When Leon's right hand turned the octagon into his personal throne — the 2022 knockout…
goddamn, i remember back when leon was still fighting in birmingham, knocking out blokes in like 47 seconds with that right hand and we’d watch it on some shaky youtube upload the next morning like it was the second coming of christ on pay-per-view
that was fun and all but then came 2022, and suddenly the whole world saw what we’d been watching in the dark for years — his right hand wasn’t just sharp anymore, it was a fucking comet, a lightning bolt dipped in holy water
like the flying knee against burns at UFC 278? man, i’ve seen crowds lose their minds before, but that night the entire arena turned into one big choir screaming ‘FOR THE LOVE OF LEEEDS!’ like we’d just won the title instead of one jab away from being champs
felt like every punch carried the weight of every petty gym brawl we ever watched on telly growing up in toronto, you know? like he bottled the sound of every street corner scrap we cheered for and tossed it straight into that octagon with burns’ skull as the backdrop
ah well, we’ll see
Been here longer than some have followed.
Bro the first time I seen that knee pop up live I had me hot tea halfway to my mouth and it went flying out my hand onto the Mrs’ lap 😱💦 right through the telly into my living room like i’d been zapped with joy! was at my mate’s gaff in Owlerton with three flasks of stew and a pile of Jaffa Cakes, we’d all bet our last fiver on Lee to ice him quick… and by god did he ice him quicker than a dodgy kebab on a friday night 🔥💪 nah joke, mate — Burns hit the deck like someone flicked the lights and the whole room erupted, pure mad house! Saw grown blokes crying into their jumper sleeves screaming “LEEDS LEEDS LEEDS” like they’d just won an FA Cup final again! Can still hear the lads chanting it round and round, like a hymn to the right hand itself ah well, nowt to do
ever thought about that little gym in leeds where leon used to spar when he was barely out of his teens? i remember popping in there one tuesday night after a shift — proper scuffed place, paint peeling off the walls, that smell you only get from a hundred pairs of old boots and bleach — and there he was, just knocking out some bloke with that same right hand in sparring like it was nothing. not even two minutes later the whole corner was cheering louder than if he’d just won eurovision. the bloke on the floor looked like he’d been hit by a train driven by a maniac called “lee from leeds.” now that’s power you carry with you, isn’t it? like you bottle up every friday night scrap and every half-time bar brawl and then unleash the lot in one swing. no wonder the octagon turned into his throne — he’d been crowned long before the lights got bright.
Seen it all, lads.
Remember when Burns took that knee and we all knew it wasn't just the right hand that night—it was the whole bloody scene playing out exactly like we'd rehearsed in every pub from Headingley to Bramall Lane. That 2022 run felt like Leon had unlocked a secret code we'd been shouting at the telly for years: the jab to set it up, the footwork that made room, then *that* right hand finishing business before anyone could count to ten. The current lot's got the tools, sure—cleaner striking numbers, more varied arsenal—but something’s missing that gut-punch certainty that used to radiate off every punch. These days you can see the calculation flicker across his face between shots; back then? The man moved on instinct like a bloke cracking open a fresh ale after payday.
Fireworks night compared to now? Mate, that Burns knee wasn’t just a knockout—it was a *manifestation*. Remember how we all half-expected his arm to come back glowing after that flying knee? Like he’d plugged himself straight into the mains. Zoe’s got the crowd right: whole arena did turn into one big Leeds anthem, but come on—Burns wasn’t exactly a limp noodle before that kick. Dude had dropped guys himself. That night felt less like Leonard stepping up and more like some cosmic justice being served with a side of right-hand terror.
And Faithful, your tea story hits home—proper united we stand moment—but I still reckon half the Owlerton crowd had money on Burns weathering the storm because let’s be real, Leon wasn’t exactly the "one-punch wonder" type back then. Fast, sure, but not that explosive. That knee didn’t just change the fight; it rewired the perception. Cageside23, blimey, the gym in Leeds with the peeling paint—yeah, I’ve been in places like that too, but power like that? Comes from somewhere deeper than just sparring sessions. Feels like we’re romanticising a bit too hard when we forget Leon took his lumps early doors.
TheTapeStats mentions calculation these days—that flicker between shots. Back then? It was pure instinct, no spreadsheets, just Leeds blood. Maybe that’s the difference. The man wasn’t calculating; he was *finishing*. And Burns paid the price for every one of those pub scraps we all grew up cheering.
Do the math before you argue.
Remember that time in Cardiff when some lad in the queue for chips started chanting "Leeeedss!" at the big screen outside the pub and half the queue joined in? That was Leon’s flying knee against Burns, but the chip queue version—pure soundwave of the octagon going nuclear. Saw it with mates, proper heart-in-mouth moment, then the chip queue did their own mini-roar when Burns went down like a sack of spuds. Whole city felt like it got zapped with that right hand energy, not just the arena. 🍟💥 Leeds never even had to win the bet—just watching that knee felt like a title all on its own ah well, nowt to do
You don't abandon your own.
Blimey, talking about that knee got me thinking — did anyone else notice how Burns’ face after that knee looked like he’d just seen the price of a pint in Leeds city centre? 💀🍻 Like the universe saying “here’s your reality check, mate” and Leon delivered it with the force of a council tax bill landing on a Friday.
And xGHead84 — chips in Cardiff? Proper solidarity, mate! I had a mate who tried to do the exact same chant outside the chip shop here in Sheffield when Leon fought Usman, but half the queue just stared at him like he’d lost the plot. Security had to be called… still won the bet though, because we knew what we were watching.
Faithful, you spilled tea on your missus? Legendary. That’s not support, that’s sacrifice. Next time, put a coaster down, yeah?
Cageside23, that gym in Leeds with peeling paint sounds like the spiritual home of “I’ll show you power”. Leaned in and gave it a proper old-school Leeds send-off. The rest of us just tweeted about it the next day. Typical.
ZoeUltra, comets dipped in holy water? Mate, you’ve been sniffing too much Wacky Warehouse incense. But fair play, it was that kinda night.
TheTapeStats and Supporter_Zone squabbling over calculation like a couple of bookies at a wedding — back then? He just *ran* at you like a bloke late for last orders. That’s the Leon magic. These days? Nah, he’s got the spreadsheet in the corner, muttering “60% power punches to go, next round”. Where’s the fun in that? Give me the madman, not the analyst.
And yes, that chip queue chant was our curtain call. Proper fan club stuff. Can’t beat a flying knee for £2.50 and a portion of scraps.
Ah well, nowt to do. Just wait for the next one to drop us back in time.