UFC 300 & My Own “Unrivaled Greatness”

For me, UFC 300 is a milestone for both capacities in which I interact with the world of Martial Arts.

Photo by Anastase Maragos on Unsplash

I started watching MMA in 2018, in the build-up to UFC 229, which ended up becoming the highest selling event in MMA History. Not a bad place to start, right? The term “casual” has become something of a pejorative in the MMA community, and an obnoxious one at that, but the term accurately describes what I was at the time. My attention was more focused on the “Big 4” American sports, and I would only ever hear about MMA when the monthly PPV’s rolled around.

UFC 229 featured a grudge-match between then UFC lightweight champion Khabib Nurmagomedov and former champ Conor McGregor (who also happens to be the biggest star ever seen in MMA). McGregor had vacated his championship to pursue a lucrative boxing match with Floyd Mayweather, and UFC 229 marked his return to the octagon after nearly two years. For reasons not worth getting in to, the build-up was bitterly vitriolic and personal. Nurmagomedov, usually the picture of stoicism and humility, was as emotional and animated as the world had ever seen him. This is when I started to pay closer attention to MMA.

MMA, and fighting in general, has always enjoyed being able to create greater WWE-style “storylines” than other sports. Personalities and backstories amplified on the world’s biggest stage makes it much easier for casual viewers to get emotionally invested in events, and thus more likely to pay for them. Take Muhammad Ali for example. Thinking back to his illustrious boxing career, it’s clear how effective storytelling played a significant role in shaping his legacy. Ali wasn’t just a boxer, he was a charismatic showman that knew how to captivate audiences both inside and outside the ring. His poetic trash talk, brazen political stances, and unforgettable bouts against rivals like Joe Frazier and George Foreman transcended the sport, embedding his legacy directly into American culture. Today, fighters across boxing and MMA continue to utilize this blueprint for success. Drawing on their unique personalities, rivalries, and personal journeys to build anticipation and drama around their matches. Martial arts competitions have ceased being solely physical affairs, but narrative events that fans are eager to follow and invest in.

As I observed the intense rivalry between Khabib and Conor, I realized just how high the stakes were, making “conflicts” in other sports, like football, seem superficial in comparison. As a life long Steelers fan, I’ve experienced my share of high-stakes competition, especially against our arch-rivals, the Baltimore Ravens. However, even in these heated matchups, the emotional toll of defeat is offset by the promise of future redemption, either later in the same season or the next. This sense of persistent rivalry and eventual redemption contrasts sharply with the atmosphere around UFC 229, where there was a very compelling feeling that for the loser of the main event, life would change forever. This was largely the result of McGregor turning the bout into a cultural affair, asserting he was fighting for the honor and pride of his nation and calling on his Irish faithful to support him in the pre-fight festivities.

In 2018 Khabib wasn’t yet the global superstar he is today, but intelligently embraced his role as the “villain” of the contest. Throughout fight week, he acknowledged and thanked the Irish fans for their fervent support and the hype they brought to the event. Yet, he confidently promised them a disappointing outcome, asserting they would leave broken-hearted after the fight on Saturday. Khabib consistently attributed his impending victory to the will of God, introducing a yet another cultural dimension to the contest. I’m not a godly man, but maybe Nurmagomedov was right. The Russian dominated the contest with his signature “Ground and Pound” style, breaking the Irishman’s will before forcing him into submission with a rear naked chokehold. It was clear that the emotions of fight week had finally gotten to Khabib, as he then made the reckless decision to attack one of McGregor’s cornermen, leading to one of the most iconic photographs in MMA history.

After the event had concluded, I realized that I had never been so invested in a sporting competition before. And I haven’t missed an event since.

UFC 300 (April 13th, 2024), as evidenced by the name, is the 300th pay-per-view event in the company’s history. Its milestone nature stems largely from the battle to see MMA legitimized as a sport, akin to boxing. When it first was introduced, MMA was seen as savage, and a bastardization of the “gentlemanly” art of boxing. Considering boxing’s history, why it ever earned that connotation is beyond me, but that’s besides the point. Point-in-blank, most people didn’t think MMA as a sport would make it this far, much less become the global powerhouse it is today. But the company persevered, and the UFC has been putting on quality shows for close to 30 years now. Interestingly, it stands in stark contrast to UFC 229. By most objective measures, it is a far more interesting card, with over 10% of all UFC champions in history featured. But, it lacks the emotional allure I described above.

However, it does feel like the culmination of my journey as a fan of the sport. I’ve witnessed the fighters on this card at every stage of their careers—from their debuts to their ascents to stardom, their falls from grace, triumphant victories, crushing defeats, retirements, and comebacks. Their paths have been varied and filled with drama, emotion, and the raw unpredictability that defines MMA. And all these narratives converge at UFC 300, making it not just the most important event in UFC history, but also a deeply personal culmination of the countless hours I’ve invested in following these athletes’ journeys.

