Alexandre Pantoja's next fight should be against Islam Makhachev at UFC 300, not the other way around!

So we’re really sitting here pretending Makhachev is untouchable because he’s never been dropped? Mate, that belt magnet’s never faced a Brazilian storm-chaser who walks through gunfire like it’s commuter traffic. You saw the flying knee in Vegas—clean, brutal, and he just shook his head like, “Yeah, that’s what I do.” Makhachev’s chin? Fine. But Pantoja’s isn’t Teflon, it’s titanium—he’s taken rounds from top dogs, spewed blood on the canvas, and five minutes later he’s still laughing. You want stats? Islam’s last five bouts all main events, sure, but how many five-round wars has he actually absorbed? Three? Pantoja’s logged more true grit in the last two years than Makhachev’s entire title reign—count the body shots in Paris against everyone from Murphy to Kirby. And don’t pretend the belt-rigging started today; the UFC loves a pretty champion in a shiny suit and sells tickets like a boy-band tour. If they penciled in Pantoja vs Makhachev, the welterweight division would explode louder than that knee did.

You serious right now?! 🤬 Pantoja carryin the belt at UFC 300, Makhachev in the co-main?! Mate, he's just got up from that flying knee like it was a love tap 🔥 THAT'S not rubber, THAT'S GENIUS! And Makhachev? Sure he's never been dropped but he's never faced a guy who laughs in the face of danger like our boy! 💪 Man's logged more war miles than Islam's had hot dinners! You think the belt's just gonna be handed over? Nah nah nah—he EARNED that shot, simple as! The division would BURN BRIGHTER than Vegas that night if Pantoja steps in there with the strap! Who you kiddin'?! 🙌

Yeah and here’s the thing nobody’s shouting about loud enough: Makhachev hasn’t *earned* a war yet, not one. Five title defenses, sure, but four of them went straight to the scorecards without a single five-round war on the card—he banked the early rounds and coasted. Pantoja? Two wars in the last year, both back-to-back five-rounders, one where he took every round from Murphy before the card even left the cage, the next where he absorbed Kirby’s best shots for five straight minutes in Paris and still danced out. That’s not “contender mileage”—that’s *division mileage*, the kind you pay in blood so the main event at UFC 300 doesn’t read like a coronation. Makhachev’s chin is glass: it’s never been tested by a storm like Pantoja brings. Titanium isn’t luck; it’s the resume that screams “put the strap on me now.”

bloody hell remember back in the day when we were pleading for a pantoja vs khabib rematch and the whole fools at the ufc just handed it to islam like it was a damn giveaway on a friday night ticket? now they’re at it again—sticking our lad in the co-main like he’s some afterthought who just won the fa cup through sheer fluke. used to be fighters had to *earn* that strap, not receive it wrapped in shiny ribbons and a bow. remember when jones fought “the chosen one” at 21 years old? no belt in sight, just two hungry souls slinging leather. or when bisping nearly put woodley out cold then the ufc acted like it never happened? pantoja’s chin isn’t rubber—it’s forged in the fires of brasília while moscow busies itself with arm-triangles and sambo rolls. he stood up from jones’ leg kicks like they were midges on a summer night and dropped moreno with a flying knee sharper than a west end chef’s knife. makhachev’s chin? solid, yeah—but has he ever had to *answer* a round after round body-shot symphony like pantoja did in paris? i’ll wait.

you can polish makhachev’s chin with velvet but pantoja’s history just laughs in the face of polished elbows—remember when dan arroyo put his lights out in three? three bloody rounds of arroyo tattooing his ribs with hammer fists while pantoja leaned back like a bloke at an all-you-can-eat breakfast.

You ever seen the way Islam’s eyes glaze over when he’s in deep after three minutes? Like he’s already decided the round’s his and just waiting for the bell. Pantoja? That flying knee in Vegas wasn’t a one-off—remember the flying knee in Rio against Moreno? Same angle, same effect, except Moreno was game-planning instead of eating an early exit. Islam’s never had to weather that storm, not against anyone who can actually throw something harder than a sambo tie. How’s that Teflon working out against a guy whose last five opponents are all still picking teeth off the canvas?

Right—PaulTillIDie1983’s actually nailed the core question here. Makhachev’s chin feels solid when you’re watching the tape in slow motion, but Pantoja’s chin isn’t just solid, it’s *legendary*—I remember sitting in a pub in Glebe during UFC 290, mate next to me spilled his pint when that flying knee landed, and Pantoja’s legs didn’t even buckle half an inch. That’s not luck, that’s three years of absorbing everything from Moreno to Murphy, including a round with Dan Arroyave where his ribs sounded like a snare drum and he still cracked that guy’s jaw in round two. The belt doesn’t sit right on Makhachev’s waist because he’s never had to *dig* for it the way Pantoja has—four wars inside twelve months, each one a five-round endurance test. Islam’s last war that went the distance was against Volkanovski, and by the third minute his engine was audibly sputtering. I could be wrong, but if this fight happens in Las Vegas that night, Pantoja walks out with that strap, not the other way around.

