Great fights don’t just entertain, but have both fighters display technical prowess. There have to be high stakes involved, limiting the selection to title bouts or those with historical significance like Griffin vs. Bonnar. The fights which check all three boxes are slim pickings indeed.

Well, Zhang Weili and Joanna Jedrzejczyk put on one of the greatest MMA fights in history.

The Combatants

The champion Zhang shouldn’t have even received her original title shot. Jessica had knocked Karolina Kowalkiewicz senseless with a right hook and then slammed Rose Namajunas to win the title. So giving a title shot to Zhang after winning a decision over a skidding Tecia Torres seemed a bit daft. Well, the moment Michael Bisping uttered the words, “she can’t stay in the pocket!”, Zhang did just that. She caught Andrade with a couple of clean shots before lighting her up with a counter right hook and then kneeing her into oblivion.

Joanna’s credentials need no mentioning. Undefeated in her first 14 fights and defending the title 5 times, Joanna is the greatest strawweight in history. A world champion Muay Thai fighter, Jedrzejczyk is WMMA’s premier volume striker. At range she’d pick opponents apart with long kicks and straight punches until they wilted. Many women would desperately try to smother her, tiring themselves against her takedown defense while eating elbows and knees. A pair of losses to Namajunas and an ill-fated move to flyweight stunted her momentum, but a win over Michelle Waterson moved her next in line.

The Clash

The opening rounds saw Joanna fighting as only she can; long punches and combinations punctuated by stinging leg kicks steadily accumulating damage. But Joanna found herself at a significant power disadvantage. Zhang didn’t have great combination striking, but she sat on her punches and picked her shots well. And after eating multiple kicks, Zhang caught one and fired a hard right hand down the pipe. Her kicks came with far less frequency than Joanna’s, but landed with depth and a weighty “thud.”

But, reminiscent of the Namajunas rematch, Joanna’s leg work paid off in rounds three and four.

Zhang was still dangerous, but she’d slowed visibly. Plus, she had the habit of jabbing once or twice before firing her right hand. Solid fundamentals to be sure, but predictable with a bit of observation. And Joanna, multiple world champion striker that she was, noticed. Joanna rarely had to worry about a right-hand lead, so she could be sure the first punch of a combination was a jab. She’d prep, wait, and then slip under Zhang’s right cross and counter. Zhang still got shots in, but the fight was 2-2 heading into the fifth.

Unfortunately for Joanna, the fight resembled the Namajunas rematch in another way as well.

Joanna showed a susceptibility to the left hook; it was two leaping hooks that stole her title and left hooks that hurt in the rematch. And it was Zhang’s left hook that made the difference. Despite losing rounds 3-4 to Joanna’s combination blows, Zhang landed several huge left hands. Whenever Joanna slipped under her right hand, Zhang would torque her body back around for a left hook. I’m not exaggerating when I say Zhang won every right-left hook trade she engaged in.

And this is all on top of the Frankenstein hematoma that Zhang inflicted with one of her few landed right hands in the third round.

Oh, and I believe Joanna now when she said the knockout loss to Namajunas was due to a weight cut. Those Makunouchi Ippo style left hooks could have knocked Magneto’s fillings lose and Joanna still kept coming. Her chin is validated. But Justin Gaethje, Chuck Liddell, and Mark Hunt will tell you that you can’t trade on your chin forever. And towards the end of the fourth round, Joanna slowed down. Not from fatigue, but sheer trauma.

Joanna fought the fifth round bravely but she couldn’t withstand Zhang’s power. She could no longer slip the right hands, instead eating them on the edge of the range. The left hooks that had shook her to her heels now crushed her nose across her face. Zhang, to her credit, caught a second wind and proceeded to drill Joanna. And the challenger (feels weird to say that), to her credit, survived.

The Legacy

Because WMMA has a smaller number of fights, participants, and shallower talent pool (for now at least) overall, it struggles to produce truly great fights. Well not only did Zhang and Joanna produce a great fight, but they also produced one of the greatest of all time.

Let me put it this way: what did either fighter really do wrong?

Shogun Rua had no business winging wide right hands against such a compact power puncher like Dan Henderson. Gray Maynard never should have let Frankie Edgar rest for a round after crushing him in the opener. Even the legendary Robbie Lawler vs. Rory MacDonald rematch involved the latter desperately throwing elbow shots from outside range and eating several fight altering shots in return.

Zhang and Joanna, on the other hand, fought as well as they possibly could. Joanna ate so much punishment not because she made mistakes, but because Zhang was just that good. And Zhang whiffed on a lot of shots in the middle round because Joanna was targeting her legs so much. We watched two of the greatest female UFC fighters in WMMA put on as close to a perfect as they could.

A fan’s dream. I’ll remember where I was when I watched this. And so will everyone else.

