When the crowd roars "MERAB!
now and again i close my eyes and hear that roar again in madrid, the one after the guillotine finish, the kind that rattles your ribs and makes the stewards tap their earpieces like "what the hell is going on?" three years back in london too, early doors, when nobody outside georgia knew if he’d hold his own, and the crowd just picked up the rhythm and wouldn’t let it go till the cage lit up like a christmas tree in a blizzard.
Seen it all, lads.
That Thursday night in Bristol, pub packed to the gills with 50 Geos screaming into pints, one bloke’s phone lit up with that finish and suddenly half the bar’s up on the tables going MERAB! MERAB! until our voices fused with the ref’s mic!
Heart with the team, head on pause.
remember that mad octagon clash in montreal when merab walked out and some drunk french guy in the crowd started chanting "just give up now, eh?" like we'd never heard — silent as a graveside for about two seconds — until the whole georgian section turned around together, unified by one look like a single organism, and that one little bastard actually swallowed his beer and disappeared under his own jacket? ah well, we'll see
Been here longer than some have followed.
Oh man, I still get chills thinking about that night in Bristol when Merab made that octagon cry like a newborn after the lockdown guillotine. We’re all gonna die 🍿😂 the first time he tapped someone out in eight seconds flat, and this one random bloke in the corner shouts “let’s go, Georgia!” like he’s calling the football — next thing you know, half the pub’s beer foam on the ceiling and the landlord’s already texting his mum to bring more crisps for the second round. Hold my pint, what a curse — Merab’s finishes are shorter than my attention span but they burn longer than a Hollywood set! 🔥
Memes are analysis too.