It’s a strange feeling when the guy who just lost his third and probably final UFC title shot ends up walking away at the end of the night looking like a hero. Strange, but not unpleasant.
The standing record will show that on June 1, 2024, Dustin Poirier lost by fifth-round submission to 155-pound champion Islam Makhachev. It will also show that this was Poirier’s third loss in his last five fights, which doesn’t look good. But there is so much you miss when you just look at the facts and figures. In the case of UFC 302’s main fight – and perhaps even Poirier’s entire career – you miss what makes people watch pro fights in the first place.
In a world based solely on pure skill, Poirier probably never should have heard the words “Round 5” against Makhachev. The champion was the fastest, strongest and best in the world on the mat. If you had entered midway through the first round and seen him glued to Poirier’s back two minutes later, having easily completed his first takedown, you probably would have assumed it would be a quick night. That’s a classic miscalculation, failing to take that dog into account, like the one Poirier has in him.
The way Poirier went from that dismal first round to a competitive and bloody final round wasn’t pure endurance, though it wasn’t no hardness too. Many of them were things you can only earn the hard way, through a life spent on the business side of that whole chain.
As the fight progressed, you could see Poirier figuring out how he should fight Makhachev. He stayed off the wall (most of the time). He stopped the takedowns (again, for the most part). When he was knocked down, he got up again. He dragged Makhachev through the crucible that comes with mixing martial arts, then found openings for attack through the fog of fatigue.
It was not enough. Makhachev also has a lot of that same toughness. He also has a wrestling and submission game that can work on autopilot when he needs it most. His final takedown was beautiful, and just to add a cruel irony to it, he immediately transitioned to the guillotine – that siren call that Poirier managed to resist this time – and used it to transition into the fight’s finale. ‘arce strangle.
Of course it had to end like this. So close but so far. The story of Poirier’s career, in a way. But his story is also about finding triumph even in failure. Poirier didn’t become so beloved in this sport by winning all the time. He did this by giving his all, in a way that felt raw, real and completely sincere. He was never afraid to try and fail and then try and fail again.
This is the thing that sticks in people’s memories – and for much longer than the official record numbers.
Some other thoughts on UFC 302…
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Sean Strickland had another fight with Sean Strickland. In other words, he promised us a “bloodbath” and then carefully pointed the way to a split decision victory over Paulo Costa in the co-main event. You can’t blame him too much. Now we should know what to expect. It has a certain style and it mostly works. It’s just not that fun, which is probably why he keeps promising bloodbaths to keep our attention.
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It’s hard to complain about an early stoppage when you’re down to one functional arm. That was the situation Michal Oleksiejczuk found himself in after being armbarred by Kevin Holland until his elbow bent in directions it shouldn’t have gone. Oleksiejczuk wasn’t happy with Herb Dean’s decision to cancel, but he also didn’t seem able to use his arm during any of his post-fight rants. When you gesture indignantly with one arm while the other falls to your side like an empty sleeve, it’s a good sign that the referee was right.
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Why not make Jailton Almeida’s wish come true and send him to Paris to fight Ciryl Gane? It’s the best idea I’ve ever heard for both of them, and it came from Almeida’s lips right after he had easily run over Alexander Romanov. I can’t think of a better way to find out if Gane has improved his ground game while also giving Almeida some work worthy of his abilities.
