Craig Jones BJJ: How He Disrupted Pro Grappling

Craig Jones didn’t just start a new grappling event. He detonated a bomb under the entire professional jiu-jitsu establishment, forced a reckoning with athlete pay, and single-handedly proved that combat sports entertainment and elite-level grappling don’t have to be mutually exclusive. The Craig Jones Invitational (CJI) burst onto the scene in 2024 and immediately reshaped the conversation around what professional grapplers deserve—and what fans actually want to watch.

For years, the Abu Dhabi Combat Club (ADCC) held an unchallenged monopoly on elite no-gi grappling. If you wanted to compete against the best in the world under submission-only rules, ADCC was the only game in town. Athletes traveled at their own expense, trained for years between cycles, and—here’s the part that should make your jaw drop—received almost nothing in prize money relative to the revenue the event generated. ADCC World Champions sometimes took home as little as $10,000 to $40,000, while the organization raked in millions from ticket sales, pay-per-view, and sponsorships.

Enter Craig Jones, the Australian grappler known as much for his savage leg locks as his absolutely unhinged social media presence. Jones didn’t just complain about the pay disparity. He built something to fix it.

Who Is Craig Jones?

Before understanding CJI, you need to understand the man behind it. Craig Jones is an Australian-born Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt who rose to prominence through a combination of world-class technique and a personality that breaks every mold the traditionally respectful martial arts world has ever known.

Jones first turned heads at ADCC 2017 when, as a relatively unknown competitor, he submitted Leandro Lo—one of the greatest gi competitors of all time—with a heel hook in the opening round. That single moment announced Craig Jones to the world. He went on to medal at multiple ADCC events, becoming one of the most feared no-gi competitors on the planet, particularly in the under-88kg and absolute divisions.

But Jones’s appeal extends far beyond his competition results. He built a massive following through his irreverent humor, constant trolling of fellow competitors, and willingness to say what everyone else in the sport was thinking but afraid to voice. His social media accounts became must-follow content, mixing legitimate grappling analysis with absurdist comedy, roasting of opponents, and increasingly pointed commentary about athlete compensation in the sport.

He’s also an accomplished instructor, running a hugely popular instructional series and seminars worldwide. His B-Team gym in Austin, Texas (co-founded with Nicky Ryan before their split) became one of the most respected no-gi training centers in the world. Jones later continued under his own banner, maintaining his reputation as one of the sport’s premier coaches and competitors.

The ADCC Monopoly Problem

To understand why CJI matters, you have to understand what ADCC was—and what it wasn’t doing for athletes.

ADCC has been the gold standard of submission grappling since 1998. Founded by Sheikh Tahnoon bin Zayed Al Nahyan of Abu Dhabi, the tournament runs on a biennial cycle and attracts the absolute best no-gi grapplers from around the world. Winning ADCC is widely considered the highest achievement in submission grappling.

But behind the prestige was a business model that left athletes as afterthoughts. Competitors received minimal prize money, no appearance fees, and were expected to cover their own travel and training expenses. Meanwhile, ADCC events—especially the 2022 edition in Las Vegas—sold out massive arenas and generated significant pay-per-view revenue. The athletes creating the product that fans paid to see were getting crumbs from the table.

Mo Jassim, who served as the organizer of ADCC, became the face of this system. While he worked to grow the event’s profile and commercial reach, critics—Jones chief among them—argued that growth was built on the backs of underpaid athletes. The tension between ADCC’s increasing commercialization and its stagnant athlete compensation created a powder keg that was waiting for someone to light the fuse.

Craig Jones vs. Mo Jassim: The Beef That Built CJI

The rivalry between Craig Jones and Mo Jassim didn’t emerge overnight. It was a slow burn that escalated through social media jabs, public disagreements about athlete pay, and fundamental differences in vision for the sport.

Jones began publicly questioning ADCC’s pay structure, pointing out the massive gap between event revenue and athlete compensation. He was vocal about how fighters in boxing and MMA—even mid-tier ones—earned exponentially more than the best grapplers in the world. His argument was simple: if ADCC is charging fans premium prices for tickets and pay-per-view, where is that money going?