The post Zhang Weili edges Joanna Jedrzejczyk in one of the greatest fights of all time appeared first on The Body Lock.

And so Weidman joins a dubious list; fighters who moved up in weight only to do worse. In just the past few months, two other notable examples include Luke Rockhold (the man who took his title) and James Vick.

But why has this happened? You’d expect them to give up a strength advantage, but why are they getting slept?

Weight = Power

Imagine that your friend has a job waking up every day at 4 am and working for 8 hours. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get enough sleep and he’s getting very sore and tense. When you express your concerns, he tells you that he got a new shift with the same pay! One where he gets to start at 10 am! But he works 10 hour days and has to do it barefoot.

What I’m trying to say is that the costs sometimes outweigh the benefits, even if the current situation sucks. Or in other words, it makes no difference if you can take a shot 20% better if the opponents are now hitting 30% harder.

Despite finishing 1-4 at middleweight, Weidman had a great chin. Both Lyoto Machida and Vitor Belfort caught him with tremendous shots that rattled him but didn’t drop him. Only Yoel Romero and Jacare Souza had truly KO’d him and they needed extraordinary blows to do so; Romero needed a flying knee counter and Souza broke him down with liver punches before countering him on his temple. Yet a single punch from Reyes dazed Weidman so much that he couldn’t even defend the hammer fists.

Rockhold’s boxing means he gets clipped, but he usually recovers fine. But the first glancing blow Blachowicz landed wobbled him badly. The power on up kicks are hard to judge, but Price’s legs are longer and heavier than most lightweights. One would expect it would hurt a lot more against your jaw.

Too little, too late

Compounding on the issue of increased power at heavier divisions is that some fighters move up weight as a last resort.

When Robert Whittaker moved to middleweight, he’d already lost four times. But aside from a single TKO against counter savant Stephen Thompson, Whittaker escaped without a lot of damage. He (correctly) figured he’d do better at middleweight and proactively made the move. He wasn’t forced to move because he suffered a string of rough losses. Weidman’s move came after a body-breaking and soul-crushing KO. Their physical conditions when they made the transition is leagues apart.

A 1-4 skid isn’t just hard on the body; it erodes the spirit.

With all due respect to Kelvin Gastelum (who took Israel Adesanya to five rounds), he’s not an ideal middleweight. His extraordinary cardio and work rate is offset by his diminutive height, reach and strength. And yet Weidman considered beating him in a close back and forth affair worth getting emotional over. He’d lost three straight fights all of which he’d arguably been leading, and it felt good to win again.

Which made his loss to Jacare so much tougher; he lost a fight he started out winning. That’s not a fighter who’s ready to take heavier punishment. Rockhold was countered twice over his right hand with left hooks for a pair of devastating KO losses. Even if Rockhold dedicated himself to improving his boxing, why test it against fighters who hit even harder? After you’ve suffered two bad KO losses?

Honestly, Vick’s case is just sad. Even before his fight against Price, Vick has suffered three terrifying KO losses. Yes, Niko Price’s up-kick caught him perfectly. But I think that after getting his consciousness severed cleanly multiple times, Vick’s brain didn’t have the fortitude to resist the up kick. If he’d moved to welterweight before the Justin Gaethje fight, it may have been a different story.

Size matters

The most immediate worry about moving up in weight is that your opposition will be larger than you. Considering the different heights and reaches, sparring partners can only help so much.

Consider Reyes, who stands 6-foot-4 with a 77-inch reach. He is Weidman’s tallest opponent and he only gave up an inch of reach. Weidman’s right-hand entry on Reyes against the fence wasn’t perfect by any means; he should’ve brought his right hand back to his chin or try to get back onto his rear foot instead of advancing with his guard down. But at middleweight, his opponents either felt his power or feared the takedown. But the tall, lengthy and powerful Reyes simply took a half step back and pasted his jaw.

Rockhold got away with poor defense due to his height and length, but Blachowicz nullified the latter with his 78-inch wingspan. David Branch also sports 78-inch reach, and he gave Rockhold fits in the opening salvos. When Rockhold cut to 185 pounds, he retained enough physical strength that he could physically outmaneuver fighters who went in on him. But at 205 pounds, he couldn’t do anything when he clinched. Blachowicz isn’t a middleweight trying to get healthy, but a legitimate light heavyweight.

The sad part is after these last series of losses, there’s nothing left for these fighters. Weidman’s brain and psyche is battered, and I don’t think he’ll cut back to middleweight after losing so many fights. Rockhold now openly contemplates retirement. And I’ve been saying James Vick needs to save himself from himself for a while now. A better weight cut did nothing for these men.

So if you want to move up in weight, do it. But don’t do it like these guys.

The post Chris Weidman, Luke Rockhold and James Vick: 3 reasons some fighters shouldn’t move up in weight appeared first on The Body Lock.

