Q&A with Sean O’Connell: Life after a $1 million win and a storybook MMA ending (2024)

Retired MMA fighter and current PFL broadcaster Sean O’Connell has had an interesting path in the combat sports world.

At first, he wasn’t even involved, opting to play football for much of his life, and he even got the opportunity to walk-on at the University of Utah while also playing at nearby schools Southern Utah and Weber State before he hung up the cleats for good. Meanwhile, he had been wrestling from a young age and had a knack for finding himself in fighting situations, which eventually led him to the mixed martial arts scene.


From that point on, there was no looking back, as O’Connell — or “The Real OC,” as some in the sports media world know him — competed in 31 fights, winning 21 of them, including winning the PFL light heavyweight tournament held in 2018, which earned him not only the belt but $1 million. Immediately after, O’Connell retired from the sport for good.

Last month, The Athleticcaught up with O’Connell at one of his favorite dining spots in Salt Lake City, Lucky 13, home to his favorite burger, the Maui Burger. Here’s what the former champ had to say about fighting, his career, and life after MMA retirement.

Both football and MMA are more contact than other sports. Is that what drew you to both, that similarity?

I guess, yeah. I mean, for me, football was it when I was young. I wanted to be the best football player. I wanted, when I was really young, I wanted to play professionally. I kind of figured out once I got into college that that wasn’t going to be realistic, but I only wrestled for football because the football coaches were like yeah, it’ll make you a better football player. Looking back on it now, I stopped playing football when I was 22 years old, and I’ve been wrestling until I was 35 for MMA stuff. I probably had it backward when I was young.

But I guess, you know, the only thing I was ever really good at was being tough. You’ve gotta be tough in both sports. I guess that’s why it worked for me for both. My football career in college was terrible. I was not good. I think that actually, I feel like I was a decent player. But compared to guys I was teammates with at the University of Utah, I was like, oh damn. Realistically, I’m not the athlete I thought I was.

That’s actually probably the best way to put it. I was a good football player, but from an athletic perspective, from a speed perspective, I just didn’t have what it took. I knew the game, but I should’ve started off at Weber State and stayed there the whole time.


Run through people — that’s kind of how your style was in the cage. Make it dirty, rough it up. That’s kind of your go-to. Does that football mentality help you in that regard?

Yeah. I mean, it’s not for every fighter, but for my fight style, you just had to have some kind of base.

Why did it work so well for you?

I think genetically, I’m lucky to have a decent chin. I think chin is genetically based. When you’re not exceptionally fast or exceptionally smooth or have freakish reflexes and you predicate your success or failure on power and explosiveness, football is a good base to have probably. I didn’t have the other tools that can make you a phenomenal fighter. Guys like Anderson Silva and even Conor McGregor, the timing and the speed and precision, all that stuff, those guys are like snipers, right? I’m a shotgun. It’s going to hurt It’s going to hit ya. But it’s not going to be like you know – if you watch a lot of my knockouts, they’re usually left hooks, and it’s usually part of a combination, and it’s usually after one punch hit you in the neck and another punch hit you in the nose and another one hit you in the side of the head. It’s not like the perfect on-the-jaw, “SportsCenter” knockout. It’s just not how it goes.

The results are what matter.

Some say that having an opponent give up is better than securing a knockout. How satisfying was that — forcing Vinny Magalhaes to quit in the PFL tournament final — and would you prefer that over, say, a clean left hook?

Because it was a new thing — I never just forced someone to quit before — I was happy with it. I would’ve loved at one point to have just one of those cool walk-off knockouts, where you throw a beautiful head kick and the guy just dies. I would’ve loved to pull off something like that. But it’s just not my life.

Part of building your success on toughness, part of that is you can push harder than people in training and in fights and all that stuff. I’ve pushed training partners to the point they don’t want to go anymore, but those are different stakes. That’s happened to me, by the way, also. I’ve been pushed to the point where I’m just like, please make it stop. It’s a different thing. Everyone has a breaking point — everyone. Pro athletes, regular folks. Everyone has a breaking point. Mine is further down the road than most people’s, but there are people out there who are further down the road than me. The guy’s that you watch on TV, they all have pretty extreme breaking points. I feel like mine’s a little bit beyond even theirs, but probably shy of like Navy SEALs and Dan Henderson and some of those guys.


I think that’s an asset I have: I can just keep going when it was ugly and I was bloodied and I have a broken nose or knuckles or orbital or whatever. I’d just be like, “Ehhh, sh*t. Here we go.”

