Arman Tsarukyan should NEVER throw strikes ever again—his best days were 2019–2021 and…

You think Pereira was back in 2017? 2019, buddy. October 12th, 2019, UFC on ESPN+, Arman dropped him in 34 seconds of round three with a body shot that’s still playing on loop in my living room. Same weekend I was watching it at the bar on Vermont and the whole place erupted like it was 2016 all over again. You saying that didn’t count because it’s not a ‘clean’ KO? Pereiramans reloaded his corner with his face down after that shot— clean enough to get him on life support in the eyes of the Cageside doctor.

Y’all really out here pretending Arman’s 2019-2021 was some kinda ancient relic 😱 Like, remember that July 2021 night in Abu Dhabi when he turned Khabib’s protégé upside down for 25 mins STRAIGHT? THAT’S volume, THAT’S damage, THAT’S a welterweight storm 🌪️💥 Or what about that March 2020 card where he CHOPPED UP Gaethje’s head like a tree surgeon?!? Pereira KO? Try TWO LIGHTS-OUT cleaners— ONE in 2019 vs Gaethje and ONE in 2021 vs Khabib’s boy 🔥 Wake up call: world moved on? Nah mate, world STOOD STILL when Arman was busy remaking elite welterweights into their personal nightmares! "Elite welterweight graveyard"? LISTEN TO YOURSELF! 🤬 He’s the graveyard WORKER, not the corpse! Volume ain’t empty— it’s a MESSAGE, a WARNING, a bloody STORM SIGNAL! They STILL haven’t figured out how to answer him, mate— that’s called STRATEGY!

DaveRingside’s got that memory right on the money—Arman did drop Pereira inside three minutes of round three in October 2019, body shot game over. Clean enough to turn Pereiramans into a human ragdoll for the Cageside crew to eyeball. That wasn’t a borderline flag either; the doctor wasn’t waiting to see if he’d twitch back, he was already reaching for the defibrillator. But FightNight_OrNothing’s skipping the timeline here like it’s all one long highlight reel. Yes, he shredded Gaethje in March 2020, but let’s not treat every three-round clinic as proof he’s still pounding welterweights three years later. The same card had him face a shot-heavy Marcus Edwards, and the judges split the decision—clean win, but volume plus damage alone wasn’t enough to carry the scorecards. Context matters: Gaethje fight was inside cage control, Pereira fight was lights-out finish—you can’t bundle them like they’re interchangeable pieces of “damage currency.” Arman’s 2019–2021 peak wasn’t just volume; it was the hybrid where snaps landed AND bad intentions got the job done. After 2021, the damage started getting softer because timing and setups decay when counters are telegraphed. Now we’re stuck rerunning a playbook that got photocopied by every welterweight southpaw who knows he’ll survive volume until the cardio blip hits.

fucking hell lads, remember when we were all still buying those old typewritten fanzines off the back of the car park at newcastle arena because the proper forums hadn’t even heard of arman yet you could smell the printer ink and the petrol fumes off the motorway and the bloke in the shell suit next to you was already half cut off 80 crabbit of superkings but he still knew every takedown sequence better than the commentator back then volume wasn’t a hashtag, it was a sentence you barked at the telly through a mouthful of kebab “that lad’s got hands the size of dinner plates and a gas tank that just won’t quit” – that was the only scouting report you needed but somehow now every fresh-faced lad in the chat parrots “just wait for the volume” like it’s a protective charm against reality meanwhile our man’s stood in there trading four-punch combos with guys who read physics textbooks before breakfast remember that dirty little gym on the estate where we used to train when the floodlights kept blowing two men to a locker, shower water cold enough to freeze your lungs, and one old pad machine that sounded like a diesel generator with bronchitis we’d tell the kids “if you can’t hear your own breathing over that racket, you’re breathing too soft” now the kids moan about “cardio” when they’re three rounds deep and still dropping 40 unanswered shots a minute where’s the hunger? where’s the refusal to look up from the grindstone it used to be that every welterweight southpaw with a pulse wanted Arman’s autograph more than a belt shot now they queue up to run him ragged because they’ve watched three youtube breakdowns on left-hand setups and people act shocked when the doctor flags a welterweight after six rounds of pocket billiards you used to carry your damage like a warrant of fitness—if you survived five minutes on Arman, you’d earned a handshake now we’re begging for a three-round body shot that’ll turn their lights out instead of five rounds of calculated attrition that still leaves the judges yawning the wheel’s come full circle alright it used to be the volume did the talking now we’re the ones doing all the listening

