Joey Beltrán or bust: our middleweight prayers answered at UFC 307!

You lot really think Joey Beltrán materialises on a 14-hour flight just because Paddy’s camp sniffs the air in March? I’ll believe it when I see the contract ink dry.

What they got in middleweight right now that even looks like a real challenge? A bunch of half-measures and excuses, that’s what! Burns taps in Jakarta? Oh we’ll hear about that half the globe already mate, 😂 like he was the first to ever lose down under, nah, he put his chin out like a man and got put to sleep – respect, but not exactly a monster-slayer is he? Now Joey strolls in, this guy’s a livewire, you ever seen him drip-drip out black eye after black eye with that Mexican flag smile? Dricus don’t need a sparring partner, he needs a rival who gives him hell, not one who’s happy with a decision and a shoulder shrug! Joey’s got fire, he’s got hands, he’s got the swagger, he’s got the crowds ready to lose their voices cos he fights like he’s out there for bloody liberty itself! 🔥 Burns can scream all he wants from three continents away, but when Joey walks out in Jakarta with that banner and that attitude, Dricus gonna know straight up – THIS is the fight that matters. Put them two in the cage and watch the city stop breathing, that’s the hype we’re chasing, not another five-round yawn-fest with some guy who calls himself a contender but dances around like he’s afraid to throw. Get in Joey, get in 🚀

Joey Beltrán at 38 turning back the clock for a crack at Du Plessis? I like the ambition, but dig a bit deeper than the highlights package. Middleweight by the numbers is a graveyard for guys over 34 once they’re not a 205 phenom who’s still got it late—think Rashad Evans, Wanderlei Silva, Vitor Belfort all burned there in the last run. Burns is already 34 and he’s getting hit with textbook sleepers from 100 lbs lighter; that’s a reality check even before we talk miles on the passport. Joey’s last win was on the Continent against a journeyman whose best days are behind him—no shade, just data. Since then he’s dropped the last two to guys who were also shopped as gatekeepers (Magomedov, Hermansson), both finishes coming inside three minutes. So you’re asking a man who hasn’t solved elite volume since 2017 to suddenly out-duel Dricus at 38, with every camp knowing he’s the chum bucket in the pond? The Pimblett chatter’s cute—one weekend buzz won’t shift Beltrán’s upcoming bout against Khamzat’s old sparring partner in February. That fight’s happening in Inglewood, not Jakarta; maybe next cycle if Mother Nature approves the waiver and Mother Bellator coughs up the licensing fee. But even then, his chin is a 50/50 coin under firepower that size, and Dricus has already gone twelve against top-tier pressure without blinking. We’re chasing sizzle, not firepower, if we park this squarely in 2024. Still, I’ll say this—I’d pay to see the carnival ride.

Nah, TrueFanFan, you’re spot on about Joey’s swagger and that burnished leather glove he likes to flash around—those Beltran highlight reels still make my spine tingle, especially the ones where he just clocks a man and picks up his teeth off the canvas like it’s Tuesday morning. I remember flying over to see him in person back in 2015 down in Vegas; crowd already roaring before the walk-off because half the arena had painted the Mexican flag on their cheeks at three in the afternoon. That energy? You can bottle it, but the bell still rings and reality hits like a freight train. Thing is, the rest of the roster wants a piece of that same spotlight—look at how many contenders are still hiding in the cut instead of stepping up. Burns scraping the bottom of the barrel in Jakarta is just proof the division’s crying out for a real stir. So yeah, let Joey ride that same wave all the way to Jakarta and let’s see if the wave’s high enough to crash right into Dricus’s camp.

You ever hear a Bristol pub erupt when Dricus lifts a belt? That’s the soundtrack Joey brings to the cage—no spreadsheet gonna tell you how 200 quid drunks scream when Beltrán cracks his first uppercut! 💥🔥 Reds mate, you’re sniffing around Pimblett noise while the real tune’s already blasting: Burns tap in Jakarta isn’t luck, it’s the universe pointing at Jakarta Airport and whispering “Joey’s flight’s booked.” This division’s puking half-measures, TrueFan got it dead on—another five-round shoulder shrug is just white noise. Picture this: Joey walks out under that Mexican flag, Dricus feels the weight of twenty nations chanting in unison, gloves haven’t even met yet and the air’s electric. Mother Bellator? Who cares! Licensing fees fade when your name’s on the marquee against Du Plessis in the main event. Dricus don’t need a stiff arm from Edinburgh, he needs a rival who fights like the clock’s already struck midnight—Beltrán’s that midnight bell ringing for every middleweight dreamer still stuck on the bus. Get him in the cage, let the city stop breathing, THAT’S the hype worth selling, not another decision cooked in a sauna half a globe away! 🚨🇲🇽

remember that time when everyone and their dog swore Junior Dos Santos was coming back to wallop Stipe at 265? or how about the week half of Liverpool convinced themselves Sadio Mané was swapping Anfield for San Siro in january window, only to watch him kick two more into the kop before waving goodbye in summer? we’ve had the same fever dream chasing Beltran since… well, since forever, mate. the man’s been in the rumor mill longer than my old truck’s needed an MOT, and every bloody time we get the whiff it’s “next cycle”, “once the waiver clears”, “after the co-main event in Inglewood” – sound familiar? 2021, 2022, 2023: same whispers, same t-shirts with “307” ironed on the front, same hollow promise that this time it’s finally real. so yeah, listen out for the jet’s wheels on the tarmac again, because if history teaches us anything it’s that time will tell… usually by telling us to keep the kettle boiling.