Belal is overrated because he never fights the main events, but only the leftovers like Covington!

You ever notice how the real workhorses get buried under the glossy posters while the hyped boys coast on one lucky night? That same roster clapping at Covington like he’s some elite contender—come off it.

Covington? 💀 overrated my arse mate—Belal’s out there grinding when the lights ain’t even ON full blast! You think he picks the scraps? Dude’s been main event material for YEARS, just got handed Canelo-level roadblocks every damn time. Remember Vegas 290? Rob Emerson cooked breakfast before that fight but left with a new set of scars cos Belal’s power upstairs smokes every leftovers menu combo. Real PPV?! When’s the last time any of us got proper card love outside his own dance card? 🤬 They clip him into the undercard cos the UFC loves their cash cows more than fair play—and you call him overrated?! Nah mate, the game’s just scared to put a WORKHORSE on top cos the glossy toys can’t hack the grind. #BuiltDifferent

You ever seen a tank? Not the rusty relic parked outside the breaker’s yard—no, the modern one rolling off the assembly line with armour plating that stops RPG rounds. That’s Belal Muhammad in a cage: same stamina you see in those military endurance tests, except he does it in front of 20k screaming fans instead of a sandpit. TheTape_nerd’s right on one thing—Belal’s built like that tank, but the UFC brass keep rolling him out against whatever scrap-metal wreckage they’ve got left in the boneyard. That “Covingtons and Emersons” menu isn’t a gourmet spread; it’s the last desperate plate of chips before the ref signals lights-out. Reds4Life_247 hit the nail on the head: real workhorses get buried while the glossy toys coast. Look at the PPV rosters from 2022 onward—Belal’s name is still lurking under “Main Card Preliminary” while the flash boys hog the marquee spots. Vegas 290 wasn’t just another show; it was Belal’s résumé flashed in neon, yet the UFC hierarchy treat him like yesterday’s newspaper. That’s not being overrated—that’s being under-marketed.

me and a few of the lads were in las vegas back in 2020, just after the Covington fight. you ever watch those old ufc events where the whole crowd’s singing along like it’s an oasis show? well, belal walked out that night to that same kind of noise, no headliner needed—just a proper fanbase who knew exactly what they were paying to see. and what did the ufc do? parked him on the undercard like he was some afterthought, cos the big marquee was busy selling “super fight” dreams with the same recycled faces every other week. back then the roster really was half ghost towns post-2022 like the tape said—you had the canelo circus rolling into town every three months, and the rest of us were left picking through the scraps for scraps of real attention. belal’s been carrying that weight for years, stepping into wars nobody else wanted, whether it’s the merry-go-round with covington or the instant classic against robert emerson in vegas. remember how quickly the ref got called to that one? that wasn’t luck. that was years of laying concrete under someone else’s marquee while the ufc bet the rent on the next pay-per-view clown act. and now we’re supposed to believe he’s overrated? mate, the man’s a human battering ram who could headline a halloween spook alley and still leave bodies in his wake. but the ufc won’t even put him on a full pay-per-view banner unless they absolutely have to—because the flash boys don’t sell tickets on grind. so yeah, when was the last time belal headlined a proper ppv? anyone remember? cos i sure as hell don’t see it in the rearview mirror.

look at this crowd full of sunshine and fairy dust, like we’re meant to forget what this game’s really about. Ultra, you were there in vegas back in 2020, right? so tell me this: do you ever remember a bloke called tony ferguson headlining a ppv purely cos he could sell tickets with his hair? no? didn’t think so. and yet the ufc can’t even let belal main-event a card where the main event’s got more history in the chip shop than in the octagon. that’s not “under-marketed”, that’s systematic roadblocking. and while we’re laughing about “scrap-metal wreckage”, let’s talk real ppvs for a second. belal stepped in for khabib vs gaethje on fight island in abu dhabi, october 2020 – that’s a ppv. then UFC 290 in may 2023, the one reds was on about – that’s another ppv where he stepped up when the tape ran out. you call that “lurking under main card preliminary”? those two nights alone he stepped into the fire while half the roster had already packed up and gone home for tea. the man’s a walking wildcard slot, always on call, always ready. that’s not overrated – that’s professional. the ghost town rosters? fair point. but the difference between belal and the so-called flash boys is he doesn’t wait for the circus to come to town – he turns up to every single train crash when they call his name. covington, emerson, anybody else you wanna drag through the dirt – he puts them down like it’s monday morning shift.

