"I spent my first few years screaming at people over the phone and threatening to sue them," White says. "It was horrible."

Through patience and a series of deft moves, like embracing the Nevada State Athletic Commission's rules (weight classes,­ fight doctors, no more head-butting), White transformed UFC from something resembling Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome­ (two men enter; one man leaves!) to a legitimate sport broadcast on Spike TV and pay-per-view, with an ever-expanding fan base and sanctioning in major states that also allow boxing (including California and
New Jersey).

"If it weren't for Dana White, there's no way this sport would be even close to where it is now," says color commentator Joe Rogan. Yes, that Joe Rogan, from Fear Factor. Trust me, he's much funnier and erudite than you might expect. "No one else would have had the dedication to stick with it. No one else would have brought it to where it is."

Today, Ultimate Fighting Championship is a huge brand that regularly outpaces­ other sports organizations. The fourth-season premiere of The Ultimate Fighter (UFC's reality show, a masterstroke that has built faceless fighters into recognizable, marketable stars) destroyed a baseball game on ESPN that same night. Among men ages 18 to 49, 1.1 million viewers tuned in to watch UFC, as opposed to the 239,000 who decided to watch baseball. But the true test, the real apples-to-apples comparison, comes against boxing. UFC 61 sold out the ­Mandalay Bay; 12,400 people attended, with ringside seats going for as much as $750. Conversely, one of the biggest boxing fights of the year happened at almost the same time: "Sugar" Shane Mosley fought Fernando Vargas at the MGM Grand. That fight drew fewer than 10,000; the most expensive tickets went for $800. You may not think that's a huge win for UFC, but it is. For a sport that was marginalized, UFC is not only being taken seriously now but is also excelling.