With all the time I’ve spent watching MMA, it was only a matter of time until I started to participate as well. It’s been about 3 years to the date since I started training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Wrestling, some of the most important aspects of MMA. I’ve ventured into Muay Thai as well, but confined mostly to pad and bag work. I’m a full time college student, and need my brain intact. My entry into Jiu-Jitsu was anything but ordinary, kicking off in a multi-purpose room at my uni, and it’s since catapulted me across the globe, from the laid-back vibes of California to the historic hustle of London. I’ve been told that I’ve progressed very quickly for someone who started essentially from scratch, without any prior wrestling or judo experience. But, for humility’s sake I won’t corroborate any of that here. Most people will tell you the sport has made them tougher, and more resilient, but for me, it’s done the opposite. Starting from scratch in any discipline, especially one as demanding as Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, requires acknowledging and embracing one’s vulnerability. This openness is a strength, not a weakness. It allows for true learning and growth, showing that vulnerability is the doorway to developing both skill and character.

Before stepping onto the mats, my version of confidence was essentially an act, designed to help me fit into the bustling social scene of university life. But, this just wasn’t me. Jiu-Jitsu became the unexpected catalyst that prompted a broader journey of self-discovery and introspection. My semester abroad in London marked a pivotal moment in this process. Immersed in a new culture and stripped of my usual social crutches, I found myself leaning into a quieter, more genuine form of confidence. This wasn’t the loud, mostly performative bravado I had hidden behind, but a calm, collected presence that drew people in, fostering deeper, more meaningful connections.

The principles of Jiu-Jitsu: leveraging strength, embracing vulnerability, and maintaining balance have translated seamlessly into personal growth. I began to appreciate the strength in humility, the power in knowing when to yield, and the importance of being authentically myself. The mats have now become a space where victories and defeats hold equal value, each one a lesson toward personal betterment. As I navigate the complexities of college life, both on and off the mats, I’ve found that the most profound victories are often the quietest ones, the battles won within. True confidence isn’t about fitting into a mold but breaking free from it, embracing the unique blend of strengths and weaknesses that make us who we are. And for that, I have only my beloved pajama wrestling to thank.

April 13th also marks the date of what I consider my first genuine Jiu Jitsu competition. Previously, I competed in London during my study abroad semester, but various factors compromised my performance. While I’m not one for excuses and fully take responsibility, I think it’s fair to acknowledge that I wasn’t at my peak then. My training hadn’t been as rigorous as necessary, and I found myself in a weight class that wasn’t a true fit for me. Now, I see an opportunity to reset and kickstart my competitive career on solid ground. I’ve dedicated myself to relentless training for this moment, tapering off as the competition draws near, and have adjusted my weight to align with my natural weight class more closely. If there was ever a pivotal moment for me, it’s right now.

Looking back on my journey with martial arts both as a passionate spectator and an active participant, it’s evident that my experiences are closely intertwined with the evolution of the sport itself. The thrill and excitement of UFC 229 which initially captured my attention opened doors to a realm where physical strength and personal stories intertwine. This event marked the start of my exploration into the intricacies of MMA, leading me to UFC 300, a milestone event that epitomizes the mantra of “Unrivaled Greatness.”

But what does this mean, exactly? On the surface level, it is merely a celebration of athletic achievement, reflected in the pursuit of titles and championships within the sport. But upon reflecting on my own journey in martial arts, I’ve come to appreciate the deeper significance of this mantra, almost as a guiding principle for life itself. “Unrivaled Greatness” speaks to the action of striving beyond the ordinary, pushing the limits of what we believe is possible. In the context of MMA, it’s seen in the relentless pursuit of excellence by fighters, each with their unique stories of hardship, perseverance, and triumph. Personally, however, it’s about setting our own standards, pursuing our passions with tenacity, and living authentically. It compels us to look inward, to identify our unique strengths and vulnerabilities, and what makes you, you. It’s about recognizing that our greatest competition is not with others, but with the limitations we place on ourselves.

In essence, “Unrivaled Greatness” is not just about what we achieve, but how we achieve it. It’s a reminder that the journey towards excellence is ongoing, filled with constant learning, growth, and the courage to face our fears. Greatness is more of a journey than destination, more of an ideal for us to strive towards, rather than a tangible goal we can reach. This can be seen in the world of Jiu-Jitsu, where even black-belt level practitioners continue to chase the essence of greatness each day, as true success eludes the confines of mere symbols and accolades. By embracing this philosophy, we can apply the lessons learned from the world of MMA to our own lives, crafting a legacy of personal greatness that is truly unrivaled.