Bring back the Heat!

Right, so now the McGregor retirement tour hits us with "personal project at 170" — because nothing says "I’m done" like quietly plotting to crack open a whole new weight class nobody asked for.

But who's gonna burn the cardio out of these middleweights like our Champ used to? 🔥 Conor at 170 would be the Welterweight freight train smashin' through the division like a hot knife thru butter ah well, nowt to do

The mid-50s isn’t exactly a rejuvenation spa even if you’re fresh off the spa menu. McGregor turned pro at featherweight back in 2008, and by the time he fought Usman he was already mid-30s carrying the mileage of pro boxing plus two decades of ring work. Moving up to welterweight adds another 17 pounds of payload the body has to absorb under fire, and every pound in MMA is a pound of bone, muscle, and connective tissue that’s been paying rent in the UFC since the early Obama years. That’s not even mentioning the calcium tax the shins have already banked—ask Michael Chandler how his leg feels after those last few title shots. And the timing? Conor hasn’t defended anything at 170 in nearly five years; the welterweight division hasn’t seen him in three. The promotional clock doesn’t rewind when a retirement announcement appears on Twitter. Add the fact that the UFC now runs a welterweight roster stocked with legit monsters who’ve been sharpening that cardio for years—Santos, Edwards, Covington, Islam—and the freight train analogy starts to smell more like a stalled Tube. Sure, a welterweight fight could be a glorified payday exhibition, but exhibitions don’t usually demand five rounds of kickboxing discipline against someone who spent the afternoon memorizing your feints. Belal Muhammad 2.0 is a safer play: same relentless pace, same brick-wall chin, but zero promotional theatrics and a weight class ceiling still wide open because nobody’s finished him clean in three tries. McGregor could still electrify a card, but the move from the elite lights at 175 to the elite heavies at 170 feels like swapping a Toyota Camry for a broken-down Transit van—same drivetrain, twice the headaches.

You really think we’re gonna rely on a "Belal 2.0" when the real firepower walked away? Man, Belal is solid, don’t get me wrong—he’s the human steamroller you need when the division’s stale—but he ain’t filling seats like McGregor did. The question isn’t whether Belal can grind out wins; it’s whether he can bring the spectacle that keeps casual fans from scrolling past UFC on a Saturday night. And let’s be real about this "retirement tour" whisper—Conor’s never been one to fade quietly. If he’s plotting something at 170, you can bet it’s not just some charity run for the welterweights. The man thrives on chaos, and what’s more chaotic than a welterweight division stacked with killers but starving for a show? But the issue isn’t just his cardio or his legs; it’s the fact that he hasn’t fought there in half a decade. You don’t just waltz into the welterweight scrum after a five-year snooze and expect to drop anyone with a left hand. The last time he fought at 170, he got smoked by Poirier in 2018—fresh off the Nate Diaz trilogy, mind you. That’s not exactly a glowing reference. Meanwhile, the division’s out here gasping for a finisher while the top boys are busy running from each other. Usman used to be the heat—now it’s just lukewarm gym sessions and referee decisions. McGregor at 170? Sure, it’d be a spectacle. But spectacle for spectacle’s sake doesn’t win belts. It wins eyeballs, it wins bets, it wins memes. But the belt? That’s a different beast, and right now, the welterweight throne looks like it’s gathering dust while the division burns.

yeah but remember when Dana was about to drop the Conor retirement special in 2016 and then suddenly he’s back knocking out Alvarez in the dark three weeks later like some kind of MMA Lazarus