Secretly, did you ever hit that point in a fight?

You know, I think, I had one fight early in my career that I wish I could go back. I couldn’t stand the dude I was fighting. My life was just a mess. My personal life and everything was just a mess. I was leaving the country; I was moving to Africa to hit the reset button. I already knew all that stuff. Those plans were already laid. So when I fought him, it started to go bad, and instead of digging deep like I always did, I didn’t dig deep. I didn’t necessarily quit, but I didn’t fight the same way I normally would’ve fought.

He got on my back and got the choke in, and I just tapped instead of letting myself go unconscious or whatever. So I’m pretty embarrassed about that, but other than that, you never want to give yourself an excuse, but that was 10 years ago now, so I’m fine with the fact that it happened. I learned a lot, but it’s just one of those things where, man, I learned a lesson. A couple of times in my career, I had to be reminded a couple of times. Your mentality going into a fight, especially if you fight like me, is really important. You’ve got to be willing to go all the way. If you don’t, you’re going to lose.

Speaking of mentality, it seems like something you have to work toward throughout fight day. It wasn’t long ago where you were doing cageside commentary and then had to go back and get ready for a fight. Your mind is in two different places. What was that experience like?

It was so much fun to do both. If you’re a guy like me and you want opportunities in broadcasting, you’re probably going to have to do something like that. You can’t just walk in and say, “Hey, give me a shot.” If you’re a hall of famer or something, you can do that. But if you’re me, you’ve gotta be like, “Ah, I’ll do it on the same day, I don’t care.” Then, it’s kind of a gimmick at first, but hopefully they’re like, “Oh wow, it’s not just a gimmick. He’s actually good at this.” So you’ve got to prepare, which is actually nice. It’s a distraction from the mental fatigue of thinking about a fight all the time. I enjoyed that aspect.

The first one in Chicago, exactly one year ago today (PFL 2 on June 21, 2018). That was cool, right? I kind of had to prove it to myself, too, that I could announce it and win a fight on the same night. And then the next one, I lost. I commentated the fights and fought again and I lost, so everyone just comes back and was like, “All right, we’re not doing that anymore.” I’m like, “They’re completely separate! One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.” But they’re like, “Oh, it does,” and I’m like, “It doesn’t!” They’re like, “I’m sure it does,” and I’m like, “How would you know because literally, no one else has ever done this before?” I just had a sh*tty fight. I just got my ass kicked.

From the broadcast booth to the winner's circle! Sean O'Connell defeats Ronny Markes by TKO in Round 2 earning 5 points. #PFL2 #MMA #PFLmma #WhatDoYouFightFor #Chicago pic.twitter.com/Tdx0Sr5wgN

— #PFLmma (@ProFightLeague) June 22, 2018

But it was a really rewarding experience, and it paid off in the way I wanted it to because now I’m the main play-by-play guy this year. That’s what I wanted.

You originally asked Dana White for a shot to compete in the UFC over a radio interview. For broadcasting, is calling UFC fights what you’re interested in? And if so, would you shoot your shot again given the chance?

Yeah, absolutely. I’m pretty loyal to the PFL right now because of all they’ve done for me. They’re the ones who gave me an opportunity. They’re the ones who paid me to win that tournament. But hopefully, UFC’s relationship with the PFL can be a good one because we’re both on ESPN, and you know, we’ve got fighters from their roster. Champions in the PFL are more than UFC-caliber, so I think that the UFC will probably come knocking on the door of a guy like Natan Schulte, who, at 155 (pounds), has a great chance to repeat. Or (Magomed) Magomedkerimov, the Russian kid who won at 170 pounds. Those guys can beat a lot of guys on the UFC roster. A lot of them! So if UFC isn’t trying to figure out a way to get those guys on board, they’re crazy.


Hopefully, they’re watching and listening when I’m doing my work alongside Randy (Couture) and Yves (Edwards) and going, “Wow, maybe we can get this guy on board with us, too.” And in that case, competition is good for everybody. If the UFC calls and says, “Dude, we want you,” then I’ll say, “I’ve got a contract with the PFL.” Then they’re like, “We still want you,” and I’ll go, “All right PFL, what are you going to do about this?”

That’s healthy for everyone because that means you’re doing a good job, but it also means you’re forcing the people you work for and the people who maybe want you to work for them, you’re forcing them to step up. That’s something the MMA world really needs.

How has broadcasting gone? What’s different preparing to call a fight than fight one?