For non-fans and sensible fans, we’re going to explore how McGregor cornered himself. For the typical Conor fans, I have a bottle of cheap whiskey and a coloring book (you’ll have to share). Don’t worry, US Prohibition tactics of poisoning bootleg liquor are frowned upon so you’re safe. Though if the reviews are to be believed, the effect may be the sa . . . oh they’re already necking the bottle.

Anyway, McGregor’s absence after his expected drubbing at the hands of Khabib Nurmagomedov leaves him in a bind. On the one hand, he still carries ridiculous clout and can name his next opponent. On the other hand, I’m not sure he can name an opponent that won’t beat him to a pulp. Because being a lightweight can suck royally.

1. Dustin Poirier

This is the “safest” option by far. After all, Conor finished Poirier in the opening round when they first met.

Despite Poirier’s brilliance at lightweight, he can still be hit and hurt. Both Eddie Alvarez and Max Holloway found his chin repeatedly before succumbing to his natural, fluid power striking. He doesn’t defend leg kicks as well as he should, evidenced by the damage both Justin Gaethje and Jim Miller inflicted. Conor’s beautiful counter left straight and the leg kicks he showed in the Diaz rematch should give him a fighting chance.

That being said, Poirier beat all four of the fighters used in the example.

Both he and McGregor carry more power at lightweight than featherweight, but Poirier has a larger sample size to pull from. He’s fought wrestlers, submission artists, knockout artists, and technicians while performing remarkably. Conor’s two fights at lightweight are Eddie Alvarez and Khabib Nurmagomedov.

That’s a short guy who dives in on punches (aka counter fodder) and possibly the greatest lightweight on Earth. Not much to go off of.

2. Justin Gaethje

As his nickname “The Highlight” suggests, Justin Gaethje is must-see TV. For the overwhelming majority of his career, Gaethje absorbed the kind of damage that makes NFL players go “See, THAT’s what CTE looks like!” Like a poor barterer, Gaethje was willing to absorb 3-4 strikes to deliver one. And until he got into the UFC, that strategy worked.

After two bone-crunching knockouts at the hands of Eddie Alvarez and Dustin Poirier, Gaethje decided he could still knock people silly without going full Homer Simpson. Three straight first-round knockout wins validated this decision. His most recent knockout against Cerrone was particularly impressive. Rather than a result of his aggression, he stepped back and countered him with a beautiful right hand.

Again, McGregor has a puncher’s chance in the fight. And I’m not saying that to be insulting. But against a taller fighter with ridiculous power, a granite chin, decent defense with brutal leg kicks? Is that really the fight McGregor wants to take, especially when dealing with ring rust?

And the crazy thing is that Gaethje is still a way better matchup than the next two men on this list.

3. Tony Ferguson

I’ve sung the praises of Tony Ferguson so much that you’re probably as tired as I am.

Mcgregor carved a swath of destruction through featherweight for two primary reasons: he was taller and longer. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not a guaranteed win. As James Vick’s decline showed, length can be a curse as much as a gift. But Conor used a tried and true pattern; harass them at length, wait for them to lunge and slam them with a counter left.

How is that supposed to work against Tony Ferguson, who has a two-inch height advantage and four-inch reach advantage? A man who is 15-1 in the lightweight division and hasn’t received a title shot only due to his injury-prone nature? A guy who while happily roll for leg locks as much as he’ll cut you to ribbons with elbows?

4. Khabib Nurmagomedov

Okay, let’s say McGregor’s fouls are called regularly. How do you see this fight going? No seriously.

There’s a reason that the Jose Aldo rematch is being teased. Aldo is short and, when pressed, will sit down on his heels and swing wildly. While this worked against Jeremy Stephens and Renato Moicano, McGregor and Holloway took advantage to finish him. As much as I love Aldo, a rematch would be a gimme fight.

So fans, plastic fake whiskey survivors… what do you think?

The post Conor McGregor is out of safe options for a comeback appeared first on The Body Lock.

And yet, I’m excited. Pettis vs. Diaz at UFC 241 will be amazing not because of their strengths, but their weaknesses.

Neither can wrestle

With 19 submission wins between them, Diaz and Pettis can grapple. But neither of them wrestle to get the opponent there.

Nate smacks his opponent with volume boxing until, hurt or exhausted, they shoot on his hips. At that point, he’ll snake his gangly arms and legs around them to secure a finish. Overplayed as it is, his win over McGregor is an excellent representation of his finishing pattern. Pettis is a bear trap, able to secure submissions in a split second off his back. If not for some weird refereeing, he may well have submitted Dustin Poirier.

But watching either go for a takedown is downright sad. There’s a lot of “shoot a double leg and lay on them against the fence” when they actually try to wrestle. The most successful wrestling we’ve seen from the pair is when Pettis tried to bounce back from his debut loss to Clay Guida against Jeremy Stephens. And to be fair, that was several years and a weight class ago.

