William Tackett believes becoming a UFC employee represents a pivotal moment not just in his career but in the evolution of professional grapplers. The 23-year-old grappler, who has spent nearly a decade training in Austin, Texas, is now embarking on a new chapte.
“Being an employee for the UFC has probably been the best experience I feel like I’ve had yet for a jiu-jitsu guy,”
Tackett explains in podcast appearance.
It’s to be believed Tackett secured a monthly sallary from the UFC to be part of UFC BJJ’s program. This is different from UFC’s typical MO. UFC stars are their contractors.
What makes Tackett’s situation particularly noteworthy is the exclusive contract he signed—a decision that drew criticism from some corners of the jiu-jitsu community. However, Tackett sees it differently.
“I’ve been trying to get a contract with Who’s Number One for a good bit,”
he reveals.
“A lot of us professional athletes have been chasing contracts for a long time.”
The reality is that financial security has been elusive for most grapplers throughout the sport’s history.
The UFC offered Tackett something rare in jiu-jitsu: a sallary.
“They really understood my value, maybe even more than I did,”
he admits. This respect translates into tangible benefits—access to nutritionists, strength and conditioning coaches, physical therapy, state-of-the-art training facilities, and even complimentary meals. These aren’t luxuries; they’re standard resources in every other professional sport that grapplers have historically lacked.
Tackett represents the first generation of American grapplers who can build genuine careers without supplemental income sources. He lived with his parents until age 22 or 23, saving every dollar from coaching and competing. Many of his peers worked full-time jobs outside jiu-jitsu just to survive.
“All the money I’ve made in my entire life has come through jiu-jitsu,”
Tackett says.
“So I have to actively pursue what’s best for me financially and for my family.”
Now preparing for his middleweight title match against Ronaldo Jr. at UFC BJJ 3, Tackett is relocating to Las Vegas to maximize his opportunities. Training where he competes, accessing the UFC Performance Institute daily, and building relationships within the organization are strategic moves for someone thinking beyond his competitive years.
Tackett seems to be flying high on the fact UFC FPI is providing meals, medical care, and performance optimization. As Tackett notes,
“It’s about protecting the investment. If I go out there and compete on Who’s Number One three months before my UFC BJJ match and snap my tibia and fibula in a heel hook, are you going to compete for UFC BJJ now?”
While Tackett’s enthusiasm about joining UFC BJJ is understandable given the historical scarcity of financial support in professional grappling, his framing of this arrangement as unprecedented progress requires scrutiny.
While Tackett celebrates UFC’s provision of Performance Institute access, nutritionists, and medical care, he’s overlooking a critical liability embedded in this arrangement: by allowing the UFC access to his complete medical history, injury recovery data, performance metrics, and real-time biometric data, Tackett has handed the organization a comprehensive record of his physical vulnerabilities—information that will inevitably be weaponized during future contract negotiations and renegotiations.
When Tackett’s current contract expires and he seeks to renegotiate or test the market, the UFC will possess detailed documentation of every injury he’s sustained, every physical limitation he’s overcome, every moment of weakness captured in their system. This data becomes a negotiating cudgel: the organization can cite pre-existing conditions to justify lower offers, use injury recovery timelines to argue he’s less reliable, or simply use his medical history to argue his value is lower than the market might otherwise suggest. This is not speculative—it’s standard practice across organizations that control athlete data. Tackett’s situation is particularly precarious because the UFC has systematically built a monopoly in combat sports specifically to suppress athlete compensation.
If the UFC paid athletes the industry-standard 50% revenue share, they would have paid approximately $700 million in 2024 instead of $200 million. The entire UFC Performance Institute cost $14 million to build. Providing “free” meals, PT, and training is vastly cheaper than paying athletes what they’re worth.
