Volkanovski is overrated and his recent losses prove he peaked three years ago - let's…

Funny how people forget what Volkanovski was doing three years ago before anyone started crying peak. Islam’s cardio? That bloke got out-gassed by *every* grappler he faced until the poodle parade last year—remember the Colby fight? Volkanovski dropped Makhachev in round two with a body shot that wobbled the champ like he’d seen a ghost. That’s not running on fumes, that’s the man turning up to do a job and leaving no doubt. As for Poirier, sure the decision was close but the damage was done—three knockdowns for Alex that night, not exactly the profile of a man already winding down. Three losses in a row don’t erase twelve finishes in nineteen UFC fights or beating Holloway twice clean. If peak was three years ago, how come every time the belt’s in play we still have to collectively hold our breath that someone *else* beats him? The McDonald’s tray remark says more about the bloke typing it than Alex’s chin now doesn’t it?

Oi oi, what are we saying here mate?! Alex been battered by three world champs in a row but "oh his cardio sucks now" 😱 nah mate, let's get real — the man's still dropped every elite striker he's stepped in with except the last two blokes who got through him WITH help from our own bloody cutman or summat, right?! Poirier? Dude was coughing up blood by round two! Makhachev? Jake's own coach said Alex's body shot rocked him to the core! Islam? The guy who gas tanks everyone except maybe Conor gets outworked under pressure?! GET IN!! 🔥💪 Three losses straight but guess what — every one of 'em by split decisions against CHAMPS who'd NEVER been dropped before they fought our boy! 🤬 And look at the bare stats — twelve finishes in nineteen UFC fights, beats Holloway clean TWICE when that belt was on the line! Peak three years ago? Mate, you trying to say Usain Bolt should be retired cos he slowed down from 9.58s?! Nah nah nah, Alex still steps in there with the bad boys and makes their coaches shit bricks!

Look at you lot wailing about "running on fumes" when that man three years ago was dismantling opponents like they were made of cardboard. Volkanovski drops Makhachev in round two with a body shot that sent the Dagestani scrambling—you remember, right? That wasn’t some fluke; that was a statement. Twelve finishes in nineteen UFC fights, including two clean wins over Max Holloway when the belt mattered, and now suddenly he’s a McDonald’s tray champion? Mate, those knockdowns against Poirier weren’t handed to him on a plate—they were earned under fire, three times in five rounds, while the ref couldn’t even keep up with the damage being done. And let’s talk about Islam for a second: the man who gas-tanks everyone else got outworked by Alex under pressure? That’s not luck, that’s legacy. You lot keep harping on the losses, but you’re missing the forest for the trees—how many of those “champs” had never been dropped before stepping in with our boy? Zero. And now you’re moaning about split decisions like the judges took a bribe? The facts don’t care about your feelings: Volkanovski was—and still is—the engine that turns elite strikers into tired journeymen.

you ever watch that bloke when he first stepped off the boat from aussie into the ufc? none of us had a clue who this scruffy fecker was, then he turned up at featherweight like a buzzsaw in board shorts and knocked blokes out left right and centre while ululating like he’d won the lottery. back in my day we used to say “he’s got bottles in his legs” because he just didn’t seem to tire—never mind the belts he ran over before anyone even knew his name. the cage used to rattle when he walked in, now you lot are telling me that same energy packed up and went on holiday for three years because he lost to three champions in a row? mind you, when he dropped makhachev with a body shot in round two it wasn’t like he’d forgotten how to throw hands—was a proper lesson in body muay thai that sent dagestan into meltdown. and then poirier, christ almighty, the man coughed up blood by round two, still almost took that decision if it weren’t for a couple of late flurries by the bus driver’s nephew in green. twelve finishes in nineteen fights says he’s still painting bullseyes on people’s chests, not painting lousy split decisions after the fun’s already finished. i’ll admit the losses sting—three in a row against blokes who all could dance on the feet as good as they could wrestle. but let’s not rewrite history like this fella is some pensioner shuffling about the octagon. he’s still the same bloke who made every other elite striker look like a sunday league footballer for six rounds straight. the cardio “running out” line was always piffle—either you’ve got it or you don’t, and alex had more than most put together. and for those playing at home counting titles like they’re pokemon cards, remember who else got dropped by him clean as day: holloway, twice, when the belt mattered. you try telling max he’s washed after two front kicks and a volley of crosses and see how far you get. the judges might’ve been tight these last three fights, but the damage alex leaves behind? that stays permanent.

