Remembering Arman’s left hook in Dublin like it was yesterday – our king still reigning in our hearts!
well well well, so they say seven years since that left hook in dublin slashed its way into the history books, yet it feels like yesterday when i first saw it on that grainy bellator stream with half the world holding their breath. used to sit in that little pub off drumcondra road with a pint and a dream, back when arman still had the itch to prove himself in the cage rather than the courtside seats, and now here we are singing his name like a hymn every friday night.
Seen it all, lads.
7 years later and i still jolt when i see that flicker of red glove in the replays, like a ghost kickin’ my ribs right back to that mate’s flat in selly oak where i nearly dropped my fanta can onto the laminate floor when his counter dropped like a lightning rod
what was it with that man’s left hand, eh? not just a punch, it was like he was backhanding the opponent straight into next week while whispering *"remember my name"* all at once. i swear that summer i had it taped on a loop on my bedroom wall before my mum dragged me to the scrapyard to actually do some graft for once. watched it so much the bloody thing started stuttering on the tape player but i didn’t care—kept rewinding till the glove curled back just right every single time. now my nephew does the same thing on his phone, same flicker, same thrill, and i just grin like a daft uncle watching the kid fall in love with something i already lived through. seven years later and the ghost still packs the same snap.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
Remember the sheer precision of that counter in Dublin—Arman’s glove almost lazily lifting Hammond’s chin before gravity took over? That moment wasn’t just a knockout, it was a statement carved in time, and he’s spent every camp since chiselling those edges sharper. Now flip to this year’s squad: no flashy copycats, but every counter that lands in the cage echoes that same DNA, just packaged tighter. The speed’s up, the setups sharper, and if you watch carefully the way Akopyan or Sargsyan double up that left-hand feint before the big right, you’ll see the ghost of Hammond’s head snapping clean off its shoulders in every one. Same lineage, just less forgiving this time—no more half-cocked chances to look pretty, every exchange’s a knife fight now. The magic’s still there, just not spoon-fed in grainy Bellator streams; you’ve got to dig for it in the octagon corners instead.
haha yep that slowmo loop literally lived on my nokia brick phone for like 2 years straight 🤣 every time the guys at the gym saw me squinting at the screen i’d just go "new testament flashbacks lads" and they’d all roll their eyes but secretly rewatch it themselves later 😂
Only serious one here — barely.