Written by LineStar contributor, combat sports enthusiast, and practitioner, Chris Guy. Instagram: @therealsethgeko | Twitter: @DadHallOfFamer

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Main Card

Alex Volkanovski (-150) vs. Diego Lopes (+125)

Volk: DK: $8.5k | Lopes: DK:$7.7k

We all believe there is a little bit of Alexander Volkanovski in us. When in the presence of danger, we would laugh in its face like Charlie Murphy and his homies when Prince and his crew came out for the pick-up game dressed in the same shit they had on in the club. When Life’s stakes are the highest and the odds seemingly insurmountable, we would push all our chips into the center of the table, sparing not even one for a rainy day. When presented with a risk and a safe alternative, we would ask ourselves WWVD: What Would Volkanovski Do?   

You just took a hit of that Rainy Day Lady from a four-foot water pipe (bong if you want to be a Richard about it), and now you have the munchies something fierce. Peering into the fridge, you see nothing but condiments with crusted-over lids and a square of month-old lasagna in an old, discolored Tupperware container. You ask yourself, WWVD? The next thing you know, you’re eating that bish cold, white fuzz and all, with mustard and ketchup flakes sprinkled on top.  

It’s Tuesday after the first Monday in September. You spent the weekend avoiding your hamper full of dirty laundry, and now you’re late for work. Your only attire options are all white garments. You ask yourself: WWVD? The next thing everyone in the breakroom sees is you rolling in like Diddy at the ‘97 VMAs dressed like a male bride in all white from head to toe, snapping and popping and kicking up dust on your way to the time clock. “I laced the track, you locked the flow...” 

It’s Fight Night, you’ve already hit on two Twenty Twen-Twen Sleepers, and Derrick Lewis is next up. He’s fighting a fellow striker, but that striker is faster, technically superior, and has a gas tank the size of an Airbus compared to Derrick’s. Yourpockets are smoking as those newly acquired Andy Jacks start burning a hole in your pocket. You ask yourself, WWVD? The next thing you know, you’re sharing a curb with Delonte West, Scott Spizio, and Ryan Leaf, and it’s your turn to hold the cardboard sign. 

What would Volkanovski do? He’d risk it all. That’s why he’s the CEO of Life’s a Risk, Carnal Inc. Fight Islam Makhachev on a week’s notice? Homie twists his handlebar mustache, tips his cap, and says, “I’m your huckleberry.” Fight Max Holloway three times—maybe even four? Fight the little up-and-coming Brahman bull Ilia(ad) Topuria? Yes, and yes, please. Taking risks comes easily to a man born in Australia. A place where taking a shit is a risk. You never know what might crawl out of the pipes and bite you in the ass. What is fighting another human being to a man who averages five near-death experiences per hour? And after all the risks he’s taken, where has it gotten him? A seat once again atop the featherweight Iron Throne.   

Make no mistake; Volk is taking another risk by fighting Diego Lopes a second time. Go back and watch the final ten minutes of that fight. Lopes was coming on strong, like Diddy... never mind. Uncharacteristically, Volk faded late in that fight. Lopes wouldn’t go away, even though he was behind the eight ball technically and speed-wise all night. Volk struggled to defend Lopes’s extended combinations and took heavy damage late. I was one of the few people who thought that fight was up in the air, going to the judges' scorecards—it was much closer than Rogan and company were making it out to be. I walked away from watching that fight thinking, for the first time, Volk looked like he lost a step, like a leg amputee. 

While puffing a post-fight bowl, I also thought Diego Lopes might be better than I thought. I was proven correct when he cracked Jean Silva’s ass like forefingers and Parks & Rec single-ply toilet paper. For the new Paramount viewers who may not know, Diego Lopes is the Goth kid on Southpark with red highlights who flicks his hair and waxes poetic about darkness and pain, all grown up. A quote from Diego’s most recent post-fight interview: “Life is pain. Life is only pain.” Instead of rags to riches, Lopes went from trenchcoats to mink coats. From black eyeliner to black eyes. You also may not know that Lopes’s Grandpappy was a Jiu-Jitsu coral belt. He earned a stripe by finding something to match it. You can only earn a coral belt after having a black belt for thirty years. If I had a coral belt, I’d make an entrance like Ray Lewis coming out of the tunnel everywhere I went. Diego Lopes inherited a black belt like rich kids inherit trust funds. On the mat, Lopes will tie you in a Windsor knot and rock you with a three-piece suit to the Met Gala. You’ll just be hanging there catching gravy stains. When Lopes gets you to the mat, submitting you is a mercy. 

