George Ruhe for The New York Times  Newell, top, has had several bouts canceled because it can be difficult to persuade able-bodied athletes to fight a man with one hand.  With lingering bitterness, Nick Newell recalls the day he drove four hours to New Hampshire in anticipation of his fourth professional bout as a mixed martial arts fighter. He was limiting his diet to meet a contracted weight of 155 pounds; vacation days had been docked at his day job.  After having success in grappling tournaments, which prohibit strikes of any kind, Matt Betzold began lobbying Arizonaâs athletic commission to fight professionally.  When Newell arrived, his opponent was nowhere to be found. There would be no fight, and no chance to improve his record to 4-0.  “He was one of the top-ranked guys in the region at the time,” Newell said. “I guess he got cold feet and didn’t want to show up.”  Just 26 and with a credible — if unexceptional — pedigree in amateur wrestling, Newell is not so fearsome that professional fighters should cower. Yet his list of canceled bouts is long, and the reason is clear: it can be difficult to persuade able-bodied athletes to fight a man with one hand.  Newell is among the fighters known as adaptive athletes pursuing M.M.A., the grueling combat sport that combines wrestling, striking and submissions in a bonanza of soft-tissue and orthopedic damage. Previously relegated to the red-light district of sporting culture, it has gained mainstream prominence and become a test of toughness embraced by amputees who relish the challenge of modifying the sport’s techniques and surprising those who stereotype them as victims.  “Sometimes an amputation or disability will actually get people to strive to become more than they might otherwise be,” said Jeff Traub, an orthopedist in Atlanta who has worked with amputee fighters. “The amputation has led them to think, Why can’t I do this? It gives them motivation to do more.”  Such ambition has confounded state athletic commissions, the sanctioning bodies tasked with regulating prizefighting and licensing its participants. In M.M.A., where even the veterans are frequently pummeled or choked, how do you evaluate the capabilities of a fighter missing part of an arm or leg?  Last August, the Association of Boxing Commissions held its annual conference in Washington. Among the items on the agenda for the first time: dealing with the amputee prizefighter.  “We were starting to hear of quite a few states that were running across the issue,” said Tim Lueckenhoff, president of the association. “Commissioners need to decide — are we putting the fighter in a situation where they could be harmed?”  Margaret E. Goodman, a former chief ringside physician for Nevada, said in an e-mail: “If they have a medical condition that places them at a disadvantage, then they should not be granted a license to compete. The question is whether or not Mr. Newell adequately circumvents his disadvantage.”  So far, the answer seems to be yes. In six professional bouts, Newell, who does not have a left hand, has rarely been hit or even troubled by opponents. He is scheduled to fight on Friday night in Jackson, Tenn., against Chris Coggins, the first opponent in Newell’s pro career with a winning record.  A congenital amputee, Newell’s left arm ends about three inches past the elbow, which gives him a handhold to complete submissions uniquely difficult to escape from. “If he gets you in a choke, you are pretty much screwed,” his trainer, Jeremy Libiszewski, said.  For the entirety of his five-fight amateur career, Newell competed in Massachusetts, where the boxing commission had not yet been assigned authority over M.M.A. By the time he began applying for a pro license, he had set his own precedent. Faced with evidence of Newell’s abilities, states including Nevada, Florida, and New Hampshire have seen no reason not to license him.  “I had already won an amateur title,” Newell said. “They couldn’t say I couldn’t fight.”  Because each state has autonomy in licensing athletes, there is no guarantee cases like Newell’s will be treated with consistency.  Keith Miner, a fighter from Texas who lost his right hand after being pulled into a wood chipper, won approval to compete and then nearly had it revoked the night of his bout. “I was constantly being pulled aside,” Miner said. “The commission kept making phone calls. It was all up in the air.”
Amputees pursuing careers in mixed martial arts have come up against state athletic commissions concerned about licensing them and able-bodied fighters concerned about fighting them.