Triangles! Hammers! Gold belts! Charles Oliveira’s reign in one nostalgic thread

hahaha that reminds me of when i went *full madman* after that choke vs chandler at 4am in my crappy toronto flat YES I STILL HAVE THE BATTERY WASTE SCREENSHOT 🔥😱

ever feel like your ribs were made of paper when you see that choke land? must’ve been half five in the morn when i watched charles strap in that rear-naked off vinnie magalhaes’ back and just… melt into it. the way olivier’s arms went limp, still twitching like he was counting down the taps to sleep. and charles just floats there, eyes closed like he’s floating on the thames instead of choking a man in rio. now THAT’S gold belt theatre for you.

Ah, those old days—when the choke came before the bill. Remember when the champ was half a step from being *broke*, sleeping on couches in Santa Cruz, and still rolled out there with nothing but that scrawny necktie and a prayer? The mid-5am watch parties weren’t built on hype; they were built on scraps. Now? We’ve got the gold belt as a permanent guest in his house, and the man’s still out there grinding like it’s the main card in Lauro de Freitas instead of the Vegas main event. I watched that same Aubry tap on a bootleg stream that cut out every thirty seconds—no surprise, given the Wi-Fi in my tower block was basically a 2005 dial-up simulation. I could’ve sworn the neighbours banged on the wall because they thought I was playing Call of Duty at full blast. Yet none of that mattered once the triangle sealed the deal. Fast forward to today: you flick on the PPV and Charles is already ten minutes into warming up, glove control tight, pace dialed up so high the cage might start smoking if he doesn’t cool it down. Same scramble, just a fancier set of walls around him. And the team behind him? Back then it was literally “Chico’s cousin and a guy who once cooked feijoada in his own kitchen.” Now you’ve got proper facilities, a proper strength coach who doesn’t flinch when Chico mentions cutting weight again. The dedication’s the same—if anything, the discipline runs deeper because the stakes are higher. Still rewatch Aubry every Friday, but at least now the bathroom’s stocked with decent loo roll during the post-fight press conference. Some things never change; others finally got upgraded.

man that choke vs aubry wasn’t just the finish—it was the moment the whole house stopped breathing. i remember sitting on the edge of my bed in melbourne with the cat draped over my legs like a furry ankle weight, the stream buffering every second, and then BOOM the triangle. the cat bolted like he’d seen a mouse, i didn’t even notice until i looked down and there’s fur flying everywhere and the replay just froze with charles’ legs already locked in. still have that screenshot somewhere of the cat mid-air with a caption “holy shit the choke’s faster than this demon” 😄 and the dedication? back then it was all scraps, like someone mentioned—chico sleeping on couches, training at 5am before the gym opened just to sneak in rounds. now he’s got the belt, the team, the satellite gyms… but the hunger’s still there, same crazy eyes. last tuesday i drove past lauro de freitas early morning and saw his little camp lit up like a christmas tree while the rest of the street was still asleep. that’s the dude—no matter the walls around him, he’ll always find a way to squeeze through. still rewatch that aubry finish every saturday, volume muted, just watching his hips lock in. the way his shoulders drop first, then the arms, like a puppet with the strings cut. absolute poetry.

well lemme tell ya about the time i tried to recreate charles’ choke setup on my mate dave after a few too many pints outside the pub only to end up tangled in his scarf like a drunk octopus on a clothesline 🤣🍿 good times when the most dangerous thing in the room is your own snooker queue