'It's Not Personal, It's Business': Brendan Allen Breaks Down His Complex Relationship with Reinier de Ridder and Why He Chose to Train Elsewhere
Brendan Allen’s decision to decline training alongside Reinier de Ridder at Kill Cliff FC wasn’t rooted in personal animosity, but rather in a deeper issue of respect—or the lack thereof. And this is the part most people miss: it wasn’t de Ridder himself who irked Allen, but the gym’s leadership for failing to extend him the courtesy of a simple conversation. But here's where it gets controversial: Is it ever okay for a gym to prioritize one fighter’s needs over another’s, especially when those fighters are in the same weight class and could potentially face off in the octagon? Let’s dive in.
Ahead of their highly anticipated UFC Vancouver main event, de Ridder revealed he had approached Allen about training together after joining Kill Cliff FC in Florida. Allen’s refusal wasn’t about de Ridder personally; it was about the principle. In a candid interview with MMA Fighting, Allen explained, ‘Every time a middleweight wanted to join the gym, I was asked if I was okay with it. When [Nassourdine] Imavov came in, they checked with me, even though we were scheduled to fight. I said sure, because I respected the transparency. But with de Ridder? Not a word. It felt like a slap in the face—not from him, but from the people running the show.’
Allen’s frustration was clear: ‘If you’re not going to show me the same respect you show others, why should I play nice?’ This wasn’t just about training; it was about being valued as a top fighter in the gym. Allen, who was already close with several 185-pound UFC contenders, had a clear boundary: ‘I’m not here to make friends in this division. I’ve got guys I won’t fight unless they call me out. But for gold? I’ll fight anyone.’ His stance was professional, not personal: ‘I’m not your friend, and I don’t want to be. But I won’t disrespect you unless you disrespect me.’
What makes this situation even more intriguing is Allen’s history with fighters de Ridder has beaten, like Aung La N Sang and Gerald Meerschaert. ‘When someone beats my friends, it’s personal,’ Allen admitted. ‘But seeing him at Kill Cliff, buddying up with everyone? That’s not my style. I’m not fake. If you ask me something, I’ll tell you straight up, whether you like it or not.’ This authenticity, while refreshing, also highlights the complexities of navigating relationships in a competitive sport.
The way Kill Cliff FC handled the situation left a sour taste in Allen’s mouth. ‘It’s business, I get it,’ he said. ‘But when you’re one of the top dogs in the gym, you expect a certain level of consideration.’ Allen’s eventual decision to leave for Chicago, where he trained with Belal Muhammad, wasn’t just about de Ridder—it was about finding a place where he felt respected and valued.
But here's the real question: Did Kill Cliff FC make a strategic error by not involving Allen in the decision, or was it a necessary business move to support de Ridder’s transition? And does Allen’s loyalty to his friends—almost to a fault—cloud his judgment in a sport where every fighter is a potential opponent? These are the questions that make this story more than just a training dispute; it’s a glimpse into the intricate dynamics of MMA.
As for the fight itself, Allen was more than ready to step into the main event after Anthony Hernandez’s injury. Having eyed a showdown with de Ridder for some time, Allen was confident: ‘There’s nothing impressive about him. He doesn’t have that ‘it’ factor.’ Bold words, but they underscore Allen’s mindset: this fight isn’t just about winning; it’s about proving a point.
What do you think? Was Allen justified in his frustration, or should he have put business before personal feelings? And does de Ridder’s presence at Kill Cliff FC change the dynamics of the gym in a way that’s unfair to other fighters? Let’s hear your thoughts in the comments!
