Chapter X: The Power of the Package — How Positive Media Legitimized MMA and Changed Combat Sports Forever
By 1998, the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) was a floundering organization. Branded “human cockfighting” by powerful political opponents like Senator John McCain, UFC had been pulled from mainstream television and relegated to the fringes of the internet. Boxing promoters—fearful of a rising rival—pressured Pay-Per-View (PPV) companies to blacklist the organization, threatening to withhold boxing broadcasts if UFC events were aired. The sport of no-holds-barred fighting was on the verge of collapse.
While the UFC fought for survival, another movement was quietly taking root in Southern California. A visionary named Greg “Kazja” Patschull had stored the original Octagon he built for his 1993 “Cage of Rage” event and revived it in 1998 for a new series called Kage Kombat. Held the first Monday of every month in San Pedro, California, Kage Kombat stood in stark contrast to the unregulated violence of early UFC. It featured structured rules, no head strikes, and a competitive martial arts format designed for athlete safety and mainstream acceptance.
Kazja’s innovation extended beyond the cage — he successfully partnered with Cox Cable to air Kage Kombat on local public access, saturating the Southern California airwaves with nightly broadcasts. It was during one of these airings that Los Angeles Times writer Tracy Johnson, a Palos Verdes resident, discovered the show. Her glowing front-page feature praised the Octagon format, the safety rules, and the sport’s potential, even listing Kazja’s phone number and event schedule.
The impact was immediate.
Howard Schultz, CEO of Lighthearted Entertainment, saw the article and contacted Kazja the very next day. Impressed by the concept, Schultz personally attended a Kage Kombat event and later introduced Kazja to Sean Perry, an executive at Endeavor — a powerful entertainment agency that had no involvement with UFC at the time. Perry was captivated by the professionalism, media buzz, and potential for crossover appeal.
Kazja brought with him a meticulously assembled positive media package, including Cox broadcasts, newspaper articles, and event footage. Perry, sensing its potential, proposed featuring Kage Kombat on Channel 13 and even suggested teaming up with Vince McMahon of WWE, which Endeavor was already representing. This meeting marked a turning point. For the first time, Endeavor began seriously considering MMA as a viable business venture — not through the UFC, but through Kazja’s Octagon-based promotion.
Meanwhile, Kazja was working behind the scenes to legalize the sport. By December 2000, his rules — distinguishing MMA from “no-holds-barred” combat — were approved by the California State Athletic Commission and the Office of Administrative Law, both for professional and amateur levels. But for MMA to gain national traction, Nevada’s approval was essential.
Kazja contacted Kirk Hendrik, General Counsel to the Nevada State Athletic Commission (NSAC), and insisted they approve the sport — even threatening to appear in person if they refused. He then traveled to Nevada, delivering copies of his press package to the NSAC, Hard Rock Café, Thomas Mark of Global Entertainment PPV, and others.
At the Hard Rock, his package was handed to John Lewis, a fighter and trainer for Dana White and the Fertitta brothers — who were themselves exploring a UFC purchase. Lewis passed the materials on to White and the Fertittas. The effect was immediate: “Let’s do this,” they said. The UFC, which had been hemorrhaging money, realized Kazja had media, PPV, and Endeavor support — things they lacked. They quickly moved to purchase the UFC for $2 million and brought Kazja into the rules process.
In 2001, Sean Perry informed Kazja that NSAC would approve MMA. UFC’s future now rested on the rules that Greg “Kazja” Patschull had authored and already had approved in California. Hendrik placed him on the NSAC agenda but warned him not to mention PPV, claiming the agenda was solely for rule approval — not licenses. Yet in a strategic move, a casino owner at the meeting requested approval to hold a UFC event under a boxing license, which was promptly granted.
At the meeting, Kazja overheard Lorenzo Fertitta telling several commissioners not to approve him, and instead asking if they could approve John Lewis, who was also present. This confirmed what Kazja had suspected — that Lewis had handed over his media package to Dana White, who in turn delivered it to the Fertittas. It was now undeniably clear that Kazja’s work was being used to relaunch UFC behind closed doors.
Days later, Marc Ratner, NSAC’s Executive Director, and Hendrik called Kazja. They admitted the Octagon was essential to the sport’s survival — but told him that only UFC would be allowed to use it, citing their trademark. Kazja explained that he had originated the Octagon and held the first-use copyright. When he submitted proof, he received a call from Ratner and Fertitta, asking if he planned to sue. “Possibly,” he replied. Fertitta responded ominously: “We are billionaires. We will squash you.”
Not long after, California reversed its sanctioning and pulled back on MMA until it could regain regulatory control. Meanwhile, the UFC continued to grow — fueled by the very rule structure, media strategy, and Octagon branding Kazja pioneered.
While operating smaller shows in California, Kazja and his partner Ryan Chenoweth developed a training compound with a metal-dome arena, bleachers, a dojo, and fighter housing. Kazja pitched a reality TV concept to Sean Perry of Endeavor — fighters training and competing on-site for a contract. Though Endeavor declined to go forward with him, the concept materialized soon after as The Ultimate Fighter, produced by Sean Perry and Craig Piligian of Pilgrim Media for Spike TV. Perry and Piligian later became business partners — further proof of shared influence.
Legacy
Through sheer persistence, innovation, and an understanding of media power, Greg “Kazja” Patschull changed the trajectory of MMA. His positive media package, professional structure, and regulatory advocacy not only legitimized a struggling sport but ignited the interest of the entertainment world’s most powerful gatekeepers.
Today, Endeavor owns both UFC and WWE, a merger unimaginable before Kazja brought Kage Kombat into the spotlight. Without that critical press blitz and calculated networking, the UFC may never have become the global juggernaut it is now.
And at the center of that origin story — is the Octagon.