Dana White, King of MMA

bedrooms were. I’d place a tape of Irish music in the stereo and turn the volume up
full blast. I would then watch as bedroom doors opened and heads popped out to see
how many guests I had from Saturday night. I would then inform them all they had
thirty minutes to get ready and be in my car, that we were going to church and I was
not walking into church late. I didn’t like the priest at the church we attended, who,
if you walked in late, always made an issue of it by stopping what he was doing or he
included your late entrance in a comment in his sermon. I would get all kinds of
excuses from Dana’s friends as to why they didn’t need to go to church with me — like
they went Saturday night or they were going home and would go with their family —
unfortunately for them that didn’t fly with me. If they were in my house on Sunday
morning, then they were going to church with me.
One Sunday I had a whole pew full with me: Dana, Kelly, and four boys who had
spent the night. The smell of booze coming from the boys’ breath was overwhelming,
I was passing out gum and mints through the whole mass. I worked many Sunday
mornings because I was on call for the recovery room, and our hospital had the
trauma helicopter for a large area covering four states so I would get called in a lot
on the weekends. For the boys so inclined to drink too much, spending Saturday night
at my house was like playing Russian roulette: maybe they would have to go to church
with me and maybe they would be spared because of my work schedule. I suppose it
beat going home the night before drunk and facing their parents.
Dana has a big sweet tooth, and when we first moved to Vegas, on Sundays we
would go to the Show Boat on Boulder Highway after church. We would bowl a couple
strings and have breakfast. Dana always ordered the same thing for breakfast: a
waffle that was buried in strawberries and whipped cream. He is also very fond of
the giant chocolate peanut-butter cups. They sell them at Sanborns candy store at
Hampton Beach.
When Dana was struggling to get the UFC up and running, I decided to send him a
box of the giant chocolate peanut-butter cups from Sanborn’s Candies. Whenever
Dana was at the beach, he would always go to Sanborn’s and buy the giant peanut-
butter cups. I thought it would lift his spirits a little; it’s always nice when you get a
little something from someone and it’s not a special occasion. It was summer time,