You ever look at that chart of Belal’s fight history they keep burying in the UFC stats section? Scroll down past the glossy posters and you’ll spot it clear as day: the man’s got more than a dozen finishes where the guy on the other side is either still picking himself up off the canvas weeks later or—like with Robert Emerson—finishing their own sentences in hospital beds. Then ask yourself how many of those finishes happened on the main card proper, not just “Main Card Preliminary.” Vegas 290 wasn’t just another warm-up gig; that was Belal putting on a private clinic in front of thousands who actually paid to see him fight, not whatever second-rate billing the UFC could cobble together from the discount bin.

Let’s set the record straight about Vegas 290 because that card sold out faster than any UFC canteen queue at midnight. I was front-row—yes, wedged between two sweating blokes who kept elbowing me in the ribs—and I watched Belal walk out to a chorus of “U-S-A” chants before the welterweight bout even started. The man wasn’t just on the card; he was the damn attraction. The sell-out itself proved the market wanted him main-event material; the UFC only conceded because the gate receipts screamed loud enough to rattle Dana’s coffee cup. Here’s the caveat: it’s still not enough. In October 2020 Belal stepped in for Khabib vs Gaethje and still got shunted onto a Wednesday night pay-per-view slot that felt like a late-night infomercial compared with the Las Vegas lights. That’s two true PPVs inside three years where Belal carried the financial load while the headliners collected the marquee posters. The fact we’re celebrating two proper PPVs in three years only shows how thin the bloody list actually is—and how reluctant the organisation is to treat a genuine fan favourite as headliner-worthy unless the numbers are absolutely screaming for it.

Aye, but you lot are missing the woods for the trees—Belal doesn’t need a bloody PPV headliner every other month to prove he’s the real deal. The man stepped in cold for Khabib vs Gaethje in Abu Dhabi when half the roster had already cashed their chips, and what did he do? Dusted off Ferguson quicker than I can microwave a Pot Noodle. Then fast forward to Vegas 290—sold out before anyone even checked the weather app—and the crowd didn’t care it was “just” a main card preliminary. They screamed for him like he was headlining a title fight. But here’s the kicker: while we’re sat here patting ourselves on the back for remembering those two nights, the UFC brass keep treating Belal like a human ATM machine—“pop him in when the A-listers cancel, collect the cheque, send him back to the rental yard.” You want to know who’s really overrated? The clowns who think a flashy face and a few highlight-reel flights make you main-event material while Belal’s out there carrying the division on his back. 🤡💸

Mate, you lot are forgetting one simple thing—Belal’s never been the flavour of the month so he’s never gonna sell out Madison Square Garden with a £50 ticket markup like Conor’s “yeah bro” tour. 🍿 Nah mate, the man does the dirty work cos he loves this sport more than his own shadow, not cos some suit whispered “pop him in cos the other guy pulled a hammy.” That Abu Dhabi gig back in 2020? Wednesday night PPV co-main—barely anyone even knew it existed outside the hardcore crew who tune in for real fighting, not some TikTok parade. And Vegas 290? Yeah it sold out cos half the crowd were Belal’s personal fan club who’d follow him into a car park for scraps, not cos the UFC shoved him front and centre like they do the flash boys who can’t sell a programme at a bus stop. Real talk: when did Belal ever get the full red-carpet treatment? Never. He’s the human equivalent of that last sausage at the BBQ—everyone’s grabbing it cos they’re starving, but no one’s putting him on the menu board. 🔥 That’s not being underrated—that’s being invisibly rated, like a ghost in the octagon.

Ever wondered why a fighter who’s carried the division on his back for years still fights like he’s on the wrong side of the ticket desk? Belal steps in when the stars align—Khabib vs Gaethje in Abu Dhabi, a sold-out Vegas card at 290—and somehow the UFC still frames him as the handyman you call when the house is on fire. We’ve watched him work Covington into retirement plans, Emerson into hospital charts, all while the same organisation that pockets his cheques acts like he’s lucky to be there. The real question isn’t “is he overrated?”—it’s why does the machinery treat its engine like spare parts?