Obviously, the stress level is quite different. I love doing it. In terms of how much fun it is, they’re almost equal. The payoff in calling a fight is not as big as knocking someone out, but it’s so much fun to be so close, so involved, to tell the fighters’ stories. I think because I was a fighter, I hopefully have a little bit more understanding of how guys want to be respected by the people on the commentary team, how guys want to be talked about, how guys want to be criticized when it’s time to criticize them. I hope I have a pretty good sense of that. But yeah, I love it.

And the preparation is just a lot more film study. When I was doing my own fights, I’d watch my opponents, but I wouldn’t get overly hung up on what they did because then you’re only worried about them and not yourself. When I’m preparing to call fights, I’m watching a ton, everything I can find on these guys. Trying to pick out tendencies, and it’s fun. Watching fights is great, and now I get paid to do it.

Is it easier to see what might happen cageside than when you’re actually in the fight?

The guys you train with oftentimes — if you’re more of a senior member of the gym — you’ll corner some of the younger fighters. Or your best buddies or closest training partners, you’ll corner those guys. So I’ve been cornering fights and watching from an analytical perspective for a long time. I was laughing at myself, because I’m a way better corner when it comes to analyzing what’s happening than I am a fighter. When I’m a fighter, there’s nothing cerebral about my approach at all. I’m barely thinking in there, which is bad. When I’m in the corner, I’m a pretty good cornerman.

I think it’s the same when I call fights. I can be analytical. I can see things. I didn’t see anything when I was fighting. I didn’t recognize sh*t. Because the game slows down a bit when you’re just watching and analyzing and calling fights or coaching somebody else through theirs, my recognition is pretty good and my pattern pickup is pretty good. When I actually fought, though, I had none of that. It’s like a Jekyll and Hyde thing. I’m really smart thinking about, talking about fights. I’m not real smart fighting.

What a team! @realOCsports, @Randy_Couture and @thugjitsumaster are ready to call the action! #PFL5 pic.twitter.com/32SB8uaSGg

— #PFLmma (@ProFightLeague) July 25, 2019

What is it like working with Jeremy Horn? How much has he helped you in your career?

I mean, I wouldn’t have had a career without Jeremy. Because there’s a pretty thriving scene here in Utah. There’s a group of guys that are still competing. Ramsey (Nijem) is in our gym and in PFL right now. Court McGee is still in the UFC. There are some promising young guys who I think will end up finding their way into the big organizations like PFL, Bellator and UFC, eventually.


But when I showed up on the scene, Jeremy was still actively fighting. He was training world champions, not just us here in Utah. Matt Hughes would come out and do a camp with us. Robbie Lawler would work with us in his camp. So early in my career, I had the influence of those guys and kind of got a glimpse of what it’s like to prepare that way. Jeremey, for someone like me, he’s so good at being just like, “OK, look, you have power. You have offense. We need to make sure your defense improves, your jiu-jitsu improves, and you’ll start to win fights.

He started to shore up my weaknesses from the beginning and helped me develop my strengths. He’s never cornered a fight where he sees something new because he’s fought so many damn times. The violent pursuit of mixed martial arts, to most people, is a little wild. To Jeremy, it’s what he’s been doing since he was 14 years old. He’s been able to pass on that kind of casual, nonchalance to a lot of us, where it’s just like fighting is just fighting, man. It’s just going to work. Don’t make it bigger than it is. And I don’t think any of us did it as well as Jeremy does, but it helped.

Going into the PFL light heavyweight tournament as the sixth seed, there seemed to be a reason you were going to lose every single fight. But you kept going and winning, eventually beating the top seed to win it all. Did that mindset (from Horn) get you through that tournament, and what did you guys do to prepare you physically for a tournament?

It was wild because, do you try to prepare for multiple opponents? You’ve got a definite first matchup, and then a second matchup is going to be against one of two guys, so are you preparing for three guys in the tournament? Or are you just preparing for one?

Just like most of our fights, we just prepared for me to be the best version of myself and hope that was enough to beat those dudes, and thankfully it was. It was like this delicate balance of making sure that we had the right cardio and speed, but also making sure you didn’t beat yourself up too much in training or in the first fight. Because you had to fight again an hour and a half later. It was a new experience for me, but kind of going back to what I said before, not a new experience for Jeremy. Jeremy fought in a bunch of tournaments coming up. So he was just like, “Dude, it’s not that bad. You’re going to be fine.”

