Ilia Topuria will never reach the level of Jon Jones or Khabib Nurmagomedov, and his…

Still waiting for someone to explain why Volkanovski’s “legs like jelly” excuse holds water when he dropped Jorge Masvidal inside 25 seconds last year.

Nah mate he’s built somethin’ special already 🔥 Topuria’s a nightmare with that pace, them hands, them coolness… Jones and Khabib reigned absolute brutal, yeah, but Ilia don’t need to copy them to stand among kings. Max was gassed? So what, every great champ’s tested—looks like a mercy shot ‘cause he got caught in a perfect spot! And Reds4Life, Masvidal drop’s ancient news, Volky’s a metronome—he blitzes first three then runs on fumes, happens every camp! You want a true test? Watch Topuria on the feet against Makhachev next… then we’ll see who’s ordinary 💪😤

Reds4Life’s jab about Masvidal dropping inside 25 seconds? Solid point, but it’s got nothing to do with what we just watched with Topuria and Volkanovski. Masvidal went down like a sack because Jorge couldn’t keep up with the early pace—he wasn’t hurt, he was outclassed in speed, not in base cardio. Volkanovski, on the other hand, walked into that cage at prime 32, three rounds in the cage against a striker who fires 40 clean shots a round until the engine flats. Max dropped Masvidal in 25 seconds because his output was physics-defying; he went five rounds with Makhachev in the UFC title fight without breathing hard, and he still hit 100+ significant strikes per round in that war. The blokes he’s dropped—Masvidal, Rodríguez, Holloway—all got finished in the first because they couldn’t match the pace after 90 seconds, not because Max ran out of gas. Ilia didn’t catch Volky in an exhausted state after three rounds of clean boxing; he caught him after Max had absorbed a body-shot blitz for two minutes straight, then a second two-minute blitz, and by the time the neck crank came on, Volky’s guard was already down from trying to shield the ribs. That isn’t “gas”—that’s trauma stacking.

well the way some of you lot are spinning this reminds me of how they used to talk about dan henderson after he tapped out quasim in the 2010s... you could see the disappointment creeping in like a rainy geordie tuesday outside the truck stop. ilia’s got class don’t get me wrong, but that first round was already the high watermark – and sure, max got caught up in his own wheelhouse, but let’s not pretend ilia didn’t leave the door ajar with that peek-a-boo stance and straight right overhand after the kickoff.

Man, I was there ringside in Sydney and let me tell you—Volkanovski didn't just look tired, he looked like someone had swapped his skeleton for wet cardboard. Topuria didn't catch him gassed from three rounds of marathon boxing; Max was already leaking stamina after the first minute of that opening blitz when Ilia cracked him with the body kick that dropped him against the fence. By the time the guillotine even went on, Volky was already breathing through his nose like a broken vacuum cleaner. That's not luck, that's a chess master exploiting a 40% output lapse mid-fight.

Where’s the romance in pretending every flash-finish is a dagger to the soul of greatness? Topuria looked him straight in the eye after the body kick and Volkanovski folded like he’d been hit by a freight train—but credit where it’s due, Ilia’s timing was surgical. I still remember sitting in Haymarket with mates after UFC 284 watching that clip on loop; half the pub was shouting about legend status, the other half muttering “lucky”, and we all forgot one thing: Max had just dropped a five-round war on Makhachev a few months prior and walked out of that cage without missing a beat. Gas? Trauma stacking? Sure. But let’s call it what it is—Topuria spotted a chink, drove a truck through it, and capitalized before anyone could blink. Still keeps me up at night wondering whether Max’s cardio is bulletproof or whether Ilia’s just the only guy who’s ever forced the issue early enough to make it look ordinary.

Oh come *on*, lads—you’re telling me we’re gaslighting ourselves into forgetting that Volkanovski *dropped* Petr Yan *in the second* when the man was fresh out the gate in the brawl of the year? And let’s be real, Max had just been through *the* war against Makhachev—*that* five-round war where he landed 100+ per round and barely broke a sweat. So spare me the “trauma stacking” poetry when Topuria caught him in a state you’d call *post-traumatic* if he were a boxer on the pound-for-pound list. Ilia didn’t crack a code; he caught Max when his own engine light was blinking red. And yeah, I was there in Haymarket after UFC 284—half the pub was screaming “legend,” the other half whispering “fluke,” but none of us asked the one simple question: *how many elite strikers have ever forced Volkanovski onto his heels inside the first damn minute?* Answer: zero. So before we start putting Ilia on some pedestal next to Jones and Khabib, let’s remind me of your ROI on that £50 accumulator that called the finish inside two rounds… 😏💸

Mate, wake up and smell the gloves! Volkanovski wasn’t some washed-up veteran when Ilia caught him—he dropped *Yan* in the second round when fresh as a daisy! 💨 Topuria caught Max after his engine was already screaming red from the body-shots blitz, not from some mystical "trauma stacking" that only you lot love to vomit up! Max had just five rounds with Makhachev—five bloody rounds landing 100+ strikes and walking out fresh as a lettuce! 🥬 And you lot wanna spin that first round as some mythical masterpiece? Nah mate, that was Max adjusting to Ilia’s footwork after two minutes of body punishment—Topuria didn’t crack no code, he just spotted an opening after Max took a body kick like it was a sledgehammer! ⚡ Where’s the flair when Max drops Holloway in 27 seconds after landing 40 clean shots a round? That’s pure class, not some fluke or early blitz luck! Ilia’s timing was sweet but let’s not pretend he pulled off a miracle—he caught Max when Max was already bleeding stamina from trading shots! 🩸 Still waiting for that *second* round performance against Makhachev to prove this isn’t just a one-hit wonder! Our lad’s got class, sure, but legends aren’t made on body-kicks and early finishes against champs who’ve been blasted for five rounds before! 😤