What I’m trying to say is that this fight will remain standing. Fans are guaranteed a rock’em sock’em fight because neither fighter can get the fight to the ground if it comes to it!

Neither can one-shot KO the other

Out of the two fighters, only Pettis has one-shot knockout victories on his resume; kicking Joe Lauzon’s jaw into low orbit and his superman hook against Stephen Thompson. But Lauzon, tough as he is, has gaping holes in his striking and the punch against Thompson was a fluke. Diaz can rattle men to their heels with his left cross but never sleeps them with a single punch.

This prevents the fight from concluding due to a “lucky” shot. As fun as it was to watch Jorge Masvidal crush Ben Askren in five seconds, did we learn anything? Masvidal is the clear winner, but do we actually know who is the better fighter? Did fans have more fun than if Masvidal KO’d Askren after a three-round back and forth war? I don’t think so.

Let’s not forget that both fighters possess incredible chins. Pettis has only truly been KO’d by Max Holloway, a fight in which he cut a titanic amount of weight against possibly the best MMA fighter alive. Diaz only lost by KO to Josh Thomson, a fight in which he was allegedly injured coming in and Thomson set up a brilliant faked head kick.

If either man wants to put the other down, they’ll have to earn it the hard way.

Neither is a welterweight

Hearing this fight would take place at welterweight was like hearing your best friend proposed to the love of his life at a sewage treatment plant. I’m thrilled that it’s happening, but why here?

Nate is tall but incredibly lanky, and he doesn’t have the physical strength to compete at welterweight. The worst stretch of his career was at welterweight when wrestlers like Rory Macdonald and Dong Hyun Kim controlled him with ease. Pettis is only 5-foot-10 and while he had no business cutting to featherweight, was a perfect lightweight. His move may have had more to do with his dismal lightweight record than a desire to “cut less weight.”

That being said, there’s a clear upside to the fight happening at welterweight.

MMA is the hurting business, so injuries are expected. But both Nate and Pettis suffer a lot of injuries either before or during fights. And while they still put on a show every time, it’s deflating for their fans to watch them struggle while not being 100%. Weight cutting can be brutal and often exacerbates the chance for injuries. It won’t stop injuries like Pettis’ broken hand against Tony Ferguson, but it should increase the chance that both fighters are at their healthiest on fight day.

Since the fight is only three rounds, the cardio aspect won’t matter as much. That being said, both men will fight with a full tank of gas.

It’s a dream fight for the nihilists of MMA fandom. None of it matters and neither fighter is elite. And yet, I’m drooling.

This may be the best fight of 2019.

The post 3 weird reasons why Anthony Pettis vs. Nate Diaz could be the best fight of 2019 appeared first on The Body Lock.

Colby Covington deserves a title shot

I despise loudmouths who can use their promotional value to talk their way into big fights. So understand how much it pains me to say that Covington may be the second-best welterweight in the UFC.

That’s ahead of fighters like Jorge Masvidal, who gave Ben Askren his only career loss. Or Leon Edwards who capped an eight-fight win streak with a dissection of Rafael Dos Anjos. And while Tyron Woodley is a more explosive athlete and harder hitter, Covington has the deeper gas tank and paces himself better. Only Kamaru Usman can claim to be objectively superior to Covington, and he’s a honey badger in disguise.

His wrestling pressure is direct and smothering, reminiscent of a prime Chael Sonnen. But unlike Sonnen, Covington possesses functional boxing as showed by the uppercut that split Lawler’s guard. His body kick won’t make highlight reels, but it stings and his grappling makes fighters wary of closing in. In fact, it’s hard to think of any current welterweight that wouldn’t have some trouble stopping his double leg against the fence.

Robbie Lawler is getting old

After fighting outside the UFC for several years as a middleweight, Lawler came back in 2013 as a noticeably better welterweight. While retaining his younger savagery, new Lawler was also a cerebral counter boxer. Despite having average hand speed, his smooth delivery let him connect with shocking power on a regular basis. Not only did he improve his takedown defense, but he also showed a remarkable ability to nullify opponents’ offense from guard.

Think about Lawler’s run to the title and ask yourself this: is Colby Covington the best wrestler/striker hybrid he’s faced? Over a juiced-up Johny Hendricks who could actually manage his weight? Or the incredibly tough and technical Rory MacDonald?

Not even close.

The Lawler who rolled with Hendricks’ best shots while returning fire is a far cry from the man who almost cowered against Covington’s volume punching. Or the guy who let both Hendricks and MacDonald tire themselves shooting for takedown after takedown. We knew Lawler wasn’t championship caliber anymore, but it might be time to admit that he has nothing left for the elite.

Welterweight is the land of the wrestlers

Great wrestlers aren’t unique to welterweight (see Henry Cejudo, Jon Jones, Khabib Nurmagomedov, etc.). What sets welterweight apart is the sheer density of top-tier wrestlers.

