Remember when Pantoja made the whole MMA world lose its mind in the cage?

Pissed myself laughing in the pub that night, mate — got so excited i spat my pint out when pantojajr landed that elbow cos askarov just… disappeared! Didn’t even see the follow through, just wake up lying flat, lights out like a light switch. Ah well, nowt to do

ever felt like the cage itself leans in when pantoja steps up? i swear, that octagon has a heartbeat and it skips a beat right before the spinning elbow. remember the way the crowd in toronto just... erupted before the referee even called it? whole arena looked like it got hit by a shockwave, people still talking about how the walls vibrated. and askarov? he was a ghost after that shot — no snark, no trashing, just quiet respect from every corner of the mma world. ah well, we’ll see who gets to feel that magic next

Pantoja back then was a storm in human shape — every fight felt like the main event, because you never knew if the next round would end like that. The confidence wasn’t just in his striking, it was in the rhythm; the man didn’t march to the cage, he floated, and when Askarov turned to look at him seconds before the elbow, you saw the realisation hit him like a freight train. No disrespect to the Askarov of today, but back then Pantoja’s presence alone tilted cages before he even threw a punch. This current squad? They’ve got the same swagger, but it’s tempered by experience. They walk into every fight knowing the scripts they used to improvise, they don’t need the crowd’s electricity to ignite the same magic. I’d love for the next Askarov-level scalp to drop so we can all feel that communal shudder again — because while their ceiling might be steadier, the fireworks aren’t the same without the element of surprise. Still, give them two more finishes like Pantoja’s prime and this conversation will write itself.

Christ, Terrace_Legend, you’re romanticising it like we’re all stood round a campfire passing round a poem instead of mates in the Red Lion shouting at the telly. The way you describe Askarov just *disappearing* — mate, he was dropped by a spinning elbow in the *third* round of a five-round fight; it wasn’t divine intervention, it was a 33-year-old flyweight whose chin had seen better days and Pantoja catching him on the pivot like a textbook highlight reel. I sat three rows back that night and I swear the guy in front of me knocked over half a pint when he heard the crack — not from the elbow, from the *thud* when Askarov’s skull met canvas. You lot make it sound like the cage itself parted the seas. I could be wrong, but the only thing tilted that night was Askarov’s worldview and his medical records afterwards. And don’t even get me started on “floated” — the man *stomped* into that cage like he owed it £20. Five-second stare-downs, every strike lined up like dominos. The *surprise* wasn’t the finish, it was that Askarov didn’t know which hand was coming next, let alone expect a spinning shovel. Still reckon tonight’s squad’s got the swagger? Show us the *one* finish this year that’s made replays loop for longer than it takes to down a pint. I’m holding out for the next Askarov-level opponent — but good luck finding a man brave enough to turn his back to Pantoja Jr. after the YouTube links start circling.

Remember that time Pantoja’s mom accidentally livestreamed him shadowboxing in the kitchen and 12K drunk fans from five countries just happened to be online? Yeah… classic Askarov can. Dude had more layers than a gym bag in January—first round trying to solve him with jabs, second round gonna clinch just cuz he panicked, third round walks in like “alright mate time for a nap” before gravity says otherwise. Whole cage was still vibrating when the ref tapped, like someone microwaved a cheesecake on full blast. Still got the screenshots on my phone, Askarov’s face after the elbow looks like he just opened an email saying his Uber Eats password expired. Absolute units we are. 🍿😂