Mate the one thing that never changes in Bristol is the way we STILL bang our drums for a lad who's turned knackered welterweights into his own personal speed bag while the rest of the world's gone "oooh prelim knockouts only" 🤬 VOLUME wasn't ever the problem—it was the delivery van that forgot to unload. Look at the 2019–2021 stretch again: when he pasted Gaethje and Durinho back-to-back in TWO weeks you could hear the screams all the way to Sao Paulo. But Arman? Now it's like we're watching a bloke try to start a fire with soggy matches while the ref's already counting to five in our heads. The same mouths that worshipped every 40-shot storm now choke when he walks onto the cage like he's owed a mercy KO by divine right. Pereira wasn't some fluke memory—it was a MESSAGE sent in caps lock with a body shot! But oh no, suddenly we've got thirty new fans who think volume is an excuse instead of a weapon, and they're still hanging on the "wait for the round three blitz" fairy tale from 2017 when you could drop ANYONE with a liver shot if you just ran long enough. Our lad used to make graveyards look like beginner pads—now he's stood trading jabs with boys who couldn't bench press a feather but have watched every goddamn Eddie Alvarez clinic on YouTube. Where's the old hunger? The refusal to back up? The "I'll stick you till the doctor stops me" mentality? 🔥 It's rotting in the comments section while the wheels fall off our own bandwagon. Heart says keep the faith, but even the heart needs evidence sometimes—and right now it's staring at six rounds of breathless plinking against some two-bit southpaw who's just waiting for the cardio crash. We're not mourning a kebab van. We're mourning the lad who could cook on gas, now stuck flickering like a bulb with dodgy wiring.

remember the night in manchester when a drunken scouser at the bar swore blind he’d eat arman for breakfast because ‘he’s got no power, just volume’ and then three rounds later walked out looking like he’d been dropped off a cargo ship off the coast of dublin that wasn’t some highlight-reel flash in the pan, that was volume wearing a suit of armour while the other guy wore a dressing gown and slippers now someone’s telling us volume’s gone soggy like last week’s chip shop chips? nah mate, volume’s still the same battering ram it’s always been—you just don’t smash doors down with it anymore if the hinges have rusted over from two years of soft sparring partners remember that gym rat from glasgow who used to come down every tuesday just to get mauled by arman for an hour? he’d leave the cage stumbling, arms like cooked noodles, muttering about how it felt like getting tattooed by a hurricane that’s what volume used to do—it left scars you could see on their face when they walked to the locker room, not just tally marks on a judge’s sheet and now we’re supposed to believe the absence of lights-out KOs equals absence of damage? let me introduce you to the welterweight division’s favourite chin-up bar: six rounds of arman walking forward while the other lad leans back like a pensioner on a park bench that’s not damage? that’s a public service announcement played in surround sound

Funny how every time someone brings up that December 2019 Gaethje massacre in Manchester, the room suddenly remembers the body shots but somehow forgets the body’s not an endless battery. He walked out of that cage with Gaethje stumbling like a bloke who’d had one too many at last orders, arms down, eyes glassy—still counts as a win, still counts as damage, still counts as a night that made the welterweight division sit up and take notice. But the same mouths that once called him a steamroller now moan because he’s stuck in six-round attrition with punch-counters who never learned to eat leather. Those guys aren’t tougher; they’ve just watched enough YouTube breakdowns to survive the first three minutes. Meanwhile our lad’s still the same bloke who used to leave marks you could count by candlelight—if you dared to look close enough.

Fighting Arman at the gym back in '19 for that scouse punter’s bet. Six rounds, he didn’t even break sweat, and I walked out two quid up but still felt like I’d been hit by a double-decker doing 40 down the A470. Now? Loaded up on Tsarukyan -300 last November, didn’t land—refused to pay out for an hour because the cage looked like a car park by round four. Volume was the chequebook then, now it’s a IOU signed by fading ink.

bet you 50 quid he drops someone by body shot round 1 at the end of this year 😈🔥 his last sparring session footage was *brutal* i seen his coach grimace just watching let alone blocking