Chael Sonnen has spent a decade and a half arguing with Jon Jones, trash-talking Jon Jones, and once fought him for the light heavyweight title at UFC 159. So when the UFC's most famous provocateur shows up to defend Jones, it means something.
“I accept the 'silly me' defense.”
Sonnen was reacting to the fallout from Gable Steveson's latest setback. The Olympic gold-medal wrestler, now 4-1 in MMA and 1-1 in the UFC, was knocked out by Sean Sharaf in 12 seconds at UFC 331 — and then left the arena before the official announcement was read. Jones, who had been working with Steveson, took responsibility for the walkout himself: "It was my decision to take Gable straight to the back after the fight." The clip drew the usual criticism of Jones's corner presence — which is where Sonnen came in.
"I loved everything that Jon did there," Sonnen told MMA Junkie. "Jon Jones is the most successful guy ever. I mean, in all ways." He pushed back on the criticism of Jones for walking Steveson straight back: "I accept the 'silly me' defense," Sonnen said — accepting Jones's own defense, that it was his first time in that cornering spot, and that taking his fighter out of the arena was the right call.
But Sonnen — being Sonnen — couldn't let the whole thing go. His one objection was to Jones describing Steveson as a "friend." "A corner guy is not supposed to be a friend — he's supposed to be a father-type figure," Sonnen said. "The second guy must be a big brother."
It's a classic Sonnen formulation: part genuine insight, part performance. A cornerman, in his telling, occupies a specific role in the hierarchy of a fighter's life — the man who tells you what you don't want to hear. "Friend" is too soft, too equal. The father-type makes the hard call; the big brother keeps you honest.
The irony, of course, is that Sonnen of all people is defending the man who refused to fight him on eight days' notice at UFC 151 — the decision that got the whole card canceled and earned Jones one of Dana White's most famous rants. Fourteen years later, the rivalry has cooled into something closer to mutual respect, at least on Sonnen's end.
As for Steveson, the questions are bigger than one early exit. Twelve seconds into a fight is not a data point — it's a detonation. Jones owned the early exit himself — his call, his words. Sonnen, in his own way, backed him. The only thing he wouldn't grant his old rival was the word "friend."