Because he’d rather beat the shit out of you as he did to Silva in the first round. Lopes makes grappling sexy again. Yeah, you can say he’s bringing Sexyback like Justin Timberlake. Yo! Hit that shit! But sometimes Lopes turns his back on his grappling like a lover’s quarrel. Instead, he chooses to stand and bang and let the chips fall where they may. But Lopes’s striking is raw. As raw as Paddy Pimblett’s? Not that raw. Head movement, footwork, creating angles – all that goes out the window when Lopes strikes. He gives his hooks and overhands marching orders, left, right, left. In hopes of beating you to the punch, he unloads extended combinations and creates chaotic exchanges.   

In the rematch, Lopes has to pretend that wrestling/grappling is part of his game plan. He can lure Volk (who rocks a seventy percent takedown defense) into level changes by creating 50/50 exchanges on the feet. Lopes was out-struck more than two to one in the first fight, landing only sixty-three significant strikes compared to Volk’s one hundred fifty-eight. But Lopes had the more impactful strikes, especially late. Against Silva, Lopes landed seventy-five significant strikes in only two rounds of work because he racked up a lot of ground strikes.  

Volkanovski is the (-160) favorite, and Lopes is the (+135) live-ass dog. Lopes has fought once since the first matchup, while Volk has remained on the sidelines since last April. Lopes is only a few small adjustments away from closing the gap with Volk. It was Volk who looked to be in trouble at times in the first fight. I think Lopes is the better finishing threat. Lopes has that Paddy Pimblett indestructible chin, while Volks has cracks like Southern California fault lines. The play for Volk is another decision, while the play for Lopes is a finish. A classic club and sub could be in the cards. 

For the last several cards, the Pick ‘Ems have been almost prophetic. But I couldn’t buy a main event with Bruce Wayne’s bankroll. No takedown attempts, Paddy? None? Your corner was begging you between every round! The main event L streak now sits at three, and this week’s is another coin flip. Maybe it’s the Sativa talking, but I thought Volk was saved by the bell in the first fight. And Lopes leveled up against Jean Silva. Don’t do it. I think I’m gonna do it. Pick against the featherweight GOAT? I think so. Diego Lopes via TKO, round four. Put it on wax.   

Props

Volkanovski: TKO/KO (+350) Sub (+1200) Dec (+150)  

Lopes: TKO/KO (+300) Sub (+600) Dec (+650) 

Winner: Diego Lopes | Method: TKO Rd.4

Dan Hooker (+270) vs. Benoit St. Denis (-340)

Hooker: DK: $7k | St. Denis: DK: $9.2k

Dan Hooker (Escort if you don’t want to be a Richard about it) is back. I don’t even think he left the Octagon after losing a main event to Arman Tsarukyan in late November. Neither did Benoit St. Denis, who fought the week before. BSD wentold-school bully on the Fighting Nerd Mauricio Ruffy. He waited after school for Ruffy, rocking a mullet hawk, puffing on a cancer stick, and sitting on the hood of an ‘85 Trans Am with Billy Idol blaring. Oh, shit! I completely forgot that BSD fought BeneilDariush after Ruffy. That fight was sixteen seconds—no wonder I didn’t remember it. You could fit the entire fight into a GIF. I totally forgot that BSD left Dariush face down, ass up on the canvas, looking like a backup dancer in Juvenile’s “Back That Azz up” video. You already know: hit that shit! Go ahead, Benny. “Who is you playing with? Back that thang up!”   

BSD is better known as PTSD because he’ll burn you like an STD and leave you trippin’ like LSD. Back to that Ruffy ass whoopin': BSD dog walked him. Put a muzzle and a chain on Ruffy and walked him around the cage like Mr. Slave. And don'tforget the first round of the Poirier fight. For five minutes, it looked like he was going to run away with that fight. BSD is single-handedly breaking the stereotype that all Frenchmen are a bunch of Sal Bonpensieroses. BSD turned being French into a special power. BSD is known for his strong top game. It’s like getting a Brazilian wax, getting this guy off you. They have to rip him off quickly like a Band-Aid between rounds—leave you with a landing strip on your chest. Bludgeon and submit: That’s the BSD two-step program. But you can already guess BSD’s major malfunction. 

