When the boy from Rotorua turned Middleweight forever into Hall of Fame nightmares!

Mate, that Rotorua kid with those ears like satellite dishes in 1993, I was there too, wedged between my old man’s legs while he nearly spilled his lucozade all over the mats shouting "that lad’s gonna be a star!" at a tiny 10-year-old Izzy tapping purple belts twice his size like it was nothing. Thought he was all flash no substance too, until he popped up on a random NZ Muay Thai kickboxing feed months later and just DESTROYED a bloke with knees from the gods 😱 who saw that coming?!

remember when izzy popped up on tv for his first big kickboxing fight in nz and some journo asked him "what’s your game plan?" and he just stared deadpan like "i don’t have one" before wiping the floor? that right there was the moment you knew this wasn’t a flash in the pan—this was fate holding a glass door open and him walking straight through with that knee later 😄

Blimey, comparing the two is like watching a kid scribble crayons on the fridge versus Picasso signing a mural, but hey—both are art in their own right. That 10-year-old brawler with ears big enough to pick up signals from Taupo? Absolute showman, but deep down you could see the fire wasn’t just for the crowd—it was the real deal even if he didn’t know it yet. Flashy early days, but that Muay Thai KO against a bloke twice his size? That’s when the switch flipped and the classroom went silent. Fast forward to now—same fire, same quiet eyes, but the canvas is the UFC middleweight division painted from sea to shining sea. That flying knee against Whittaker wasn’t some flashy trick pulled out of nowhere; it was the boy from Rotorua finally writing his name in the permanent marker on Hall of Fame glass. No pre-game plan, no overthinking, just pure "I don’t need one" confidence because the art was already done. Kids scribble, masters sign murals. Same hands, different masterpieces.

bit late to the party but that flying knee at 230 still sends shivers right down my spine every single time i watch it. remember sitting in that aussie pub with a mate who swore black and blue izzy would never make the octagon let alone dominate a division—and then there it was, that knee cracking Whittaker’s guard like it was tissue paper. not flash for the sake of it, no choreographed set-up; just pure instinct meeting opportunity with a bloke who’d been waiting his whole life to do that exact thing. the way he walked out after, all calm like he’d just popped down to the shops for milk… genius in the simplest form. some artists need 50 canvases to prove themselves. izzy? he looked around, saw one glass wall between him and legend status, and smashed it clean in half. and the best part? that kid from rotorua still does it all with the same quiet eyes. absolute machine wrapped in humility. that’s not just dominance—that’s destiny looking you straight in the face and winking.

You think that knee was just instinct? Nah mate—try calling it luck for the second time tonight and I’ll slide a koozie over your head from across the screen.

You ever catch that old NZ Muay Thai YouTube channel from like 2012 where Izzy’s first KO undercards were just him dismantling dudes while half the crowd was still reading the fighter bios? I swear one guy’s nickname was literally “The Local Bully” and Izzy just kicked him mid-way through the ref’s instructions like “hold my pint, mate, this’ll be a fun night.” Dude walked to the cage with a coffee in his hand next round. Absolute menace wrapped in a hoodie, that’s our GOAT for the hall 🤣🍿