The top three in the UFC rankings are Kamaru Usman, Tyron Woodley, and Colby Covington. That’s an absolute murderer’s row of championship-caliber wrestling. Would you like explosive power, tiring aggression, or a combination of the three? Lucky for you, the best welterweights can provide it all!

After them, the weakest wrestler in the UFC welterweight top five is Leon Edwards. And Edwards can grapple, he just chooses not to because of his smooth striking and footwork. Rafael Dos Anjos submitted Kevin Lee, and Jorge Masvidal is a dog who is happy to drag a fight to the mat if that’s what it takes.

Despite the superstar status of fighters like Georges St-Pierre, wrestlers are a nightmare for the UFC brass. The average viewer prefers striking to grappling and wrestlers can slow a fight’s pace to a crawl. There’s a reason Conor McGregor’s path to the featherweight belt (and return) avoided Frankie Edgar.

And yet, the brass doesn’t have a choice. Darren Till may have avoided wrestlers up until Woodley, but the ranks are so dense with them now that the next Till won’t get the chance. The next welterweight challenger needs exceptional takedown defense or be a wrestler themselves.

Whatever your feelings about Covington, there is no doubt that he’s the rightful challenger to Usman. And Robbie Lawler either needs to retire or be put against a striker so he can have fun in his twilight. So let’s anticipate this newest title match while pondering what kind of grappling beast is needed to threaten the title.

The post 3 things we learned from Colby Covington’s win over Robbie Lawler appeared first on The Body Lock.

Potential elite

At 6-foot-3 and 76-inch reach, Vick is a stupidly long lightweight. That’s two inches of height on Nate Diaz and only an inch behind Luke Rockhold’s reach. And in his early career, it showed.

Despite debuting in the UFC with only four prior fights, Vick understood how to use his length. There’s shades of Nate Diaz in how Vick’s long punches snap at the very edge of their range with surprising power. And while he’s not a talented hooker, his stiff uppercut against a leaning Joe Duffy showed his traditional power punching..

And when an opponent naturally tries to close the distance, Vick’s knees do the trick. Defensively, he’ll catch opponents weaving low with a huge knee up the middle. If he feels like it, he’ll use the leverage from his height for offensive knees in the Thai clinch. He possesses the fancy Jon Jones back kicks, but those were more for show than effectiveness.

A year and a half ago, he was 13-1 and climbing fast. As it turns out, that one loss foreshadowed carnage to come.

Curse of length

Had he fought anywhere but the super stacked lightweight division, Beneil Dariush would be a top 15 fighter. That being said, his ceiling was far lower than the streaking Vick, especially in the striking department.

But about four minutes into the fight, Vick threw a hard right cross. With good speed and power, its only flaw was that he telegraphed it slightly. Dariush slipped inside and countered with a hard left hook to the chin that wobbled Vick. And instead of covering up, Vick repeatedly extended his arms trying to either push Dariush away or grab his power hand. Neither worked and after a couple more hard left hands Vick lay cold on the canvas.

No matter how hard a fighter trains, their tendencies are guided by what/who they encounter. It’s why in boxing, orthodox fighters can struggle facing a southpaw. Or why it took fighters so long to figure out Lyoto Machida’s karate. In Vick’s case, his muscle memory is set by the fact that he’s taller and longer than everyone in his division. Extending his arms and moving away to relieve pressure worked for him most of the time.

But when an opponent finds a way past the arms, it becomes a huge defensive liability.

Justin Gaethje is a monster, but he came into their fight a slight underdog for a reason. And throughout most of the first round, Vick kept him honest with body kicks and long shots. But the moment Gaethje took him to the fence, his hands went low and a single hook melted him. And most recently, Dan Hooker was able to wade forward with a right-left and catch him clean for yet another knockout. Dariush sits down on his left hand and Gaethje is just a honey badger in human form, but Hooker?

No options left

The knockout loss to Hooker is Vick’s third in a row, and his second knockout loss in little over a year. And when I say knockouts, I don’t mean “the referee decided you’ve taken too much punishment.” I mean “James Vick had a brief conversation with his ancestors before waking up to a flashlight” knockouts. And that would be the third such knockout loss in his career. Vick himself expressed displeasure at my assessment of his skill following the win over Francisco Trinaldo, yet I’d like to point out that the Brazilian barely missed him with left hooks. If Trinaldo was slightly larger and a bit younger, I think we’d be seeing another highlight-reel knockout.

Factually speaking, Vick has no chance of fighting for the UFC lightweight title. And with his frame, I wouldn’t even joke about moving to featherweight. Yet a welterweight move could spell disaster.