His striking. When he strikes, the government doesn't even bother infiltrating him with agent provocateurs or hiring any scabs. FDR had better stand up than BSD. If he gets stranded on his feet against Dan Hooker, BSD will meet a similar fate as he did against Dustin Poirier. The striking numbers are nearly even. Both fighters average around five SLpM. But the key will be BSD’s four and a half takedowns per fifteen minutes versus Hooker’s seventy-seven percent takedown defense. BSD has touse pressure to trap Hooker against the cage and level change.  

Dan Hooker has been turning tricks in the UFC for over a decade. Arman Tsarukyan went full Jack the Ripper against Hooker just a few weeks ago. Hooker was Bodhi in Point Break, swimming out to catch a once-in-a-lifetime tsunami wave, knowing he wasn’t coming back. “Come on, compadre!” He was Hector walking out the city gates to meet Achilles in hand-to-hand combat, knowing he was about to get duffed out and dragged at the end of Achilles’s chariot in front of his Betty. But Hooker is still standing here screaming, “Fook the Free World! 3-1-3! 3-1-3!” 

Some things get better with age, like wine and Salma Hayek. Dan Hooker gets better with ink. Homie has more black ink than the first one hundred noineteen pages of a particular set of files. This MF bleeds ink like an octopus. Here comes the first WKO prediction of 2026: Dan Hooker’s back tat vs. Sean Brady’s back tat will headline a Fight Night card. This MF moved to New Zealand because his hands are illegal in Australia. His hands are habit-forming; they’ll sleep you like Benzos. BSD can catch these hands over the counter, no prescription. Hooker fires his hands from chest level like shotguns in action movies. He also has nasty up-the-middle teep kicks and standing knees. Hooker has the Carlos Prates Tiger Knee. And it will be available every time BSD level changes.   

This is a heart vs. heart matchup... Yo! Hit that Phil Collins “Two Hearts!” They’re two hearts, living in just one Octagon. BSD is the (-340) favorite, and Hooker is the (+270) live-ass dog. Those odds seem a little wide for me. Hooker is tough to get down, and he’s not a TLC scrub on the mat. When he gets dominated, it’s usually by the Makhacvhevs and Tsarukyans of the world. BSD isn’t at that level. Hooker has to survive the first round from his back. Then it could look like the Gamrot fight. Hooker gave up five takedowns in that fight and still walked away with a decision dub. The play for BSD is a submission. And the play for Hooker is a decision with strong value in a late TKO/KO. Fook it; I’m going back-to-back like Danny and Mel. Give me the dog. Dan Hooker via decision. On wax.   

Props

BSD: TKO/KO (+330) Sub (+150) Dec (+275) 

Hooker: TKO/KO (+550) Sub (+2200) Dec (+750)

Winner: Dan Hooker | Method: Decision

Rafael Fiziev (+105) vs. Mauricio Ruffy (-120)

Fiziev: DK: $8k | Ruffy: DK:$8.2k

I bet it’s awkward in the lobby and at the continental breakfast when Mauricio Ruffy and BSD cross paths after the intimate ass-whoopin' that BSD handed Ruffy. Ruffy probably gets jealous watching BSD scrapping with other fighters. Matter of fact, hit that Westside Connection “Bow Down!” Bow down when BSD comes to your town. Bow down when BSD is westward bound. Speaking of Ice Cube, hit that “No Vaseline!” BSD borrowed Brandon Royval’s nickname, “Raw Dawg,” that infamous night. But all that is old shit—2025 shit. New year, new Mauricio Ruffy. McGregorzinho is back. Good news/Bad news: The good news is that Ruffy doesn’t have to worry about takedowns against Rafael Fiziev. The bad news is that Fiziev is the scariest striker in the division.   

