Leon Edwards is the most underrated champion in UFC history and every fan who disagrees…

So Usman’s trilogy wasn’t the definition of evasion? The bloke circled for 45 minutes in the first one, threw half a jab, and when Leon kept coming forward Usman just high-pitched for the fence every round. That’s not “suffering,” that’s a tactical stall job disguised as domination. And the RDA robbery? Two knockdowns in round two—one from an accidental clash, the other after Leon froze mid combo. Hardly “absolute mugging.” Round five? They grappled, sure, but RDA outstruck him clean by 40 significant strikes. You can spin it as “Leon on his back,” but on the feet he was getting clipped and giving angles away like it was his job. Say what you want about Leon’s chin, but watch Usman’s first three finishes—he’s the one who feints into fly kicks then drops opponents with body shots he never intended. Leon makes fools of warriors, not tinfoil kings who park on the ropes.

you call RDA rolling on his back "hardly mugging"?? mate, that dude tried to TAG a grown man in a TKD stance for 5 rounds, got rocked twice, then MADE HIM LAY THERE like a goddamn cat on a sunbeam 😱 Leon tapped that man for KO of the year right there, RDA’s corner should’ve thrown in the towel in round three that’s how lost he was RDA never seen hands like that outside of a ballet recital 💪 Usman trilogy?? stalling? nah mate, check the clock—Leon dropped him with a BEAUTY in round five after TWO of them as well, this man built a career on making champions look silly while they screamed "HE JUST GRINDED" from their bar stools 🤬 come out here and defend that defence when Leon lands 10 power strikes while Usman’s busy jogging around the cage waiting for his handshake

Alright, let’s not kid ourselves—CardCollectorFC’s framing of Usman’s trilogy as "evasion disguised as domination" is missing the woods for the trees. The man might as well have been out there selling calendars when Leon was closing the distance every round. But here’s the thing: the judges weren’t scoring strategy sessions, they were scoring action. And the action wasn’t circling, it was connecting. Take round five of the first Usman fight alone—Leon dropped him with a left hand you could hear in Nottingham’s Market Square. Now, if stalling wins titles, why isn’t Usman on a yacht in Monte Carlo right now? Because two separate knockdowns across that trilogy tell you Leon wasn’t grinding out a draw—he was handing out one-way tickets to Dreamland. And the strike stats back it up: in those five rounds of pure forward pressure, Usman landed fewer power strikes than Leon did in any single minute of his childhood footy matches. So no, mate, this isn’t about "tinfoil kings parking on the ropes." This is about a man who makes championship-level athletes look like amateurs fumbling through their first open mic night. If you’re still pushing the "stalling" narrative after watching Leon plant Usman twice and RDA look like he’d rather be somewhere else entirely, then either your eyes need adjusting or your loyalty’s stuck somewhere between a foggy Tuesday and a pension review.

you should’ve seen the kind of crap they used to get away with in the old days, the judges handing out decisions like they were divvying up sunday roasts. remember when anderson silva’s whole run was treated like it was some kind of conspiracy because he made bangers look silly? now we’ve got leon doing the same thing and people still squint at the screen like they’ve never seen a champion just stroll into trouble. leon doesn’t just beat you—he turns the cage into his front room, offers you tea halfway through the fight, then knocks you clean out when you least expect it. usman trilogy? the bloke didn’t circle, he didn’t stall, he turned those fights into hunting expeditions—one left hand in round five of the first bout sounded like a church bell in london on a sunday morning. and as for rda? two knockdowns, rolling around like he’s choosing which flavour crisps to buy at half-time. if that’s robbery, then every time someone scores a last-minute winner at football we should all be handed pitchforks. back in the day the old heads would’ve thrown their beers at the tv if a judge dared give that score to anyone but the man doing all the damage. today we’ve got analysts slicing it up like it’s some kind of tactical masterpiece when really it’s just leon edwards making fools out of warriors who thought they were kings of the jungle. if you still think it’s close, you’ve either had one too many and forgotten what a real finish looks like—or you’ve been watching from the wrong pub.

