It was the best and worst day of his life.
In the early morning hours of April 16, 2006, Court McGee decided that he would rather go to prison than drink the beer he had been staring at. Substance abuse had taken everything from him.
McGee had grown up in a good home in Ogden, Utah. He learned martial arts at a young age, then took up wrestling with hopes of competing in college. But he started drinking, became addicted to OxyContin following an injury and “spiraled out of control.”
Then a heroin overdose nearly killed him.
This week — on Day 7,472 of being sober — McGee sat down with the Deseret News prior to UFC 332 at the Delta Center, where he will finish his professional career with a retirement fight in his home state. After losing everything to addiction, McGee fought to achieve sobriety with help from powerful life examples, a 12-step program and belief in a higher power.
UFC 332, where he will face Eric Nolan in a welterweight bout, will be his 38th professional MMA fight. He’s 23-14 overall (11-13 in the UFC) and was the winner of Season 11 of the reality series “The Ultimate Fighter.” It’s been a long career for the now 41-year-old.
Since that day in 2006, McGee has reunited with and married his “high school sweetheart,” Chelsea, and the couple has three boys (Isaac, Crew and Nash). He trains and instructs at Agema Jiu Jitsu in Provo, Utah, and in 2015 founded the nonprofit McGee Project to “save young people from the disease of addiction.”
“I have a good life today and I’m so grateful for that,” McGee said. “And I can’t help but think, if I didn’t achieve sobriety and pass that on, none of this would be possible.”
Note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Deseret News: How did you get here?
Court McGee: Dude. Good question. Staying sober one day at a time for 7,472 days. But that’s how I’m here. And then, the community in Utah. We have a pretty unique community, and I was introduced to martial arts at a young age. Early on, I was fascinated by martial arts. I got left in an amusement park. I got left at Lagoon with my aunt and uncle, and kind of got separated from the group, and I had a bunch of separation anxiety and problems, and my parents started taking me to therapy. I was only like 6. And the therapist suggested, “Hey, maybe you should get him into wrestling or maybe into karate.” And so that’s what they did.
And then I did city league wrestling. And from that point on, I was hooked. I started wrestling in eighth grade, and then in high school, I had one of the best coaches (Mike Hansen) — he’s a USA Wrestling Hall of Famer, coached at Layton High for over 30 years. I just gravitated toward him. I started wrestling, and I got good enough to go to college and wrestle. (But it was) a weird time for wrestling in Utah. Everybody had (eliminated) their program. There was no college wrestling. The year I graduated, there was nobody until a year later, (when) UVSC started a program.
But by that time, I had an accident. I was prescribed OxyContin for a clavicle break, and then I had torn off a growth plate in my elbow (from) arm wrestling. So I was prescribed all these pain pills, and I had already been drinking alcoholically. I’d already had a few issues with drinking. And once I found those pain pills, I’m like, man, nobody can smell the alcohol. This is perfect. And it just spiraled out of control.
“I had six months of sobriety and I thought, man, maybe I could have one. And it turns out that one led to all of them.”
Six months after dropping out of college and 18 months after graduating high school, I had a (near) fatal, unintentional heroin overdose — unintentional meaning I meant to use the heroin, but not to overdose, of course.
DN: Was that your low point?
CM: Yeah, that was my low point. I didn’t achieve sobriety until about six months later. I went through drug treatment after my overdose. I’d stayed sober in treatment. I had celebrated a sober 21st birthday, and then, I had six months of sobriety and I thought, man, maybe I could have one. And it turns out that one led to all of them. And after about a month, I thought, “I can’t do this anymore.”
A couple months later, I started training again, and got into a jiujitsu gym, got into a boxing gym, and then pretty soon I started boxing, started competing in jiujitsu.
DN: You’re a big part of this, but who and what helped you get sober?
CM: I wanted to stop using, I wanted to stop drinking, but I couldn’t. I mean, the best I did was, like, two weeks one time. And I wanted to quit. I saw it take everything from me. I mean, I ended up homeless at 20 years old. And with a bunch of charges, like enough charges to go to prison. My only thought was, the best thing for me is to go to prison because it would be controlled, it’d be safe, and then I can get sober tomorrow. And then I’ll get out and figure it out.
“Once I started drinking, dude, I couldn’t stop or limit the amount.”
A guy with 20 years of survival (named Patrick Mahoney), he sat down and said, “Listen, this is how I did it.” I felt like he knew exactly what my problem was. And he suggested for me to go to drug treatment and start attending 12-step meetings.