Remember, Luke Rockhold moved up to light heavyweight after knockout losses at middleweight. But instead of reaping the advantages of cutting less weight, his natural size advantage was mitigated and he couldn’t absorb 205-pound power. The same boxing flaws that doomed his middleweight career now may send him into retirement. Does anyone think that the James Vick who couldn’t defend a right-left from Dan Hooker will stand a chance against the monstrous UFC welterweight division?

End of the road

Vick sits on a confluence of awfulness. He cannot survive in his career division, yet he cannot move weight. And he’s absorbed horrific punishment, the kind that shows up years later. Plus, fan base or not, Vick is a non-contender who has lost three fights in a row while making around $60-65,000 in base pay. Bellator loves UFC cast-offs but I don’t know if Vick has the star power to command a good price from them.

I feel awful for Vick, but it’s time for him to hang it up. He must tolerate the disappointment of being yet another talent who thought they could take gold, yet fell spectacularly short. I hope he can find another career and enjoy his family with his brain still intact.

Ride off into the sunset, Texecutioner. You did alright.

The post After his third knockout loss, James Vick should consider retirement appeared first on The Body Lock.

So imagine my surprise when a recent nerd expedition unearthed Teppu.

Little gold, no glory

The gym which Teppu joins is full of women holding down jobs while seeing how far they can go in MMA. While they are all comrades in arms, there’s a gray undertone when they speak about their career prospects. The only “glorified” WMMA fighter is a prodigy; a daughter of an undefeated Brazilian champion who doesn’t attend the protagonist’s gym. And even she can barely even attract people to an MMA club at her school!

But the women are never the objects of pity. Despite the harsh reality of WMMA, they are all proud fighters. Their objective is never validation, but to best themselves and their competition. If it seems like I’m being vague, its because so much Teppu revolves around its “protagonist.”

Hero/Villain

Naturally talented, pretty and intelligent yet arrogant and condescending, Natsuo Ishida is a piece of work. Because she excelled so far past her peers with no effort, Natsuo quickly found herself alienated. She acts like she’s better because she is better. She quits school clubs because there’s little challenge and humbles anyone who tries to knock her down a peg.

But in a twist, Natsuo is not the villain of Teppu; she’s the protagonist. And the “antagonist” is a kind, humble girl who works incredibly hard. Her worst offense is fighting Natsuo on even footing without having natural talent. This makes Teppu less about “grind from the bottom” and more “What if Jon Jones was a high school girl.”

And it’s awesome.

As we delve into her backstory, it becomes clear that Natsuo is damaged. That behind a facade of perfection is an inferiority complex and an abusive situation with her brother. She hates her rival because fighting her on even footing means that she was wrong about her life. Heavy stuff for a teenage girl to handle. And so while we don’t cheer for Natsuo to win, we do cheer for her to grow. Teppu is the story of a mean person with the world in the palm of her hand trying to heal her wounds

Ending too soon

The biggest tragedy with Teppu is that the author, Moare Oota, cut it short due to serious health issues. Oota clearly intended for a longer series, giving Natsuo a true redemption arc and addressing some of her demons. Instead, Teppu ends after Natsuo and her rival’s second fight.

I do respect the decision, considering the circumstances. Instead of condensing an entire story’s worth of growth into a few paltry chapters, he decided to take what little growth Natsuo had achieved and leave on a hopeful note.

For those of you who love WMMA but can’t find enough related material, give Teppu a read. It’s not the MMA manual that All-Rounder Meguru is, but a far more fascinating character study. Again, assuming you’re willing to read right to left…

The post Teppu is the manga WMMA deserves appeared first on The Body Lock.

Without meaning to disrespect Santos, Jones is the easiest money a bettor can make at UFC 239. But like any good competitor, I assume that Santos vehemently disagrees. So if the Brazilian hammer wishes to shock the world, what’s he gotta do?

Move laterally

Standing 6-foot-4 with an 85-inch reach, trying to fight on the outside with Jones is a fool’s errand. It’s like a child trying to fight his dad; impossible for obvious reasons and embarrassing for both parties involved. And he doesn’t even really have a jab. No, Jones does most of his out-fighting with snap and elliptical kicks. These linear kicks were enough to have the cardio-machine Daniel Cormier sucking wind in their first fight.

But in their first fight, Alexander Gustafsson revealed the obvious solution: move around Jones. Linear strikes can be dodged with lateral movement, and smart fighters avoid whiffing kicks. Jones is half the boxer he is the kickboxer, and all of a sudden the deceptive short-armed Gustafsson had the boxing match he wanted.

Santos doesn’t have the grace or stride of the towering Swede, but he doesn’t need to. He’s not trying to rack points over many engagements, but inflict massive damage over a few.

Cut the Octagon

The man who best had a chance to beat Jon Jones, Daniel Cormier, squandered his first opportunity by chasing. In close, Cormier’s muscled dough boy frame and wrestling pedigree put him on equal footing. But he spent the majority of the fight walking in a straight line, seemingly oblivious to the straight shots to the gut and legs.