When you’re in a gym and you’re training for a fight, you’re doing 10-12 rounds in a night. He’s like, “We’re only going to do five rounds max. We’ll just take a break.” So in training, we’d like to do a couple of rounds, take a quick break, do some pad work, and then go back to MMA rounds or wrestling or whatever it was. We just had a squad of killers coming in and abusing me, and it was cool. I was prepared.

I’m sure you were feeling pretty good after winning it all. Physically, though, you just went through that grueling tournament. How did your body feel?

By then, that’s five fights in a year. It was really five fights in six months. My first fight was June 21, and the last one was Dec. 31, so it was like, even when things go well, that’s a lot of abuse. Not just the fights themselves, but the training for them. I tore a ligament in my wrist at some point. My knuckles were all messed up and gross. My face was kind of pulpy because, you know, I took a lot of damage even in the tournament. Dan Spohn put it on me a little bit. So did Smealinho (Rama). So, I had soft spots on my face, a loose tooth maybe.

It’s funny how that pain is easily ignored when you’ve got the result you wanted and you’ve got a little more cushion in your bank account. It’s definitely worth it then. It was nice to just take continuous rest after that. I’ve had back problems since I was like 18 years old, and to just be able to focus on stretching and not having to worry about lifting or being explosive or anything like that, made my back feel a lot better.


And then, of course, you have that $1 million check and a shiny, new belt. What was the first thing you did to celebrate?

It was really awesome — the night, the aftermath. A bunch of my friends from high school and elementary school and all that stuff, we had 100 people that came out to New York. So, we all just partied all night long, that was pretty cool. I don’t drink, so I had a milkshake, which was great.

After, my dream has always been to own a piece of property in Hawaii. I was like, “OK, we’re going to go shop for some surf shack on the North Shore or whatever else.” Except we go out there, and I realize you can’t buy anything on the North Shore with $1 million. I’m sure we could’ve stretched and made something work, but it was a pretty sobering reality. But, we took a trip to Hawaii. We didn’t buy anything there, and I haven’t bought anything since.

I’ve got to figure out what to do with my money, trying to make sure I invest it in the right place. It’s funny because I’m so grateful for that financial windfall, but I’m so terrified of screwing it up because it’s an opportunity you don’t get twice in your life, so I’m like, “Geez, what do I do here?” I’ll figure it out.

Do you still have the check somewhere? What about the belt?

It’s hanging in the gym. It’s hanging up on the wall in Jeremy’s gym. The belt, my wife got me like a box — a really nice, custom-made, laser-etched wood box — for it. It’s under the bed in our guest room. It’s not going to be part of my home decor until I get a new place, I guess.

When hockey players win the Stanley Cup, they drink out of it and take it places. Did you do anything with your belt after winning? Wear it around or anything?

It was funny because the month after, you know, whenever I would go see someone I hadn’t seen for a while or go to a Sunday dinner, they would all say, “Hey, bring the belt. Everyone wants to see the belt.” So, I was that douchebag carrying around the belt everywhere.

Obviously, you announced your retirement after the tournament. You’ve mentioned before how it’s such a grueling sport and then there’s the whole CTE discussion that’s been prominent in recent years. What are your thoughts on all of that?

A lot of the conversations I ended up having after I announced my retirement, a lot of people ask about that. The conversation sort of gets steered toward, are you worried about CTE? I’m like, “Yeah, you’ve got to be.” But that’s not why I retired. I retired because it’s time. I’m not getting skinnier, I’m not getting faster, and I’m not getting stronger at this point. My body has been through a lot, and my brain has been through a lot, but I’m still myself. I’m still fine. I still feel sharp and smart, and I remember things.

If I stick around until I’m 38 or 40, will that still be the case? Well, no one finds that out until it’s too late. I got lucky having an opportunity at the right time to go out on a high note. That was more what it was about for me, was going out on a high note because nobody in the fight world does that. In boxing, they don’t do it. In MMA, they certainly don’t do it. Everyone sticks around for too long.


It happens in every sport, but in combat sports, it’s a lot more depressing. You don’t just get cut from a team; you get your ass kicked five times in a row by people who five years ago wouldn’t have been able to stand in the same ring with you. It’s depressing. Chuck Lidell is one of the greatest fighters in the history of mixed martial arts. His last showings had been depressing. It’s because I guess no one close to him has enough influence over him to just be like, “Dude, you can’t do this anymore. You’ve got to stop.” Or maybe he needs the money or whatever it is.

But I was in a position where I could walk out on a high note, and that’s such a rare opportunity that I’d be a jackass not to take it.