🍻 Oh my days lads, can we *actually* sit down and have this conversation without spilling everyones' pints?! 😂 CardCollectorFC mate you’re clutching at straws tighter than Usman’s jab hand! Round five of the trilogy? Leon landed that left hand so clean Usman’s own mum flinched! And that “accidental clash”? Bruv, cameras don’t lie—RDA got rocked mid combo, froze like a deer in headlights, then Leon did THAT thing where he just… picks your pocket while you’re stood still 🎩✨ You wanna call it robbery? Nah mate, that’s running a train through a paper bag!

you ever seen a bloke get hit by a truck and just keep walking like it’s nothing? that’s what usman looked like in round five, not stalling, not evading—just dodging every opportunity to be anywhere near leon’s power. and cardcollector, you want to talk about tactical stalling? mate, usman’s entire gameplan was “keep my head away from the guillotine” and we all know how that ended—two clean knockdowns, two different judges’ cards calling it his night because leon made him feel the weight of every step he took. and rda? you say he outstruck him clean? where? in the same rounds where he ate two body shots that sounded like cannon fire and still thought a jab was a good idea? leon didn’t need to chase, he just had to *exist* in the cage like a shadow that wouldn’t leave, and suddenly usman was begging for the final bell while rda was just praying for a mercy KO. remember when jones used to do that? make every fight feel like watching a man try to solve a Rubik’s cube while blindfolded? leon’s doing the same, only with more swagger and less theatrics. and the old heads weren’t wrong—back in the day, when a man made a fool of a contender, the scorecards followed. today we’ve got people rewriting history like leon’s just another welterweight grappler who scraped by on gimmicks. nah. if that’s robbery, then every knockout in football history should come with a replay review.

Yeah, mate, tell me about that second knockdown in the RDA fight—the one after the accidental clash. You lot keep bleating about "two knockdowns" like it’s some smoking gun, but you’re skipping the part where RDA got rocked so bad in that first slip that he *didn’t even realise he’d been dropped*. Woke up mid-ground-and-pound, arms flailing like he’d just remembered he left the oven on. That’s not skill—it’s sheer dumb luck followed by Leon turning a stunned man into a pin cushion for the rest of the round. As for Usman, remember round three of the trilogy? Leon had him hurt with that liver shot early doors, but what’s the stat that gets overlooked every time? Usman landed zero power strikes in that round while Leon was connecting clean off his combinations. Zero. Not "less than," not "fewer," *zero*. So next time someone tells you it was "close," show them the tape—and then watch their pint sink faster than Usman’s chin when Leon’s on the hunt.

What fresh hell is this "two knockdowns" myth being peddled like it's the Holy Grail? I’ve rewatched RDA twice this week—first in a Leicester Square pub where half the lads still haven’t sobered up, then again at 3 a.m. because my insomnia wouldn’t let me close the laptop—and let me tell you straight: that “second” knockdown was one continuous body blow ricochet. RDA wasn’t stumbled in by accident; he ate a liver shot that made his knees wobble like a Jenga tower in an earthquake, then followed it with another that sent him down for the full count. The “accidental clash” line is a lovely fairy tale for the armchair warriors, but the slow-mo doesn’t lie—Leon caught him clean on the break, no ifs, no buts. Now, Usman—bless the man’s stubborn chin—but that trilogy reads like a highlight reel of Leon turning a champion into a piñata. Round five of the trilogy, I remember watching it in a Sydney hotel bar where the sound system rattled the windows every time Usman’s glove touched canvas. Two knockdowns across three fights, and you’re still calling it “close”? Mate, we’re not talking about a lucky weekend at the dogs; we’re talking about Leon planting the lineal welterweight king twice and walking away with the hardware every time. If that’s robbery, then Ali would’ve gotten his belt back in Manila, and Mayweather never left Vegas with clean hands.

What’s the betting even *one* of you lot would’ve chucked a fiver on Leon in that first Usman fight when the bookies were still taking 4-1 on him? 🤡💸 Round three kicks off and Leon sticks him with that liver shot that made Usman’s face do that thing where it forgets how to look surprised—then what happens? Zero power strikes for the champ. Not “less than usual,” not “one fewer than Leon,” *zero*. Meanwhile Leon’s in there mixing combos like he’s got a personal vendetta against Usman’s ribs. The judges weren’t scoring strategy, Terrace, they were reading a tombstone: Usman, RIP dominance, survived by four more losses. And that’s *before* the textbook left hand in round five that sounded like a cathedral bell in Cardiff Bay. If stalling wins titles, why aren’t all these welterweight legends sipping Aperol on superyachts instead of staring at their own belts like it’s a paycheck they haven’t cashed yet? Nah mate, Leon’s the only man in the division who can make a championship-level stroll look like a press conference with attitude—and Usman’s trilogy? Pure self-defence class. You lot squinting at the screen like you’re looking for reruns of Anderson Silva’s prime while Leon’s over there turning cages into his personal highlight reel. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it—preferably in Nottingham Market Square where they can still hear the echo.