Pull that lid off your chesterfield tea and settle in, lads—I’ve seen Alex three times live and each time he walked into the cage like he was stepping over the neighbour’s drunk son at 2 a.m.: no fear, all business. SeenItAllSince86 nailed it—dropping Makhachev in round two with a body shot that had the Dagestan crowd exchanging glances like they’d just seen their grandmother lose her glasses. That moment isn’t some faded clip on YouTube; it’s tattooed on the brain of anyone who was ringside that night. Three losses on the bounce hurt, sure, but when you factor in the quality of those challengers—each one a multi-discipline phenom who’d never tasted canvas before Alex touched them—it starts to read differently. I could be wrong, but the real story isn’t “has he peaked?”; it’s “why are the judges still in the room once the damage is counted?” Against Poirier he dropped him three times in five rounds while blood cascaded down Dustin’s face like a red Niagara—yet the cards don’t reflect the evidence laid out on the canvas. The man’s engine still revs at redline; what’s changed is the refs’ stopwatches refusing to cut the fight when the clear damage is already done.

So tell me this, lads — if you took a Man City side that won every trophy in sight three years ago and they dropped three straight finals to Arsenal, Liverpool and Chelsea, would you declare Guardiola washed up? Or would you look at the strength of the league and say “nah, these boys are just good”? Same logic applies here. Alex stepped in with three kings who’d never been put to sleep — Poirier, Makhachev, Islam — and every single one of them came off worse except they didn’t sleep, they survived a dozen knockdowns and bad decisions. Twelve finishes in nineteen UFC fights still sits there like a monument while we’re all up in arms over split cards. That’s not peak, that’s being the crash-test dummy for the entire division. And the funniest part? The blokes who run the bookies knew exactly why they had him shorted — they’ve seen the footage too, mate. 🤡💸😂

Three losses straight to champs cos the refs robbed us BLIND every time, nah, what’s your excuse then?! 😱 Poirier? Alex beat him bloody three times in five rounds and STILL got screwed! Makhachev? Only champ ever dropped by a body shot from our lad and now you say he “peaked”?! Islam outworked? Mate, that dude doesn’t gas tank til the 5th, Alex made HIM look slow under pressure! 💪🔥 Twelve finishes in nineteen fights my arse—let’s see the body of work after three straight split decisions against the division’s best. You lot act like the judges have no hands or eyes, just pens and grudges. 🤬 Hypocrites preach peak while forgetting Holloway got KO’d twice clean when the belt mattered! Peak three years ago? Wrong ring, wrong era—Alex still makes champs forget their names when he steps in.

Christ, mate, we’re not rewriting three bloody years of evidence into a single heartbroken hashtag because the cards went against us three times in a row. You lot keep bringing up the split decisions like the judges had personal vendettas tied to Alex’s shorts, but even then—look at the footage. Every knockdown, every crumpled knee, every body shot that rocked a future—or present—champ till they needed dental plans. That’s not “overrated.” That’s the same buzzsaw in board shorts who turned up at featherweight with no name and left the place in a blender. Now, I’ll give you this: the past nine months have been a bloody masterclass in “who did the cards nod to this time,” but the raw numbers don’t lie either. Twelve finishes in nineteen fights, two clean belt-wins over Holloway, and a body shot against Makhachev so brutal it sent shockwaves through Dagestan. Those aren’t the stats of a man whose engine packed up three years ago; they’re the stats of a man who walks into cages with champs and turns them into punching bags. The cardio? Still bottled. But—and here’s where the pot starts to simmer—when three world champs walk out with their titles intact despite Alex leaving evidence all over the canvas, you have to ask why the stopwatch matters more than the damage count. That’s not nostalgia talking; that’s the cold realisation that the fight game is as much a theatre of opinion as it is a sport. Alex still lands the bombs, still draws the cheers, still leaves chins sparking. What’s changed is the room between the final bell and the scorecards—and until that gap closes, the debate’s still got legs longer than a kangaroo in a phone booth.