Craig Jones has revealed the real reasons behind his decision to step away from B Team citing his inability to effectively manage gym drama from afar as a factor in the team’s impending dissolution. The timing of this announcement raises eyebrows given its proximity to other high-profile departures from the team.
In a candid interview Jones explained that his frequent travels and abasence from the gym created an untenable situation where he was forced to
“monitor the gym situation from afar.” The grappling star admitted, “I’ve been the absent father, you know,”
highlighting the challenges of trying to oversee operations remotely—challenges that may have been tested more recently than he initially let on.
Jones was particularly frank about the difficulties of gym management describing it as encompassing “all the worst parts about being the promoter.” He elaborated, “You’re just managing relationships, like you’re having to enforce things. It’s like people treat the gym like it’s their personal home and stuff like that.”
The dissolution of B Team comes in the wake of several high-profile exits most notably the controversial banishment of Jacob “Jay Rod” Rodriguez. The ADCC silver medalist and buggy choke specialist found himself at the center of a social media firestorm over inappropriate screenshots leading to his swift removal from the team. Rodriguez received a 1 AM phone call from Jones personally informing him of his banishment—a decision that had to be made quickly to protect business interests surrounding the Craig Jones Invitational, according to Jay.
What’s particularly interesting is how Jones‘s recent comments about remote management seem to mirror the exact circumstances of the Rodriguez situation. The rushed late-night phone call decision made without Rodriguez being able to properly explain his side reads like a textbook example of the
“managing relationships” and “enforcing things” from afar that Jones now describes as untenable.
Rodriguez later reflected that he
“wasn’t really ever able to like explain myself” until much later when people realized “it’s just he said she said.”
This communication breakdown handled entirely through phone calls and remote coordination appears to align perfectly with the management style Jones now openly criticizes.
“Obviously there’s a lot of dramas that just naturally unfold at any gym and I really don’t want to be the one from afar to have to manage those things,” Jones stated. “I feel like it should be the boots on the ground there that are like navigating those situations.”
One wonders what specific dramas Jones might be referring to. The Rodriguez incident required exactly the type of crisis management Jones describes as problematic—balancing athlete welfare team dynamics business interests and public perception all while coordinating from a distance. The hasty nature of Rodriguez’s removal executed over a phone call without proper investigation suggests the kind of remote decision-making Jones now seems eager to avoid.
The business pressures Jones alluded to in Rodriguez’s case—protecting CJI sponsors and revenue streams—represent exactly the type of
“worst parts about being the promoter”
that Jones now openly resents.
The Rodriguez situation offers a window into Jones‘s management approach during crises. What should have been a measured response involving proper investigation and face-to-face discussions became a hasty banishment executed over a late-night phone call. Rodriguez’s subsequent months without training and transformation into a
“grappling nomad”
unable to train at quality facilities demonstrates the far-reaching consequences of decisions made hastily from a distance.
Jones‘s current comments about not wanting to be
“the absent father”
take on new meaning when viewed through the lens of recent team upheavals. The Rodriguez case required exactly the type of nuanced in-person leadership that Jones admits he couldn’t provide.
Contrary to speculation about creative differences or financial disputes Jones emphasized that the split was more about practical management challenges. He revealed that opening a gym was never his intention explaining,
“I never really wanted to open that to begin with. It just ended up in a scenario where I felt like I needed there was bad blood on the team.”
Recent events may have reinforced Jones‘s reluctance about gym ownership. Having to make career-altering decisions for team members while managing other business ventures from afar appears to have highlighted the impossible juggling act his role had become.
The B Team brand will officially end with Jones believing it’s “crucial that they come up with a new gym name to separate themselves from, I guess, my brand name.”
Recent controversies and their aftermath may have accelerated this desire for separation—having his name associated with contentious decisions and their fallout appears to be exactly the type of drama Jones seeks to escape.
Jones admitted that his marketing prowess while beneficial had unintentionally created a situation where his presence “overshadows some of those individual identities and their sort of accomplishments in the sport.”
Recent incidents where legitimate competitors became collateral damage in protecting business interests may have exemplified this problem more clearly than ever.
Looking ahead Jones plans to take a significant break from the sport stating he needs to
“disappear, turn my phone off, and just see what happens.”
The desire to disconnect entirely seems particularly relevant given recent late-night phone calls and crisis management situations that required his remote intervention.
The dissolution of B Team marks the end of one of jiu-jitsu’s most prominent teams. The timing of this decision following closely on the heels of other controversial departures suggests that Jones‘s stated reasons for leaving—while certainly valid—may not tell the complete story.