And I trusted him and I listened, and I went, and it’s the single best thing. It’s like God put him there, you know?
Through the process of working that 12-step program, I’ve built a conception of my own higher power. I have a belief in a higher power. I’m able to help other people. I’m able to all of a sudden become a dad, be a husband. I reunited with my high school sweetheart. We’ve got three kids.
I’ve been able to, number one, find love for myself, and then, in turn, love people around me, build relationships, meaningful relationships.
DN: What is your higher power?
CM: God. Yeah, 100%. Higher power.
DN: How’d you find God?
CM: Dude, through a deep, dark spot. I always had a general belief. (My parents) have a very healthy relationship. They had a very clean household, hard-working middle class. No abuse, no neglect, very supportive family. (But) once I started drinking, dude, I couldn’t stop or limit the amount.
DN: Let’s talk about your career. Why do you fight?
CM: Carry the message to people that struggle that there’s a way out. That’s the easiest answer.
“The fighting is one thing. But my recovery comes first.”
I love the preparation. There’s something about it. This guy’s got this set of skills. He trains. I have these sets of skills, and I can work on the skill development, and then we kind of meet at the same weight, and then, boom, it’s fight time. Let’s figure out who can play the best game out here and find a way to finish this guy. And there’s something elusive about that that I’ve always just been passionate about.
DN: What’s your high point?
CM: Winning “The Ultimate Fighter” was a high point, but it was super stressful. The fight to get in the Ultimate Fighter house is still to this day the toughest fight I’ve ever had.
If you want to say there’s one high point, it’s that I’ve maintained my sobriety. That is the high point for me. I know none of this would have happened had I picked up a drink or had I relapsed along the way. That’s my high point.
DN: I asked you how you got sober. You just mentioned maintaining. How do you maintain?
CM: I have a group of people in long-term recovery around me. I was introduced through an anonymous 12-step program, and I participate in that weekly. I participate in my own recovery daily. I have daily prayer, meditation. I do some reading, and I keep conscious contact with a higher power on a daily basis.
And I also give that away. I freely give that away like it was given to me that day that I overdosed and came back. I offer help with going through the 12-step program. And I work with people who are struggling at the lowest of their low. And I have guys that I’ve worked with for 17, 18 years. And I’ve seen them come from where I was at, nothing, to find a home. Having kids. Getting married. And I get to be a part of that.
DN: Is this your life’s work after fighting?
CM: Oh, yeah. I mean, the fighting is one thing. But my recovery comes first because without my recovery, I wouldn’t have anything.
DN: How do you envision Saturday night going?
CM: I envision the best Court McGee. I’m prepared, I’m confident, and, you know, every fight can be your last fight. And that’s even outside of the UFC. I mean, the pressure, the ups, the downs, the injuries sustained during training and preparation — I’m confident and I’m well trained. So I’m ready to go out and give it my all.
DN: Is your message just for people struggling with substance abuse?
CM: No, any struggle, any struggle. It doesn’t matter. I mean, it could be depression. There’s recovery from any type of addiction, you know. Food. You name it, people struggle. I don’t just have struggles with substance abuse. I’m all or nothing. That goes with food, that goes with anything. The gym. Look at it this way. I did a little bit of martial arts, and then look what it turned into. Wow. It’s one of the longest careers in UFC history.
“I was willing to go to prison. I was willing to turn myself in. No more lying, no more cheating.”
DN: Why is a sobriety date important?
CM: Because it’s the worst and best day of your life. I remember staring at that beer and knowing that I was done. I remember my dad coming down the stairs, and I will never forget it. Hopefully I’ll never forget it — and just the feeling of “I can’t do this anymore, I’m done.”
When my dad looked at me and said, “Son, I thought you weren’t supposed to drink,” I saw my grandfather in my dad. And I really, really looked up to my grandfather — like, he was lieutenant colonel. He was a pilot. And when I overdosed, I had this weird vision of my grandfather looking at me, disappointed. And I saw that disappointment in my dad’s eyes, and I just was like, “Dude, I can’t do this anymore.”
And I wanted to be done, like, hundreds of times. But for some reason, April 16, 2006, at like 1:30 in the morning, I was like, “I’m done.” And it didn’t matter. I was willing to go to prison. I was willing to turn myself in. No more lying, no more cheating. And that has saved me so many times.
