Conor McGregor’s boxing career might be over, but Donald Trump would ‘hire him in a heartbeat’

Once hailed as the king of the fight game and the face behind an overpriced whiskey empire, Conor McGregor now finds himself in a much less glamorous spotlight—this time as the poster boy for courtroom shame. How did the man who once ruled the world with his signature left hook end up as the punchline of his own downfall?

This week, an Irish civil jury found McGregor liable for sexually assaulting a woman in 2018, ordering him to pay €248,000 ($257,000) in damages. The trial was like watching a poorly scripted UFC promo, with McGregor arguing that the encounter was consensual and dismissing the woman’s accusations as “a full-blown lie.” But the jury wasn’t buying it. The woman shared a gut-wrenching account of being choked, threatened, and fearing for her life. Her testimony painted a horrifying picture, backed up by evidence of physical injuries that even shocked a paramedic.

McGregor’s defense team tried their best to distance their client’s personal behavior from his professional reputation, essentially pleading, “You don’t have to like him to side with him.” Translation: Yes, he’s obnoxious, but cut him some slack. The jury, however, delivered a decisive nope, siding with the woman and leaving McGregor to foot the bill—and nurse a battered ego.

After the verdict, McGregor issued a tone-deaf statement on X (formerly Twitter): “I’m with my family now and focused on my future.” While that may sound optimistic, it lacked any acknowledgment of the harm he caused. Instead of humility, McGregor doubled down, brushing off the verdict as though it were just another bump in the road.

Here’s the thing—€248,000 is chump change for McGregor. The UFC’s highest-paid fighter, he’s raked in tens of millions from fights and made a cool $600 million selling shares of his Proper No. Twelve whiskey brand. Clearly, it’s not about the money for McGregor. It’s about protecting his image, which has taken a hit as hard as any knockout punch he’s delivered in the ring.

McGregor once symbolized grit, charisma, and Irish pride. Now? He’s a walking cautionary tale, his brash personality morphing from charming to cringeworthy. His dream of returning to the UFC’s Octagon feels about as likely as him starting a successful self-improvement seminar. Even Dana White, the UFC president, might be dodging his calls right now.

The internet wasted no time in body-slamming McGregor’s reputation further. Social media users skewered him with biting comments, pointing out his tumble from greatness. “Remember when we all admired him? Yikes,” one user wrote. Others mocked his alleged political ambitions, joking that his presidential campaign might involve a MAGA-themed UFC belt courtesy of Trump.

McGregor keeps teasing a comeback, but these days, his promises sound like your friend vowing to hit the gym “starting Monday.” While his goal of becoming president of Ireland may be real, his current resume—which now includes a sexual assault verdict—doesn’t exactly scream “fit for office.”

For now, McGregor’s biggest battle isn’t in the Octagon or on the campaign trail—it’s against irrelevance. Judging by the public’s reactions, it’s a fight he’s losing. If he does claw his way back into the spotlight, let’s hope it’s through sports and not politics—for everyone’s sake.