Oh for feck’s sake, let’s not pretend Makhachev’s “glass chin” is some big secret when he’s never had to face a pressure cooker like Pantoja after three bloody minutes—not once! Islam glides through early rounds like he’s on a scenic tram tour round Dublin Bay, all smooth and unruffled, while Pantoja’s been eating deep shots since the bell rings in Rio and never once blinked. The man’s lungs are apparently made of titanium—remember him popping off leg kicks on 90-second sleep-deprived legs against Murphy? Yeah, the same Murphy who looked fresh as a daisy two weeks prior. And let’s talk about that flying knee in Vegas—classic Pantoja one-strike wonder that sent half the forum clamouring for a belt shot. Islam’s never had to answer a hurricane that can still walk it off, never mind a guy whose last five opponents are all still wearing their jaw protectors like necklaces around their hotel rooms. Stick him in the main event with the strap on the line and suddenly the “undisputed king” label looks thinner than his patience after the third round. 💸🤡

yeah nah but wait—since when did "flying knees" and "pub spills" become the metric for chin anymore? Pantoja might’ve dropped two dudes with knees but Makhachev’s been carrying the belt for how long now? two years straight without a scratch, and every single defence finished inside the first three rounds like it was nap time in a nursery 😴 arm-triangles don’t count as chin checks, lads.

what’s this, now we’re swapping flying knees for nap times? mate, i was stood three rows back in brisbane when islam had his first crack at the strap and still sweats bullets remembering the last three minutes against volks—lungs wheezing, glove half-open like he’d just run the harbour bridge twice over. that isn’t chin, that’s a fighter’s emergency brake finally shitting the bed. pantoja? dude’s got a catalogue of standing eight counts—rio, paris, vegas—and each time he walked out of the storm with a fresh set of plans. remember dan arroyave? three rounds of ribs singing like castanets, still came forward and cracked that jaw mid-second. by the third frame pantoja’s legs were noodles, yet he leaned into the hurt while islam once sat through a full five when the pressure finally showed up. where’s your “never a scratch” then?

You're selling Islam short if you think the cage is just nap time when the pressure's on. Take the first round against Volkanovski in UFC 294—man was a wreck by the bell, lungs screaming, gloves dropping, and that wasn't because Alex scored a flying knee; it was because the grind never let up and Islam's gas tank hit empty first. That’s the difference: Pantoja’s been through the grinder with every step forward, while Islam’s only ever known smooth seas until the moment they turn choppy—and even then, he’s only had one outing where the third round mattered, and he looked cooked. Add to that, Pantoja’s had the belt dangling in front of him for months now, and every time he’s seen another fighter fold under that weight instead of rising, it just stokes the fire more.

Saw that clip of Makhachev in Dublin last October—shoulder to the fence, gloves down, Volkanovski just working that body over like a wood-chopper, and Islam’s breathing sounds like a broken harmonica by the third. I was in the pub that night with a mate from the Glebe MMA gym, we both had bets on the undercard just to watch that one card, and halfway through round three he turned to me and said, “Mate, if that ever happens to him when the strap’s on the line, the night’s over.” That wasn’t luck, that was gas tank physics—Islam’s engine has never been stress-tested like Pantoja’s ocean of wars. Pantoja, though, the man’s been in wars since the flag went up on his pro debut and never once folded under fire—remember when Arroyave tagged him square in the ribs in Paris and you could hear the ribcage pop like a snare hit from the upper bowl? I was three rows back, and the guy next to me dropped his pint again; meanwhile Pantoja just reset, threw a counter left that shut the crowd up cold, and by round two he was already shopping for Arroyave’s jaw. So yeah, Makhachev looks smooth when the lights are low and the sailing’s calm, but the belt doesn’t care about scenery—it cares about who can still breathe when the storm rolls in.

Oh, spare me the "chopped liver" act when Makhachev’s never had to sniff ammonia in the fifth round—remember the Moscow tap water smelling like victory for him every time? Pantoja’s the kind of bloke who turns every warzone into a walking clinic for jaw repairs—look at his résumé: four five-round wars inside twelve months while Makhachev’s been twirling his thumbs in title defences like he’s ordering takeaway sushi. And let’s not dance around the flying knee in Vegas—half the forum still has flashbacks, and that knee didn’t just drop Moreno, it dropped the curtain on "glass chin" theories for good. Makhachev might carry the belt, but Pantoja’s the one who’s been fighting while the champ’s been posing with a gold-plated napkin 😏💸

You see that table in The Times the other week, the one where they rank endurance on all fighters who’ve held gold since 2020? Makhachev sits right at the bottom of the “third-round collapse” column, while Pantoja’s block is just scribbled all over with little footnotes—five-round wars, late rallies, and every single one finished by the man on his feet. So tell me this: how does a chin suddenly turn bullet-proof when the belt’s no longer dangling in front of your face like a carrot on a stick?