There’s been a lot of studies on CTE and head injuries recently, and unfortunately a lot of the times, you can’t really find the answers or anything until someone has passed. Has that been something that interests you moving forward?

I’m going to donate my brain to the (VA-BU-CLF Brain Bank) and on the Pac-12 show (on Sirius XM), we had a researcher from Stanford who’s also a fellow at the Brain Bank, and we did an interview with him. I kind of told him my background, and then after the show was over, him and I had a private phone call, and I was like, “Look man, I’m going to give you guys my brain, but I want to know if there’s anything that can happen while I’m alive, so if you’re doing research on that or if you need people to help with that, please keep me in mind because that’s what really matters.” The answers after someone’s gone, who cares? So what? It’s more compelling for the “30 for 30” they make about your life, how your personality changes in your 40s? That’s awful. That’s sad. If there’s a way we can mitigate that while people are young, even after head injuries, we’ve got to figure it out. I’d be willing to help if there’s ever a way. I’m not a brain scientist, but I could be a subject at least.

How has life after fighting been so far?

It’s been good. Honestly, I thought it would be different. I thought after winning, something would be different. Like moving into a new house or whatever, but like, we had a kid and that’s what made life different. It hasn’t been being a champ. That’s not what’s been different. It’s now you’re a dad. Sleep is a thing of the past.

I actually like it that way. It’s more fitting for my career, my life. When I was a fighter, I was just a full-time fighter. I always had a different job, always doing broadcasting on the side or whatever. The fact that fighting came in and out of my life without kind of interrupting everything else in my life I think is fitting.

Rowan is her name. She’s seven weeks old (11-12 weeks now). She’s brand new.

What’s been the most rewarding and most challenging thing about having a kid?

The lack of sleep has been the most challenging thing so far.


All the cliches that everyone tells you about how you’re going to love something so freakishly much, every person has heard those. I’ve heard those. All my friends had kids 10-15 years before me. You don’t disbelieve them, but you just don’t have an understanding of them. Literally, the first time you hold your child, everything fades into the background. You’re just like, wow.

It’s terrifying that you can love something that much, because now all that matters is her in my life. It’s probably not healthy, but it’s pretty cool also. Every little thing she does I think is the coolest thing ever. It’s been fun.

What if she grew up and wanted to fight, any sort of advice? Any sort of pause?

I would just insist she practiced the speed and the technique stuff. Because there are plenty of guys who have fought twice as much as I have and have taken half as many punches because of their style and their reflexes and things like that. If that’s something she wants to do, I’ll just try to emphasize jiu-jitsu for her, wrestling, the stuff that stops you from getting hit in the head. I’ll never stop her from doing anything because this is part of what shaped me into who I am, and what kind of hypocrite would I be if I was like, “You can’t do the things that made your dad your dad.” That would be crazy.

Your child missed that portion of your life, fighting. Would you prefer that way? Would you have liked her to catch a fight or two?

I think I prefer that she didn’t have to go through that. I think it’s neat when people bring their kids around, but I’m glad she never had to watch me get all bloodied up.

Your mom is the one who loves you the most, right? My mom has never watched me fight. She just can’t watch. She can’t stand the idea of her baby getting hurt and doesn’t like the idea of her baby hurting someone else. She’s never watched me in 30-plus fights.

It didn’t bother me. I knew that she was supportive. My parents are supportive of everything I do even if they have no understanding of it or think it’s a bad idea. They’re cool as long as they know it’s not like diminishing my quality of life or whatever. They saw that I was enjoying myself in the fight world and that it was giving me opportunities, so they were supportive of it.She’d go babysit for my sister or my brother so that they could come watch me fight. My mom would watch their kids. It’s a win-win.

I’ll fight in an empty arena. I didn’t do it so people could watch. I’m glad people enjoyed it. I’m glad people have fun with it. I’m glad I have fans if I do. But if it was me and some dude and one light bulb in an empty bar, I’d still do it.


You went on a mission trip, of sorts, a few years back. What did you do there and what was that experience like?

I was working with some nuns, helping them build a school and also mentoring the kids who were going to be living at and going to the school. My older brother hooked me up with that. I was in Zambia. It was by far the best thing I’ve done with my life because it’s (helping) a bunch of kids who are physically and sexually abused at home. The government there doesn’t have the resources to support them, so they turn them over to the Catholic church to take care of. This group of nuns, they take care of them.

