What in the world is the UFC doing with the Jon Jones-Tom Aspinall fiasco?

Not to get all nostalgic, but Tom Aspinall won the interim heavyweight title on November 11, 2023. That’s 558 days ago, as of Thursday. The newborns that came into the world that day are now waddling around and speaking in full sentences, saying things like “more milk” and “s*** or get off the pot, Jon Jones.”

In less than 17 years, they will be eligible to vote. You wonder if Jones will still be the UFC’s heavyweight champion by then.

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It's not that Jones is on the lam. He’s not dodging authorities (well, not exactly). He’s in Thailand living his “best life,” all while letting us know his identity outside of fighting is fully intact. Most of the modern world is happy to hear it, but it’s the thing he’s using to keep his pants up that have fight enthusiasts tracking his whereabouts. That belt of his acts like a GPS. A less sophisticated tourist would be glad to wear a belt with an ordinary buckle, but Jones has always had a thing for loud accessories.

Does he intend to unify those titles? Is he out in Thailand to relive scenes from “White Lotus?” Is he retired?

“I don’t know if I wanna call it retired,” Jones wrote in an answer to that very question on social media, “I feel like I’ll always have an ability to pop out and show em. I’ve had many breaks throughout my career, my identity outside of fighting is well intact. I’m genuinely enjoying life, I’m growing in different ways.”

Growing in different ways. Identity. Jones was the youngest to ever win a UFC title, beating Mauricio “Shogun” Rua when he was just 23 years old. Since then, that has been a big part of his identity. That’s the best of who he is, the original link to the GOAT talk. He hasn’t lost since. In fact, for those new to the sport, the only pink spot on his record was a disqualification for raining down untimely 12-to-6 elbows (now legal, BTW) on Matt Hamill in 2009.

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Otherwise, he’s been perfect.

In the cage, anyway. Outside the cage is a different matter. There have been the arrests. The orange jumpsuits. The banging of his head on Las Vegas police cars. The many different meanings of the word “stripped” he has been made to learn.

It’s been exhausting to be a Jon Jones fan. You have to believe not in second or third chances, but chances in the dozenths. If contradiction were an art form, Jones would be Modigliani. And if he’s out there trying to figure out real life — to really live the best one he can, as if prove to himself that it’s possible — it might be a minute.

Meanwhile, poor Tom Aspinall keeps checking his phone, waiting for Hunter Campbell to ring. Or UFC CEO Dana White. Hell, even matchmakers Mick Maynard or Sean Shelby just calling to check in. Is he being ghosted? Stood up? Strung along? In any case, purgatory in the prime years is the damndest thing.

The problem is that we’ve seen something like this before. Or, put another way, since moving up to heavyweight, we’ve never seen Jones fight the obvious guy. It happened with the erstwhile heavyweight champion, Francis Ngannou. A Jones-Ngannou fight was right there, the biggest we could imagine in 2023, outside of a Conor McGregor return. Instead we got Jones versus Ciryl Gane.

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Once Ngannou signed with the PFL and the Jones fight became next-to-impossible to make, they faced off in Saudi Arabia, just to rub it in. If teasing were an art form, Jones would be Rothko.

The first gray hairs are now showing up in Aspinall’s archer’s beard. He can feel the tension of his father, Andy, who has had it up to here with the sideline. Tom doesn’t dare look Wigan in the eyes because he doesn’t want to answer any questions. He is sick and tired of fan sympathy, people seeing his point-of-view but being as powerless as him to do anything about it. He doesn’t want people saying, “Poor Tom,” like I did up there a few sentences ago.

That’s not why he’s in this. He wants to fight. At this point, against anybody. So long as it’s for the belt.

The holding pattern sucks. Should he drink some beer? Should he train? Should he rant (again) on social media? Laugh? Cry? The wheeling constellations that seemed so much in his favor when he beat Sergei Pavlovich to win the placeholder belt now feel cruel as they pass over.

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And what is the UFC doing? Is anybody firing a pistol at Jones’ feet? Is it presenting ultimatums to either fight or vacate? Did it offer him the $15 million he purportedly wanted? Is there a hope that it can persuade him? Is it a holdout for November, when the UFC goes to New York again?

Or is Jones double-dealing? Telling the UFC one thing while leading his public to believe another? Seriously, does he have dirt on Dana?

White has assured people again and again the fight is happening, yet it feels more and more like it’s not. Jones is the only one who can smear egg on the boss man’s face. White, who spent the bulk of 2024 on the Jon Jones campaign trail — stubbornly defending his fight with 42-year-old Stipe Miocic, telling every reporter, influencer and content creator they were crazy if they saw him as anything other than the GOAT and the pound-for-pound king — is the one on the hook now.

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Either White makes it happen, or he doesn’t. Yet not even he can make Jones fight. That’s an adage that White has lived by since he had hair. You can’t force people to fight. If Jones doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to. And in that case, the UFC must take the belt from him.

Right? They must take it from him. This has gone on long enough.

Aspinall last defended his interim title 299 days ago. He knocked out Curtis Blaydes in exactly a minute, bringing his grand total of fight time since winning the interim title to two minutes and nine seconds. In the prime of his career, he has been in the Octagon for the same amount of time it takes to download a large file. He’s 32 years old.

How long will the UFC make him wait? How long will the UFC let Jones ride around on motorbikes, smugly not fighting?

And since when did legacy become a game of keep away?