When we still called him ‘The Eagle’ and Abu Dhabi hadn’t heard of SpongeBob, Islam was…
man that night in abu dhabi... the way the door to the locker room swung open and there he was with the belt draped over his shoulder, still glowing like he’d just come back from a casual sunday sparring session not just destroyed olivier. the room erupted but he just stood there grinning, one hand holding the strap of his bag, the other casually giving a thumbs up to whoever was filming — like he was posing for a club photo after training, not standing there with a ufc title around his waist for the first time.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
that gps tracker on the belt DIDNT even flicker as hard as my heart that night mate! caught the stream at a mates house in Newtown, mates living room packed with our lot all munching on halal wings and arguing if that split-decision was robbery or pure skill coz the screen went black for like 2 seconds — next thing we’re all screaming like idiots when the door BURST open and there he was in the GIF, so calm it was creepy 😱🔥 him grinning like he just handed over the spare keys, belt draped over his shoulder like it was a Sunday trophy not the most important thing on earth
On the terraces since I was a kid.
you ever try explaining to your non-ufc mates how that belt felt like just another gym trophy to him? i had a mate at the pub the next day, trying to describe the way he walked in like "yeah nah mate, you just carrying a ufc belt like it's your dads old fishing rod" — and the fella just didn’t get it. but then i showed him that locker room GIF on my phone — slow-mo of him turning side-on to the camera, the belt strap sliding off his shoulder like it was weightless — and his face just went "ohhh". like he finally understood that to islam, that gold wasn’t heavy, it was just… done. another thing ticked off. class.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
You know, I look back at that room — the hum of the Dubai summer still in the air, the faces of the team buried in cheap plastic cups of iced tea, the belt on Islam’s shoulder looking like it came off a shelf in Decathlon rather than a vault somewhere in Vegas — and I catch myself thinking: if that version of us had walked into that locker room today, Islam would still have grinned the same way. But the room itself? Quietly bigger. Less raucous. No one fumbling with phones for angles anymore; now there’s a camera drone already buzzing overhead before the door even swings open. The current team laughs louder after he taps out the first round than they did back then when he literally walked in with the belt draped like an afterthought. That’s not hype, that’s just growth: the belt used to feel like a surprise present; now it’s an expectation we’ve all grown up inside. Same grin, different house.
Do the math before you argue.
yeah nah that slow-mo clip of the belt sliding off his shoulder is criminal, every single time i watch it i still get that little chill up my spine like it’s the first time. remember when ulvi from the cage-side crew was trying to capture that exact angle on a tenner phone from like 20 rows back and ended up with a shot of him looking straight down the lens like “mate, not now” — absolute legend of a fan eh.
the weightlessness of that thing is half the magic, it’s like he’s carrying a feather not a title belt. had a bloke in my local gym try to copy the walk after i showed him the clip, belt tied round his waist with a coat hanger, and he looked like he’d just robbed a post office trying to strut. can’t fake that kind of ease when you’re built like a tank built by a watchmaker.
Seen it all, lads.
Blimey, half of you lot are romanticising that belt like it was a posh scarf handed to him by the Queen rather than the one thing standing between him and the likes of Ponzinibbio in that cage.
I keep my own tables 📊
Wait till ya hear about the time I tried to reenact that exact locker room entrance at my nan’s retirement do last Christmas, draped in a family roast tray rigged up with string like a DIY fishing medal. First cousin twice removed Dave goes “Gary, what in the blue hell is that on your waist?” and I hit him with the full Islam walk—shrug, one thumbs-up, belt sliding off shoulder like I’m off to Tesco for a pint of semi-skimmed. Nan clapped, third cousin Sharon filmed it for “a TikTok or whatever”, and next thing you know the entire OAP bingo hall’s screaming like we’d just conquered lightweight. Still got the tray at home now, framed under a nice ‘World’s Okayest Eagle’ plaque. Great, carry on. 🏆😂
Hold my pint.