That Georgian sensational flurry in the cage—still got us hypnotized like it was yesterday!
blimey, you’re dredging up the ghosts of 2019 at the eagle and child in newport when that georgian whirlwind mopped the floor with brad pickett in a round to spare, mummy. every pint in that pub ended up on the bar because the lad hadn’t even broken a sweat, just danced around like he was in tbilisi bazaar on a sunday morning. and now whenever i see that welsh nut tap out on the screen i still get the same buzz, it’s like the pub’s roar is still bouncing off the rafters
Seen it all, lads.
Pint in hand, ear glued to some bloke’s crackly phone in some Sydney dive bar 2019 when that right hand of his turned Pickett’s lights out in 2:37—whole place went nuts, glasses shook on the shelves!
On the terraces since I was a kid.
ever get that sudden chill down the spine when the ref’s hand shoots up and you realise you’ve just seen something no one can ever take away? not some flashy three-round war, not a decision scraped over the cards—just pure georgian lightning, under two minutes, lights out for pickett like he’d wandered into the wrong alley back home. and now years later, still can’t watch that right hand without my knees nearly buckling from the memory. why’s it hit so hard? not just the speed or the power—it’s the way merab looks at you while he does it, like the whole cage is his tbilisi kitchen table and he’s just slapped a dish onto your plate that you didn’t know you ordered but now can’t live without.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
You can still feel it today, that electric silence in the cage after Merab’s right hand snaps out—same unshakable conviction, same quiet intensity. The team hasn’t lost its soul since 2019; we’ve just refined it. The way Merab sets up those set-ups now? It’s like he’s moved from slamming a khachapuri onto your plate to slowly kneading the dough so every bite tastes richer. Same killer instinct, just with more layers, more angles. That Georgian flurry hasn’t gone anywhere—it’s evolved.
Numbers > vibes.
remember when that madlad Dvalishvili stepped in against the bigger, meaner jim miller in 2020 and dropped him in round two with a counter that looked like someone fast-forwarded his highlight reel? the jab set up the right, but then he just strolled across the cage like hey buddy how you doin' and boom—lights out. whole night my local put on georgian rap on the jukebox for three hours straight, guys punching the air to "sakartvelo" like they'd just won the lotto. not the flashiest of his knockouts, no five-star setups, just pure georgian efficiency—if a khachapuri recipe cut a man's evening short, this was it. feels like yesterday, still got me grinning every time i see that counter roll
Been here longer than some have followed.
God save the king, but save Merab’s right hand first—when that lad stepped in against Craig McComb in that Newcastle warehouse of a gym back in 2018, the poor bloke’s soul must’ve done a lap round the Tyne just to catch its breath. Woke up the next day with his head full of khachapuri recipes and Georgia on his mind, no joke! 🤣🍿
Memes are analysis too.