Being the power hitter, Santos will be the one moving forward. Should the fight drag into the later rounds, there’s no way he can match the champion’s gas tank. He cannot afford to eat strikes to close distance only to have Jones circle away. Jones is too lanky to win a brawl based on hand speed, so if Santos can keep him in front he may win a few exchanges.

Aim low

Jones is just too tall and too defensively savvy to rely on head shots for damage. There’s a reason the last person to land multiple head shots successfully stood 6-foot-5 with stride length and hand speed.

If and when Santos closes the distance and gets in money range, he needs to target the legs and gut… at least at first. Checked leg kicks can still be effective and the body can’t move like the head, so he’s guaranteed to inflict damage. Plus, low targets sap mobility and stamina which are two massive disadvantages Santos needs to mitigate.

And they don’t need to hurt Jones to be effective. Like a solitary housefly repeatedly landing on your computer screen, annoying can be enough to draw a reaction. Land enough punches to the gut or slapping leg kicks and Jones will react. And that’s when Santos can surprise him with power over the top. We’ve seen this work in the biggest upset in UFC history before.

Accept possible humiliation

Under no circumstances can Santos afford a long fight. Jones can adapt in the space of a single round, and no one wins the championship rounds against him. If Santos finds himself getting beat early, he should bite down on his mouthpiece and start brawling.

Laugh if you want, but Cormier’s second loss to Jones was ten times better than his first even without considering the No Contest. Yes, Jones finished Cormier the only time in his long and storied career. Yes, he’ll have to watch his corpse flop uselessly on highlight reels for years to come. But he made it a fight. He measured Jones and fought on equal footing for as long as it lasted. And then eventually, the risk of a high octane pursuit of Jones came to fruition in the form of a head kick.

If Santos wants any chance of winning, he has to be okay with losing. He has to be okay with Jones shooting under his right hand, grounding him, and submitting him early. Because trying not to lose spells doom against Jones.

I give Santos less of a chance against Jones than Anthony Smith, but who knows? He may surprise us.

The post 4 things Thiago Santos needs to do to beat Jon Jones at UFC 239 appeared first on The Body Lock.

But… this is Tony Ferguson, the most dangerous lightweight on the planet. How can “Cowboy” win?

1. Leg Kicks

When Al Iaquinta counted off the injuries suffered against Cerrone, it wasn’t the broken nose or fractured orbital that got him worst; it was the leg kicks.

Very little of Cerrone’s towering 6-foot frame translates to his reach, but his legs show the length well. Even though his legs lack the raw muscle of other leg kickers like Edson Barboza and Justin Gaethje, the sheer amount of time they have to accelerate means they land like home run swings at max range. Ferguson possesses slender legs as well, and a few solid shots onto his injury-prone knees will change the fight.

2. Slow starter

One of the reasons Ferguson is so dangerous is that you can drop him, bloody him and he won’t care. Lando Vannata, Kevin Lee and Anthony Pettis all inflicted massive damage only for Ferguson to finish them later. But as Justin Gaethje proved in back to back losses, there’s only so long you can trade with your chin.

Will Cerrone be the one to crack it? It’s possible.

3. Momentum

Ferguson may be riding an 11 (!!!) fight win streak, but he’s only fought three times in the past three years with an injury in between. Ring rust can be serious, especially in a division as brutal as lightweight. And severe to someone who already starts slow like Ferguson. Cerrone’s fight rate makes my joints hurt just reading about it, but he’s never out of practice. With three wins in six months and the last two at lightweight, Cerrone can step in next week and fire on all cylinders.

That’s all well and good but let me restate this: Tony Ferguson is the most dangerous lightweight on the planet. So Cerrone losing is equally (if not more) plausible. And for very good reasons.

1. Length

Ferguson stands an inch shorter than Cerrone, but possesses a gorilla’s reach of 76″. Cerrone may be a better boxer than years past, but it’s still his primary weakness. Both Alexander Hernandez and Al Iaquinta had their best moments when they got into the pocket and forced Cerrone to trade. Cowboy manages these boxing exchanges by controlling the distance, stepping in or back to keep opponents in his sweet spots.

But Ferguson loves landing long, thudding punches to the head and body. He will be the one adjusting and forcing Cerrone out of his comfort zone. If Jorge Masvidal could rip Cerrone’s body and come over the top, Ferguson most certainly can as well.

2. No intercepting knees

Cerrone’s “resurgence” at lightweight after a rough stretch can be attributed in large part to his intercepting knees. Because he’s so tall and long for a lightweight, opponents have to explode forward to touch his chin. Instead of skipping away, Cerrone now opts to slam knees into their midsection. These aren’t the liver-dissolving knees of Alistair Overeem but they hurt. Eddie Alvarez nearly TKO’d Cerrone in his UFC debut but slowed as the taller man read his dives and pulverized his gut.