I’ve taken some friends back with me, and it’s so cool to see how effective the rehab is for these girls. They’re girls from like 8 years old to 18 years old, and they get better. They go through some of the worst trauma that you could ever imagine. At first, they’re scared when they show up on the project. They don’t want to talk to you, especially me, because I sound different, look different, everything. I’m a man, right?

And then, when you go back (to visit), they run up and give you a hug because now they’re confident and secure. They’re doing good. I don’t know if this is a terrible thing to brag about or not, but one of the girls who was there the first year I went, she was so scared of me. She was terrified of me. I basically had to kidnap her out of her house in order to save her from her stepdad, so it was a traumatic experience for her. She tried to run away every day for the first couple of weeks, and I was the one who would have to run and grab her and drag her back. I had to physically pick her up and carry her back. She was like 13 at the time. It was just terrifying for her and unpleasant for me.

Her name is Shevan. This was 10 years ago. Now, she’s a mom and she named her kid Sean. So, it made me feel pretty good. I’ve gone back twice and seen her since, and she wasn’t scared of me anymore. Even when I left (the original mission trip), she wasn’t still scared of me. It was cool to know that I did something well enough that she at least thought my name was neat.

How often do you get to go back?

I’ve been back three times, and I like to go back every couple of years. This will be the fourth year (since I’ve gone last). But as long as I can get the green light from my wife, I think I’m going in August. I’m going to go back. Sister Agness, who is in charge of the project I work for, she’s celebrating her 25th year as a nun, and it’s a big milestone in her life. It’s so important to me. She’s like my sister. So I think I’m going to go and surprise her and show up at her 25th-year celebration.

What did that experience teach you about life in general?

That a person like me doesn’t have real problems. Even when things get really bad for you or you feel stressed, whatever, we don’t deal with sh*t compared to (some people). I was working with young girls in an impoverished country who didn’t know where their next meal was coming from and whose parents weren’t keeping them safe. I can’t imagine what that’s life is like.

But then those same young girls, with just a little bit of help — and young boys, we dealt with young girls but a different project was handling the boys — a lot of them with just a little bit of help, become happy and productive members of their society. There’s almost no such thing as a lost cause, and your problems are not what you think they are. I learned both of those things.


Is there anyone we haven’t talked about that has been an influential figure in your life?

So, my parents have been so huge because in my athletic career. I didn’t experience pressure from my parents. You know, there’s Tiger Woods’ dad or Serena Williams’ dad, who want this dream for you and you’re going to do it whether you want to or not. And hopefully, you get the results that they get, but the vast majority of those parents just burn their kids out.

My parents were the opposite of that. They were just like, “Do good in school. We don’t care about sports.” So, I’m really proud that I ended up being successful in an athletic endeavor because to me, it proves that you shouldn’t pressure your kids in competition like that. You shouldn’t be the hovering sports parent. I just feel like it doesn’t happen. So yeah, my parents are huge influences.

And then, you can’t really single out any one person, but just the group of friends I have here. Like I said, about 100 people came out to watch me in my final fight, and some of them I’ve been friends with since I was 9 years old. So, I’ve got a real crew that just makes you be better and supports you when you’re doing good, picks you up when you’re down. I mean, I’m lucky enough to have too many influences, too many positive influences in my life to really effectively single out one or two, but I’ve been blessed with an amazing social structure.

A lot of times, in Utah, when you’re not Mormon, that’s not the case, whether it’s your own fault or the fault of the neighbors around you or you feel ostracized. I never experience that, never, not even a little bit. So I’m super happy and proud about it because I’m fiercely protective of the idea that my people are the best people out there. I wish I could just give you a list of all their names and put a picture there because I wouldn’t be anywhere that I am without my family and my friends.

There was a time in my life when things got bad. And I wouldn’t still be here if it wasn’t for them, my friends, my close friends. I wouldn’t. I’d be gone. And for my family, I’d be gone. And then Sister Agness for me in Africa, that was the alternative for me to being gone, was that I went and did that, saved myself kind of.

My people have been literal lifesavers for me and just the coolest support structure and group of friends ever since.

(Top photo courtesy of PFL)

Q&A with Sean O’Connell: Life after a $1 million win and a storybook MMA ending (2024)
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Address: Suite 454 40343 Larson Union, Port Melia, TX 16164

Phone: +2456904400762

Job: Investor Administrator

Hobby: Sketching, Puzzles, Pet, Mountaineering, Skydiving, Dowsing, Sports

Introduction: My name is Allyn Kozey, I am a outstanding, colorful, adventurous, encouraging, zealous, tender, helpful person who loves writing and wants to share my knowledge and understanding with you.