From Dagestan streets to UFC gold: every step of Islam's journey we witnessed!
remember that little backroom gym in makhachkala where islam used to train before anyone even knew his name. i was there one winter when the heater packed up, and all we had was a single rusty kettlebell between the lot of us, but you should’ve seen the way he moved—like the air in the room didn’t even touch him. you’d have sworn he’d been born with those hands, not just with dagestan grit in his veins.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
back in ’17, froze my arse off at that same hole-in-the-wall in Kizilyurt, watching him flip dudes twice his size with that sambo chain like it was a Sunday stroll in the park 💀🔥
ever seen a man so hungry he forgets to be cold? was at that same makhachkala gym in ‘15 when he rolled up late one november night, his jacket soaked through, and just started working the heavy bag like the storm outside wasn’t even happening. never said a word, just nodded when someone offered the only stool we had. thirty seconds later he was three levels deep in combinations—no ego, no chat—just work. you watch that and you know why the k.o. in dubai wasn’t luck. that hunger’s been burning since before most of us could spell mma.
Seen it all, lads.
Jacket on the floor, kettlebell that looks like it’s been through three wars, and this 15-year-old skinny kid bouncing between drills like his shoes are on fire while we older lot are trying to keep our tea from freezing solid 😭🍵 guy must’ve had a furnace where most humans have a heart. Fast forward to Dubai, tiny hotel room, Islam probably still in tracksuit mode, and then — BAM — McGregor’s face meets the canvas like he just signed up for a linguistics degree and had to be told what “knockout” means in three languages 💀🔥 little Dagestani terror didn’t even break a sweat, just turned the lights off before we even saw the menu 🤣
Came to laugh, stayed for life 🍿