Jassim pushed back, defending ADCC’s model and pointing to the prestige and exposure the event provided. This back-and-forth became increasingly personal, with Jones deploying his trademark humor and savage trolling against Jassim specifically. Memes, callout videos, and pointed social media posts turned what could have been a dry business dispute into one of the most entertaining rivalries in grappling.

The beef reached a point where it became clear that Jones wasn’t just talking—he was planning. When CJI was announced, the grappling world realized that Craig Jones had turned his frustration into action. He wasn’t just going to criticize ADCC anymore. He was going to compete with it directly.

CJI: The Pay Revolution

When Craig Jones announced the Craig Jones Invitational, the numbers he put forward made the entire grappling world do a double take. CJI promised a total prize purse that dwarfed anything ADCC had ever offered. We’re talking about a prize pool reportedly in the range of $2 million to $3.5 million—numbers that were previously unimaginable in professional grappling.

But it wasn’t just the winners who benefited. CJI offered guaranteed appearance fees to all invited competitors, meaning athletes would be compensated simply for showing up and competing, regardless of whether they won or lost. This was a radical departure from the ADCC model, where losing in the first round meant you’d spent thousands on preparation and travel for essentially nothing.

Jones also structured the payouts to reward exciting grappling. Submission bonuses incentivized athletes to go for the finish rather than stall for advantages or ride out decisions. This wasn’t just about paying athletes more—it was about fundamentally restructuring the incentive system to produce better matches for fans.

The pay revolution sent shockwaves through the sport. Suddenly, athletes who had accepted ADCC’s terms because there was no alternative had leverage. They could negotiate, or they could choose to compete at CJI instead. For the first time in the history of elite submission grappling, athletes had options.

Trash Talk Marketing: Selling Grappling Like Never Before

Craig Jones understood something that most grappling promoters never grasped: technique alone doesn’t sell events to mainstream audiences. You need stories. You need drama. You need personalities that casual fans can invest in emotionally.

Jones borrowed liberally from professional wrestling and MMA promotion, encouraging trash talk, building rivalries, and creating narrative arcs around matchups. His own social media presence served as the template—he showed that you could be simultaneously elite and entertaining, respectful of the art while being absolutely ruthless in promotion.

This approach was controversial within the traditionally conservative BJJ community. Many purists felt that trash talk and theatrical promotion cheapened the sport. They argued that jiu-jitsu’s ethos of respect, humility, and the gentle art philosophy was incompatible with WWE-style hype.

Jones’s response was essentially: “How’s that working out for your bank account?” He pointed to the UFC’s rise from a niche curiosity to a multi-billion dollar enterprise, arguing that personalities like Conor McGregor and Chael Sonnen proved that entertainment value drives commercial success—and commercial success drives athlete pay. You couldn’t have one without the other.

The marketing strategy worked. CJI generated more mainstream buzz than any grappling event in history. Coverage extended beyond niche BJJ media into mainstream sports outlets. Social media engagement was through the roof. Craig Jones proved that there was a massive appetite for grappling content when it was packaged and promoted properly.

CJI 2024: The Event and Results

The inaugural Craig Jones Invitational took place in 2024 and delivered on the enormous hype that had built around it. The event featured many of the best no-gi grapplers on the planet competing for the largest purses in the sport’s history.

The card was stacked with elite talent across multiple weight classes. Competitors who had dominated ADCC brackets for years now had a new stage—one that paid them what they were worth. The event featured both a tournament format and super fights, giving fans a full day of high-level grappling action.

On the mats, the competition was fierce. The submission rate was notably high, validating Jones’s approach of incentivizing finishes through bonus structures. Athletes weren’t content to win on points or advantages—they were hunting submissions from the opening whistle, creating the kind of exciting, finish-oriented grappling that fans had been craving.

Notable performances came from competitors across all weight classes, with several upsets and memorable submissions that had the grappling community buzzing for weeks afterward. The event demonstrated that paying athletes more didn’t just benefit the competitors—it created a better product for fans.

