Al Iaquinta boarded his Qantas flight in New York in 2017, certainly for Australia, using the manner of San Francisco. He changed into heading internationally to help run fighting seminars for a month. He desired to spread his call. He also wanted the cash. By the time he had passed from the East Coast to the West, his new second activity had required interest. Iaquinta had taken on his first customer as an actual estate agent every week in advance and had listed the house on the market just days earlier than his ride. As the wheels touched down in San Francisco, a potential customer wanted to look at the residence.
During his layover, the installation was shown. By the time he landed in Australia, a proposal was made. He negotiated the charge and made his first sale — with a full-price coins offer — internationally. Iaquinta ventured into real property due to the fact he wanted revenue. Knee harm changed into preventing him from preventing, and he wasn’t certain if he’d ever been capable of getting lower back into the Octagon. He needed to find a way to instill his economic destiny even as he could, if healthy, pursue a UFC title.
“The real property — it is going to be the long-time period [plan],” Iaquinta stated. “The combating aspect, I even have desires in fighting which might be in the subsequent five years. Then after that, real property is where it’ll be.” In 2017, Iaquinta said, his incomes from UFC combating and real estate income were similar. Now, coming into his third directly headlining bout Saturday night in Ottawa, Ontario, against Donald Cerrone, he is fighting more than can pay the bills.
Iaquinta says he knows he’s lucky to have reached this point. Many different fighters might never. The Conor McGregor, Jon Jones, and Ronda Rousey of the sport are financially set. Some foremost-card sights pull in excessive 5- to 7-year paydays; however, most UFC fighters — and opponents in different organizations — aren’t as financially strong. Consider this: A preliminary card fighter could make $10,000-$30,000 in step with the fight. That fighter competes twice or three instances consistent with the year — provided he stays healthy. Take out taxes, gym fees, trainer and manager wages, and regular dwelling expenses, and finances can grow tight. Fast.
Though many fighters offer personal education classes or work inside the gyms where they train, isolating fight and finance has been the route for others. Iaquinta has become an actual property agent. Stipe Miocic became the reigning heavyweight champion while an element-time firefighter in Cleveland. Aljamain Sterling, a bantamweight education associate of Iaquinta’s, has labored rather than an instructor and later earned his real property license. Bantamweight Marion Reneau teaches at an excessive school, and flyweight Roberto Sanchez is an actuary. UFC strawweight Emily Whitmire and welterweight Geoff Neal paintings inside the carrier industry. Others paint as law enforcement officials, teachers, and construction people.
All to try and make a living. “We all recognize that this [fighting] money isn’t always for all time, what I imply? Anything can appear,” stated Neal, who has fought four instances in the UFC and works as a waiter in Dallas, Texas. “So you need to preserve greater earnings. Most of the cash fighters make, we try to shop it. You recognize that fighting is an up-and-down recreation, and the commercial enterprise version is hard for regular warring parties with no call to make cash. “We all understand. We recognize. We signed up for it. We recognize what to anticipate. That’s why we work.”