Earlier this month, Sean Sherk posited the argument that he should be a UFC Hall of Famer during an interview with bjpenn.com.
In making a case for himself, "The Muscle Shark" asserted that he "always showed up ready to fight and put on a great show" and that he created "a legacy as being one of the best in [his] era."
These statements are difficult to argue, given Sherk's 36-4-1 professional record and his title of former UFC lightweight champion, but are those accomplishments enough earn him the highest of honors?
The question of how good is good enough for the Hall of Fame is one that will become more relevant as the still-young UFC begins to see its current stars retire.
Another question relevant to Sherk's case is how heavily UFC credentials are weighted against external achievements. Since it is the UFC Hall of Fame, not the MMA Hall of Fame, what a fighter does inside the Octagon has to be the main focus of the debate, if not the only part of a fighter's career that applies.
In either instance, Sherk fails to make the cut for me. I acknowledge him as a terrific fighter but certainly not one of the best of the best to ever enter the Octagon. It's not even close if you look at his UFC record, 8-4, in isolation.
Some will argue that his record was damaged by the fact that he spent much of his time with the UFC fighting above his natural weight back when the promotion lacked a division lower than welterweight.
But, in the scope of a Hall of Fame credentials debate, arguments of qualifiers can be dangerous. When you start making excuses for one guy, where do you stop? Do you amplify ordinary achievements because a guy fought injured a couple times? It can get pretty subjective.
Regardless, Sherk's UFC lightweight record is just 4-2, and many would argue that it should be 3-3 to correct his decision win over Evan Dunham.
Furthermore, none of Sherk's four UFC losses—in which he fought the fought the best of his era—were even close. Matt Hughes, Georges St-Pierre, B.J. Penn and Frankie Edgar all handled him with relative ease, so putting him on their level, or even a notch below, would be generous.
Now, I'm not writing any of this to bash Sherk—I think he was a terrific fighter for a long time, in spite of having to overcome physical limitations. But, Sherk is just one of many terrific fighters to have competed in the UFC. He didn't truly pioneer anything (though he was an important part of the UFC's resurrected 155-pound division), or accomplish anything that was truly special.
For me, a Hall of Fame is a place that should be reserved for the very best of the best. That, in essence, is what makes it such a momentous honor. When you start compromising and let in just great fighters, it discredits the institution.
Holding to the opinion I have of what a Hall of Fame should be—that is an uncompromising pantheon of those who truly established themselves as rarities in an ultra-competitive sport filled with mediocre, good and indeed great fighters—I cannot reconcile myself to Sherk getting the nod.
There have been many UFC champions, many fighters with 8-4 records and many guys that have or will have UFC careers on par with his that won't even be mentioned as candidates. If morality factors into it for you, many of these guys will accomplish all of it without testing positive for PEDs.
In the end, Sherk serves a defining candidate for the UFC Hall of Fame. He was great, but he wasn't special.
In this sense, the success of his candidacy will ultimately play a large part in shaping what the UFC Hall of Fame becomes—a place for every really good fighter, or a place for the best of the best—because once you establish the floor for standards, it becomes difficult to raise it later on.
So let's remember Sherk as the great fighter he was, but let's not immortalize him alongside true legends and pioneers that altered the history of MMA forever—guys like Royce Gracie, Hughes and Chuck Liddell and down the road, Anderson Silva and St-Pierre. For Sherk is none of those fighters, and his legacy, while impressive, does not deserve to be equated with any of those truly rare, truly special mixed martial artists.