It started with a video, one that shocked fans and worried even those used to Bryce Mitchell’s eccentric antics. The UFC star from Arkansas recently appeared on Instagram, face swollen, nose visibly crooked, and tissues jammed inside to stop the bleeding. His tone wasn’t angry; it was desperate as he shared, “Hey, I’m in Searcy, Arkansas, right now. I need my nose straightened out. I just got it broken. It’s uh, you can tell, you know, it’s sideways or whatever. Dude, the doctors are so expensive. They’re like $2,000 or some sh— just to set my nose.”

In a plea that sounded more like a hometown emergency broadcast than a fighter update, Mitchell then asked locals for help as he continued, “Can somebody in Searcy by the grace of God, please set my nose back straight for free. If you could fix my nose for free in Searcy, Arkansas right now, send me a message and I’ll probably go to you instead of the doctor because this is probably going to be like thousands of dollars and it’ll just have to be pulled and put back straight, you know, so if y’all can help, let me know, thank you.”

The update quickly caught the attention of one of the UFC’s most outspoken figures: Sean Strickland. After all, when ‘Tarzan’ speaks, the MMA world listens, usually because he’s saying something no one else will. But this time, his fury wasn’t directed at a rival fighter or a political topic. It was aimed squarely at the UFC itself.

Under Bryce Mitchell’s post, Sean Strickland commented, “Well, I was wrong……. you have to have a fight booked to get medical from the UFC lmao what a joke….” The message spread fast. Was the UFC not covering a Mitchell’s medical costs for something as basic as a broken nose? Technically, the UFC does provide insurance.

As per a report by Grounded MMA, fighters receive up to $50,000 in medical coverage per event for injuries sustained during fights, and another $50,000 annually for accidental health coverage, which extends to training injuries. There’s even $1 million in coverage for brain injuries in New York. But here’s the catch: these policies only apply to fight-related incidents or sanctioned training camps. A random injury outside of those bounds? Fighters are on their own.

That distinction, though buried in fine print, exposes the thin line between fighter and employee, a debate that’s haunted the UFC for years. As independent contractors, fighters like Mitchell technically aren’t entitled to full-time healthcare. The UFC’s coverage acts more like event insurance than long-term protection. For a fighter from small-town Arkansas who relies on modest fight purses and sponsorships, that’s a painful reality.

As such, Sean Strickland’s reaction wasn’t just about Mitchell; it was about the system. To him, the idea that a UFC athlete, someone risking their health for entertainment, would have to beg strangers online to fix his nose was humiliating, not just for Mitchell, but for the sport itself. While executives negotiate billion-dollar broadcast deals, one of their own stars is pleading on Instagram for someone to pull his nose straight, for free. Yet, this isn’t the first time ‘Tarzan’ has aimed his unfiltered anger at the promotion!

Sean Strickland claims the UFC “f—ks athletes” with a fiery message

Just weeks before Bryce Mitchell’s viral plea, Sean Strickland had already taken aim at what he sees as the deeper issue: the UFC’s pay structure. In an interview with MMA Junkie, before his now infamous ‘gun-heavy’ wedding celebration, the former middleweight champion accused the promotion of ‘outsourcing’ its talent pool.

According to Strickland, “It just kind of annoys me too, the direction the UFC goes, they just outsource. They just outsource UFC to these poor countries and these guys go fight for 10 and 10 on the Contenders and they go back and live in Rio and they just made 20 or 30 grand living like f—king kings.”

The outspoken middleweight didn’t mince words. He argued that low starting pay, just $10,000 to show and $10,000 to win, is driving young American athletes away from the sport altogether, as he explained, “You’re really limiting the U.S. market because you’re not paying these guys any money. So you’ve got little Joaquin Jackson who has a choice: go play football, or go be a UFC champion. That man’s going to go play football.”

Crude as it was, his point reflected a recurring frustration among fighters who feel undervalued while international stars fill cards and promotions expand globally. He then bluntly shared, “It’s hard because I love UFC and I can’t complain because I’m in a position in my life that is so f–king good. But, it’s like, they f–k athletes, 100%. One-hundred percent they f–k athletes.”

And so, Sean Strickland may be brash, but beneath the profanity lies a message many fighters are too afraid to voice. How can a sport built on blood, sweat, and sacrifice leave its athletes patching themselves up with tissues while billion-dollar deals are signed behind closed doors? As long as fighters remain independent contractors without full-time protection, these stories will keep surfacing. Strickland’s delivery may sting, but maybe that’s what it takes to make people listen.