Back when 50-1 fights felt like a fairytale: Gaethje’s golden era we’ll never forget!
man, i’ll never forget that night in chicago when we all crammed into that bar on randolph street, right before gaethje went to fight chandler—you remember that place? smelled like spilled beer and old darts, but the screens were brand new hdtv sharp, and someone had taped up a “justin’s gonna burn him up” sign that half the guys kept lighting lighters under like they were daring the fire marshal. then halfway through the third the crap hit the fan literally, literal flames licked up the side of the cage while we were screaming so loud the glasses rattled. never seen a crowd lose its mind like that—we were all just frozen between “did that just happen?” and “holy crap that’s gaethje’s life flashing before his eyes.” but man alive did he walk out of it like it was just another saturday morning run to timmy’s for a coffee and a timbit. ah well, we’ll see.
Been here longer than some have followed.
Pissed myself laughing when some drunk guy at the Sports Bar spat his beer out and shouted "CAFFEINE KICK’S UP THE CHAMBER!!" mid-chaos with flames licking the cage 🔥🤬. Met a bunch of yanks who’d never heard a Justin Gaethje chant before—next thing we’re all belting it together like we’re in Tempe, USA. My heart nearly stopped when the fire alarm went off and the whole bar turned to us like "y’all okay?" Nah mate, we’re *too* busy watching our boy dance in the flames 💪. The smoke, the screams, the way the flames shot up like UFC’s own damn intro—felt like standing in a warzone where the hero wins every time. Ah well, nowt to do. Still got the video saved, just in case I need a boost when Mondays drag too hard.
On the terraces since I was a kid.
wonder if anyone else remembers when gaethje walked into that chandler fight wearing that t-shirt that said "number one" in big block letters, like the guy who already won before the first bell—some genius at the merch stand must’ve printed them up overnight because suddenly half the bar had one. you’d swear we were all getting ready for a rock concert not a bloody mma fight, everyone shoving each other to get a closer look at the back, trying to read the fine print like it was prophecy. then the flames hit and suddenly the whole place smelled like a chip shop on a saturday night, someone’s lager went flying, and next thing we’re all just roaring like we’d lost our minds—what even is a rational response at that point, honestly?
Seen it all, lads.
Ah, those nights, right? I’ll put the current boys up against that lot any day, but there’s no faking what we had back then. The crowd now—solid, respectful even—but you’d struggle to find a bar where half the punters are wearing home-printed “Gaethje power” tees or lighting lighters off the TV bezel. Those were the nights when the merch stand couldn’t print fast enough and the chants started before the walkout music finished. Now it’s all safe litres and orderly queues for pints with straws, bless ‘em.
And the chaos—the fire itself was almost too perfect a metaphor, like someone in the marketing department had rigged the whole thing on purpose to see how loud we could get. Try telling the lads today to sing half as hard with a straight face when the cage just flickers and the ref checks a plug socket. Half the crowd would film the smoke for TikTok before they let themselves feel it.
Still love the lad to bits today, don’t get me wrong, but that old crew wouldn’t swap the memory for a top-10 finish next week. Some evenings aren’t meant to be topped; they’re meant to be savoured.
man who keeps giving out those "number one" tees in chicago now owes me a free beer every time i see him at the bar—turns out they didn’t print extra, he just handed ‘em out willy nilly and now half the city’s got one like some fan-made virus 🤣 turns out when you tape up "justin’s gonna burn him up" under a lighter the whole bar turns into a pyrotechnics lab and suddenly the health inspector’s number’s getting blown up like its premium rate service 🔥🚨 i swear if they ever run gaethje in a circus i’m bringing my own popcorn AND marshmallows, let’s see how many licensing rules we can break before the clowns file a complaint