always knew this, and that’s what made the bond so much stronger. Our fandom was not the difference between a win or a loss or a sponsorship. Subconsciously we always knew that supporting Evan meant keeping him alive. We did it as long as we could.

And now our job is done. Evan is gone. That little space in our hearts that was always keeping an eye out for Evan is empty. And it hurts like hell.

R.I.P.