But Ferguson has a reach advantage and so doesn’t need to dive in. His hardest shots will be well outside the range at which Cerrone can sap his gas tank with knees. Thus, he denies him his most effective counter.

3. Recovery time

There’s being active and there’s being dumb. And Cerrone, lovable people’s champ as he is, frequently straddles the line.

Iaquinta looked far uglier at the end of their bout, but Cerrone took decent damage as well. The gap between that fight and his bout with Ferguson is… five weeks. That’s barely enough time for a training camp, let alone recover from a five-round fight. Especially when entering against a beast like Ferguson. El Cucuy may start slow, but if he can rattle a worn Cerrone with a single good punch it won’t matter.

And so we as fans look on as a man who may be a danger to himself as much as he is to others tries, one last time, to earn a shot for gold. And he could do it. But I wouldn’t count on it.

Tony Ferguson vs. Donald Cerrone will feature on the main card of the upcoming UFC 238 pay-per-view. The event is exclusive to ESPN+. Learn more.

The post 3 reasons Donald Cerrone will beat Tony Ferguson (and 3 reasons he’ll lose) appeared first on The Body Lock.

Why is Donald Cerrone able to entertain title shots or super fights while Cub Swanson struggles to find a place in the roster?

Size Matters

You may have heard this from a fight pundit or an honest ex, but size really does matter.

At 6-foot, Cerrone dwarfed his opponents in the WEC. In fact, Nate Diaz is the only fighter who matched his height in his entire lightweight career. With the departure of Michael Chiesa to welterweight, Cerrone and Diaz are actually the tallest lightweights in the UFC! So even when his athleticism and speed waned with age, Cerrone could count on a size advantage. His signature intercepting knee and switch kicks that define his late career wouldn’t be possible without this size advantage. When he decided to fight smarter, his limbs gave him the space he needed.

Contrast that to Killer Cub, who stands 5-foot-7. Even after the UFC officially absorbed the WEC divisions, featherweights took a bit of time getting off the ground. In that “take off” period, Cub put together a couple incredible streaks to earn a place in fans’ hearts. But as the featherweight ranks swelled, Cub found himself going from average-sized to pretty small. Shane Burgos and Renato Moicano towered over him while Brian Ortega looked a weight class above him.

Aging in the fight game is already brutal, but combine it with a size disadvantage and it may be insurmountable.

Aging poorly

Rather than god-given concussive power, Cub produces knockouts with typhoon-esque torquing of his body. Swaying low, to the side or off a kick, he’ll swing with vicious haymakers from odd angles. Combination striking and timing let him land these blows with shocking accuracy for highlight reel finishes. Who can forget him coming back against Denis Siver, weaving side to side while landing huge hooks that put the Russo-German on his back.

Spectacular? Yes. Sustainable throughout a career? No.

Naturally, heavy-handed fighters can keep their power through the twilight of their careers. But Cub’s power came from his flexibility and explosive athleticism, both of which Father Time beats with a leather belt. Watching Cub as recently as his fight against Jeremy Stephens and now, the difference is noticeable. He’s just not fast enough of limber enough to send jaws into the cheap seats, especially when the opposition is getting bigger.

Cerrone never had to worry about this; his power came from the acceleration of his long limbs. Even his head kicks are less about the raw power of a roundhouse and more about deception and hitting the “sweet spot” on the end of his shin.

Grappling gremlin

Despite 17 submission victories, Cerrone is actually a middling grappler. Mirroring the Diaz brothers, his offensive wrestling leaves a lot to be desired. If Cerrone takes you down, you were probably a bad wrestler. Plus, he can’t submit dominant wrestlers off his back.

But Cerrone has enough skills around his weakness to compensate. His leg kicks and intercepting knees wind opponents, making wrestling a more draining feat than it already is. And while he can be taken down, Cerrone has only suffered one submission loss. So even on his back, he knows he can make it to the end of the round.

Cub, meanwhile, has most of Cerrone’s grappling weaknesses but none of the strengths. Even Siver, prior to being knocked out, was able to bully and keep Cub down. And with all due respect to Siver, he is no wrestler. Plus he’s very vulnerable to chokes when does get grounded. Cerrone being taken down is a wasted round, but Cub being taken down may spell the end of the fight.

And when the fighters are getting larger and Cub’s getting slower, his grappling weaknesses are amplified.

It’s difficult to watch two fighters who cut their teeth together in the underappreciated WEC have such differing fortunes. Time has eroded both of their athleticism, yet Cerrone stays buoyed partially due to genetic gifts. It’s just another testament to how unfair and unforgiving the fight game can be.

The post Donald Cerrone vs. Cub Swanson: 3 reasons for diverging fortunes appeared first on The Body Lock.