The production quality was also a step up from what grappling fans were accustomed to. Better cameras, better commentary, better pacing—CJI felt like a major sporting event rather than a niche martial arts tournament. This attention to presentation reflected Jones’s understanding that competing with ADCC meant competing not just in athlete pay but in every aspect of the viewer experience.

How Other Promotions Responded

The CJI effect rippled through the entire professional grappling landscape. Other promotions were forced to respond or risk losing their top talent to an event that was willing to pay significantly more.

ADCC, for its part, faced increasing pressure to raise its prize money and offer appearance fees. The 2024 grappling landscape saw a marked shift in how promotions talked about and structured athlete compensation. What had been accepted as normal—athletes competing for prestige alone—was suddenly indefensible when a competing event was offering life-changing money.

Other grappling organizations like Who’s Number One (WNO) by FloGrappling, Polaris, and the growing number of professional grappling events all had to recalibrate their value propositions. Some leaned into offering more competitive pay. Others tried to differentiate through ruleset innovations or unique formats. But everyone was now operating in a landscape where CJI had set a new floor for what athletes could expect.

The UFC’s approach to grappling also evolved, with organizations like the UFC Fight Pass Invitational offering increased purses. The rising tide of CJI was lifting boats across the entire combat sports grappling spectrum.

Perhaps most significantly, CJI demonstrated that there was room for more than one major event in professional grappling. The assumption that ADCC’s monopoly was natural and inevitable was shattered. Competition, it turned out, was good for everyone—athletes, fans, and the sport itself.

What This Means for Pro Grappling’s Future

Craig Jones and CJI didn’t just create a new tournament. They fundamentally altered the trajectory of professional grappling. The implications are massive and will play out over years to come.

Athlete empowerment is here to stay. Once athletes have tasted real compensation, there’s no going back. Future generations of grapplers will enter a sport where being paid fairly is the expectation, not the exception. This will attract more athletic talent to jiu-jitsu, as gifted athletes who might have chosen MMA, wrestling, or other combat sports for financial reasons will see grappling as a viable career path.

Entertainment value will drive growth. CJI proved that you can maintain technical excellence while embracing entertainment and personality-driven promotion. Expect to see more grapplers developing their personal brands, engaging in rivalries, and treating social media as an essential part of their careers. The “shut up and train” era is over.

Competition between promotions benefits everyone. ADCC’s monopoly kept prices low for athletes and limited innovation in how events were presented. With CJI and potentially other well-funded events entering the space, promotions will have to compete for talent and viewers. This competition will drive up pay, improve production quality, and push everyone to create better events.

Grappling could reach mainstream audiences. The ceiling for professional grappling has always been limited by poor promotion and a niche-first mentality. If CJI’s marketing approach is replicated and refined, grappling events could eventually compete for mainstream sports attention in ways that seemed impossible just a few years ago.

The ruleset conversation will evolve. As more money enters the sport, the pressure to create exciting, fan-friendly rulesets will intensify. Expect to see continued experimentation with submission-only formats, time limits, overtime structures, and other innovations designed to produce more exciting matches.

Craig Jones’s Legacy Beyond the Mats

Whether CJI becomes an annual institution or evolves into something else entirely, Craig Jones has already secured a legacy that transcends his considerable competition achievements. He proved that one person with the right platform, the right message, and the audacity to act could reshape an entire sport.

Jones showed that athletes don’t have to accept the status quo. He demonstrated that humor and irreverence could be powerful tools for change. He proved that paying athletes fairly wasn’t just the right thing to do—it was good business that produced a better product.

For every grappler who earns more because CJI raised the bar, for every fan who watches a more exciting event because promotions are competing for their attention, for every young athlete who chooses jiu-jitsu because they can see a future in it—Craig Jones and CJI are part of that story.

The Australian who first turned heads with a heel hook on Leandro Lo ended up doing something even more remarkable than any submission: he changed the game entirely. Professional grappling before CJI and professional grappling after CJI are two fundamentally different things. And for athletes and fans alike, the version that comes after is dramatically better.

Love him or hate him—and plenty of people feel strongly either way—Craig Jones forced an industry to evolve. That’s not just disruption. That’s revolution.