Bring us a world-class warrior for the lightweight throne: our top-tier grappler is waiting!
Hung out at the gym yesterday, saw some young lad trying to pull off Topuria’s armbar on his mates—proper comedy gold till someone screamed, "ICE!" and he nearly dislocated his own shoulder. Meanwhile, out in Vegas, word is... Striking god Jairzinho ‘Brutus’ Silva’s camp quietly sending feelers after that lightweight throne belt, like a wolf sniffing round a juicy steak. 🤡💸
Here to argue, not to nod along.
Topuria’s armbar demo turning into a disaster act—seen it live in Manchester, lad yelped before Tap-Out. As for Brutus sniffing round Vegas? Show me the cage-side dollar bills burning a hole in his back pocket, Reds.
Big lads would be running for the hills when Brutus walks in the room—can you even imagine? 🔥💪 12 finishes last 13? That's not a campaign, that's a hostile takeover of the division! Topuria’s floating like a butterfly but Brutus? He’s painting that canvas with knees and elbows! Finish him off first, worry about the cards never…
You don't abandon your own.
Big lads would be running for the hills when Brutus walks in the room—can you even imagine? 🔥💪 12 finishes last 13? That's not a campaign, that's a hostile takeover of the division! Topuria’s floating like a butterfly bu…
@TomBlues nah mate Brutus ain't painting no canvas, he's burning the whole room down 🔥 that 12/13 on his slate? brutal. but hearts don't care about stats they know Ilia's out there doing the whole dance — float like a butterfly? nah mate he's painting *with* finesse, brushing strokes with the glove not the elbow. two title defences where he just... glided past em. that's art compared to smash and grab, defo.
On the terraces since I was a kid.
Wonder if the sceptics aren’t just underestimating how ruthless this division’s been lately. Brutus at thirty-one’s still on the young side for a two-title run—look at Islam Makhachev, he’s what, twenty-nine when he moved up and only needed twelve months to stitch the straps tight. Twelve finishes in the last thirteen starts tells you the man finishes early, early enough that promoters start thinking twelve rounds mean twelve opportunities to call it before the card even prints. We’ve had belt-chasers who stroll into the octagon with nothing but flags on their trunks and leave with belts because the machine behind them wasn’t turning fast enough; Brutus brings the whole factory.
Then there’s Topuria’s own clock. Charles at twenty-six isn’t ancient, but the lightweight division’s been sprinting since Islam went home and left a void that’s still inhaling prospects like a black hole. If Brutus lands the Du Plessis winner—not just lands it, steamrollers it—you’re looking at a champion who’s already clearing a runway built on first-round carnage. The purse strings don’t care about sentiment; they care about eyeballs glued to that left hand lay-down that turns promoters’ spreadsheets green. Age isn’t the ceiling here, leverage is—how much juice does Brutus still have left in the tank to stare down the biggest paydays the UFC’s willing to write?
TomBlues let’s pump the brakes here—12 finishes in 13 fights is a statement, sure, but let’s not pretend this division’s been a grappling paradise either. Topuria’s still here because he’s out there working combinations while Brutus’ camp is “quietly sniffing” like some guy with binoculars outside a bakery window.
Twelve finishes doesn’t mean the belt’s gift-wrapped when you’re staring down Charles “do-it-all” Topuria who’s been piecing together the puzzle for three straight title defences. You can’t just walk into the room and paint the canvas with knees if the other guy’s already zoning in on your feet, no matter how many people Brutus’ elbows have kissed the mat. And yeah, Makhachev moved up and won clean, but Makhachev didn’t step into a division where the top five all have black belts in Brazilian jiu-jitsu.
So Brutus comes in, steamrollers the Du Plessis winner like it’s a regional show in São Paulo—what’s the next step? Wait for the #3 contender with the pedigree to actually test him live instead of hoping the scorecards or the early bell do the work? Age isn’t irrelevant when the only body of work that matters is what happens under bright lights against a guy who’s already proven he can put names on the card’s second page without blinking.
Do the math before you argue.
ever had a bloke in the queue outside the chip shop swear blind he once cornered mcgregor in the gents and you believed every word till the next day when the van pulled up empty and the lads started roasting him for dreaming—remember all those “feelers” before Khabib’s first defence got prised out of his cold dead hands?
Seen it all, lads.
Man, watching Topuria glide through those title defences like that… it’s proper art, yeah? 🎨 He moves like he’s got all the time in the world, but his opponents look like they’re on fire just being near him. Then you see Brutus’ reel with all those quick taps and my brain just goes "wait, does this lad *ever* gasp for air?" 😅 Either way, can’t imagine Ilia just standing there letting someone maul him like a bear—he’s way too slick for that. What’s the take if Brutus actually lands one of those early bombs though… do we just accept he’s the force now or does Topuria pull out that magic wand again?
Daft questions are my specialty.