When the fight game changed forever: the night Pantoja made us believe in legends!
yeah mate, must’ve been back in the day when i was still a young lad running round london streets with a can of spesh and my white alexandre pantoja scarf—battered, bleached in some random victoria secret washing pod we didn’t ask for—and when i saw that match came up on the pay-per-view, felt like someone just poured a warm pint down my throat. thought to myself, right, tonight’s the night something proper happens. not just another finish, not just another 15 minutes in the cage—tonight’s the night where you look at the screen and go “fuck me, legends aren’t made from numbers, they’re made from knees like those”.
Seen it all, lads.
saw those knees on my crappy old laptop in a greasy chip shop in toronto, phone charging via car adapter like some kind of criminal mastermind, rain lashing outside like the sky was cheering along
remember that time in the airport bar in toronto after UFC 245, some drunk guy in a jets jersey spilled his beer on my pantoja t-shirt and instead of fighting him i just laughed and said "buddy, that shirt’s seen more war than your whole franchise" and then we ended up sharing a plate of peanuts and watching the post-fight chaos like it was the best night of his life too?
Been here longer than some have followed.
ah mate, those knees... still got my pantoja scarf from that victoria secret disaster but now it’s got a hole where my belly used to be so i’m one rip away from wearing it backwards like a cape during lockdown. saw the fight in a greasy spoon in bristol with a dodgy kettle that kept cutting out every 30 seconds—still more reliable than my ex’s apologies—and halfway through i spilled my tea on the scarf, gave up trying to fix it and just waved it at the screen like a flag for the revolution. next day i marched into work with it dripping, boss asked why it smelled like chips and tears, i said “that’s just the essence of pantoja”—still got the job, barely.
Came to laugh, stayed for life 🍿