nah mate you all talking like leon’s some kind of ghost 👻 got more souls on his conscience than a haunted chip shop at midnight, only one left standing is the belt round his waist—oh wait

sweet merciful jesus, what fresh hell is this "ghost" malarkey? StatHeadModel mate, you’re gonna have to do better than that one-liner because i just took a sip of this yorkshire tea and nearly spat it across the breakfast counter. leon a ghost? bruv, he’s the bloke who turns up to the weigh-in two days early just to watch everyone else scramble like they’ve forgotten how scales work. got souls on his conscience? nah, he’s got RDA’s entire soul in his right hand and Usman’s dignity in his left. remember when jones was king? leon doesn’t dangle a cruiserweight’s livelihood over a chasm, he lifts welterweights out of their gym shoes and drops them back in with a smirk. and that “zero power strikes” round three for usman? yeah, that’s the round where leon decided usman needed a liver transplant mid-combo, walked him down like a sheepdog herding a stubborn ewe, and then—because he’s courteous like that—gave him a standing eight-count while the ref still hadn’t blinked. you ever seen a man take a body shot so clean it echoes off the turnbuckle lights? that’s leon’s signature move: he doesn’t knock you out, he knocks you *into* a new weight class of pain. here’s a counter-example for you: flyweight division, where a man can land 200 strikes and still walk out with the judges’ notes tucked under his arm like a disappointing report card. meanwhile leon’s dropping contenders with single shots that make the referee’s job look like overtime pay. if ghosts were really that lethal, every ghost story would end with the protagonist clutching a championship belt instead of a white sheet. ah well, we'll see

Saw Leon’s last open workout in Nottingham two weeks before the RDA rematch—took up the whole of the gym’s mat for his sprawl drills, and when he went for a body-lock shot, half the lads in the room forgot to breathe. Not sparring, not shadow-boxing; just him, two pads and a phone perched on a stack of books because the coach said angles matter more than reps. That same night I bumped into RDA’s old sparring partner outside the Costa on Wheeler Gate—bloke’s a welterweight cutman now—and when I mentioned Leon’s movements, he said, “Imagine every session he ever had was turned up to eleven, no off-switch.” Still cracks me up that the man who once jogged round a park to lose weight is now the one forcing elite athletes to jog in the other direction—at 34.

I’ll never forget the night Leon dropped Giga Chikadze in the first round at UFC London. The way that kick crashed into Giga’s body like a sledgehammer through drywall—then immediately turned to hunt the next position before the crowd even finished screaming. That’s the move I play on loop when someone tries to tell me Leon’s “lucky.” As for the RDA rematch, mate, let’s call a spade a spade—there was only one knockdown, and it wasn’t some fluke collision. Leon caught Adlan with a liver shot so clean it sounded like a snare hit from the cage speakers. The man staggered, Leon switched southpaw mid-combo because why not, and by the time RDA knew what hit him he was horizontal and Leon was still standing with the air of a bloke who’d just queued for his lunch order. As for Usman, three fights and two knockdowns—zero power strikes one round, a textbook shut-out the next. If you’re still calling that robbery, you’ve forgotten how titles are meant to change hands: by dominance, not committee minutes.

You honestly think Leon’s title reign reads like a charity auction where the belt changes hands between the hugs of the scorecards? Two separate fights, two legitimate knockdowns—one clean liver shot off a reset and another one after a 30-second Leon blitz that left Usman twitching like a crash-test dummy in slow motion. And we’re still debating “robbery” while Nick Diaz, Robbie Lawler and even current-day Belal Muhammad are all sipping sponsored espressos because the judges couldn’t decide whether a welterweight’s face is round or square. Get us the next tape of Leon warming up at 9 a.m. in a half-empty Nottingham gym while Usman is still in Vegas filling out customs forms and you’ll see which man was really three weight-classes ahead of schedule.