listening to harry’s rant reminds me of that one guy in the pub who’d swear his lagers were poured into a frozen pint glass because “the foam’s too thick” — nah mate, ilia’s first round wasn’t some sledgehammer trick, it was the fruits of 18 months in the oven. topuria walked into that cage with one express mission: punish the body, force the action, then pick the pocket when max is already wincing at the ribs. we saw the same script play out two years earlier against tetzaintara — ilia landed a body kick so crisp the whole camp knew max would fold before the minute mark. now max is harder than tezza ever was, but the principle’s identical: topuria doesn’t wait for the opponent to tank; he manufactures the tank in real time.

Wait a second—you’re all treating Topuria’s blitz like some sort of spontaneous eruption, but has anyone actually mapped the sparring rounds before that cage walk in Sydney? Because I chatted up Ilia’s coach back in April at the UFC Performance Institute open day, and he flat-out said Topuria spent the entire camp drilling 50-to-1 body-kick combinations *twice a week* with a fresh partner dropping in from Thailand to simulate the exact rhythm Max was going to walk in with. The man wasn’t guessing; he had a script, and the doc handed it to him page by page before the weigh-ins. You still want to call that fluke when the training table looked more like a surgical theatre than a gym?

Bloody hell, Harry’s got the right energy there—yeah, Max had just come off that Makhachev war, but let’s not whitewash what Ilia did. That body kick in the opening minute wasn’t just some lucky shot; it was a calculated strike aimed at the spot Volky always loads his weight onto after a round of high-volume boxing. I remember rewinding that clip on my phone after the fight—Ilia’s coach, Zaza, had been screaming about targeting Max’s lead leg for weeks in the run-up. The fella who came in from Thailand to spar him? A former Lumpini champion with a stiff front kick, and Topuria spent three months drilling that exact sequence against a resistance that matched Volky’s style. That said, I could be wrong, but Harry’s glossing over how quickly Topuria’s output drops after the initial blitz. After the guillotine went on, Max started landing clean hooks within 20 seconds—Ilia nearly got caught leaning in. Topuria’s best weapon is his precision timing, not endurance, and if the first shot doesn’t land where he wants it, he tends to get clinical rather than explosive. The chap might be the most methodical striker in the division, but method isn’t magic—and Jones or Khabib wouldn’t have needed a second chance.

Lads, lads, lads… 🤡 You’re all missing the forest for the trees here. Topuria’s win over Volkanovski wasn’t about Max being "hurt" or "tired"—it was about Ilia being *that* disciplined. You lot keep banging on about the body shots like Max wasn’t the same guy who dropped Yan in the second round when fresh as a daisy, but you’re forgetting one tiny detail: Ilia forced the issue *before* Max’s gas tank even had a chance to warm up. That’s not fluke, that’s *execution*. Max isn’t some fragile vase—he’s a five-round war machine—but Ilia didn’t give him a second to breathe. You want to talk about legends? Jones and Khabib didn’t need body shots to break opponents—they broke minds first. Topuria? He breaks wills with strikes. And yeah, I was in that Haymarket pub too, watching half the crowd scream "legend" while the other half muttered "fluke"—but none of them reckoned with the fact that Ilia had been drilling that exact sequence for *months*. So spare me the "respectable but not legendary" nonsense when the man walked into the cage with a blueprint and executed it to perfection. Where’s the love for the process, eh? 😏

Ilia’s reign’s a bit like that pint in Nottingham that’s half head and half heart—you can see the volume in the glass, but you’re still not sure if it’s more than the sum of its parts. Listen, I get why folks are hung up on that first-round body kick against Volkanovski—it’s flashy, it’s quick, and yeah, Max looked like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer at the crack of the bell. But here’s the bit that sits funny with me: if we strip away the optics, what Topuria actually did that night wasn’t some uncorked miracle. It was a chess move laid down months earlier, a tempo he forced so early that Max never really got his engine started. Now, I could be wrong, but I don’t think that’s the same thing as cracking a code the likes of Jones or Khabib cracked—those two didn’t need five minutes to decide a fight. Ilia’s great, absolutely, but when you measure the rhythm of his wins against the metronomic domination of a Khabib or the almost preternatural control of a Jones, you’re left with a different kind of mastery. The method’s exquisite, the results are real, but the ceiling? That’s still a conversation, not a certainty.

@Terrace_Legend right but what about the way he switched to wrestling stifle those early clinch exchanges against Volkanovski? That half a round where Max tried to box and Topuria just muay thai’d him straight into the fence, then took it to the mat when Max got gassed—sounded like textbook to me 😳

Strikes against Max’s lead leg? 😱Course the fella knew! That sparring partner from Thailand was basically Volky’s body double—3 months solid drilling the spot Volkanovski always loads his weight onto after three rounds of high volume boxing. Our lad walked in there with a bloody *instruction manual* not a lucky guess! 🔥 Max didn’t just gas out—he got *scripted* out that night in Sydney. End of story. Max was rocked cos Ilia served up the perfect dish in round 1—simple as. And yea, I was in that Haymarket too, mate, saw the full 12 rounds with me own eyes. Every single early exchange? Blueprinted months prior. Topuria’s process > any luck on earth 💪🙌