Ruffy is a street performer version of Conor McGregor on Hollywood Blvd. He shadowboxes on the sidewalk for tourists, collecting tips in his empty gas tank. In fact, like Conor McGregor, Ruffy has no gas tank. He qualifies to use the HOV lane without any passengers, like EVs. He has that January 1st cardio year-round. There were early signs that Ruffy might be a Toyota Frontrunner. Never forget the third round against James Llontop. Who? Ruffy lost the third round to a replacement fighter—a guy from the local Amazon warehouse on his lunch break. Ruffy came out throwing all the flashy shit, looking like Deion Sanders returning punts, high-stepping to the endzone. Then he gassed out, and Llontop all but dominated the third round. Fast forward to the BSD debacle and Ruffy gassing after two minutes. All that spinning shit catches up to you quickly. Make him wrestle, and he will fade – Field of Dreams voice. If you tie up Ruffy a couple of times, he will look like Lizzo after scaling her driveway, hands on knees, gasping desperately for air.   

But don’t get it fooked up like this year’s Super Bowl. For about four to five minutes, Mauricio Ruffy looks like the best striker since... Conor McGregor. The Johnny Cage Shadow Punch is his special weapon. The step-back counter cross while exiting the pocket—the one that McGregor used to KO Jose Aldo. Ruffy also has some nifty Van Damme kicks in his arsenal. His kicking game is so slick that he could play for Arsenal. But can he go three hard rounds against one of the highest-levelstrikers in the game? Ruffy needs an early finish. If this fight goes past the midway point, Ruffy will fade, and Fiziev will run away with it.  

Rafael Fiziev should make the walk rocking a singlet and ear guards just to troll Ruffy. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to test the wrestling waters early. “But Fiziev is a striker!” Muay Thai fighters have a natural ability to wrestle. They're excellent in the clinch and handy with sweeps/trips. If he wants to, Fiziev can put Ruffy on his back. But Fiziev is indeed a striker. And not just any striker. He’s a Muay Thai striker. Homie is the head coach at Tiger Muay Thai in Thailand. To teach Muay Thai in Thailand, you have to be on a different level. Fiziev is the result of feeding Mirko Cro Cop after midnight. His best weapons are his round kicks. Left leg: hospital. Right leg: morgue. And he has the hands to match. When Fiziev lands, people explode like vampires in sunlight. I’m afraid of two things: heights and Rafael Fizievs. I have Fizievaphobia.   

Fiziev has lost three of his last four fights, but two of those came against Justin Gaethje. Fiziev went six rounds with the new Interim Champ. And he’s still standing like Elton John. Yo! Hit that “I’m Still Standing!” Surviving six rounds with Gaethje is like running sprints on the beaches of Normandy like Rocky and Apollo on the morning of June 6, 1944, and living to talk about it. If I went six rounds against Justin Gaethje, I’d sprinkle diamonds on everything I ate for two reasons: 1, becauseit’s the most baller shit you can possibly do to your food. And 2, it makes my dookie twinkle. Fiziev wins this fight as long as he doesn’t get clipped with a spinning wheel kick in the first round. And that’s not far-fetched. Fiziev was knocked out in his UFC debut by a spinning wheel kick in just over a minute.  

The numbers: Fiziev averages just over four and a half SLpM compared to Ruffy’s just below four. But the only numbers that matter are the ones on the clock. Fiziev can push a pace that Ruffy can’t possibly keep up with. Which is why I can’tbelieve that Ruffy is the (-120) favorite, and Fiziev is the (+105) live-ass dog. Get Fiziev at plus-money while you can. Fiziev’s experience and world-class striking dwarfs Ruffy’s. Ruffy is more of a one-punch specialty striker who relies on flashy strikes more than traditional kickboxing. He has to hit Fiziev with something outside of the box that Fiziev doesn’t see coming. The play for Ruffy is an early TKO/KO. And the play for Fiziev is a late TKO/KO. But there’s value in a decision. Am I going to pick all dogs? I did that once last year, and it didn’t work out very well... Fook it! Rafael Fiziev via TKO, round three. Put that shit on wax. 

Props

Fiziev: TKO/KO (+450) Sub (+2500) Dec (+180)

Ruffy: TKO/KO (+250) Sub (+2200) Dec (+250)

Winner: Rafael Fiziev | Method: TKO Rd.3

Tai Tuivasa (+275) vs. Tallison Teixeira (-345)

Tuivasa: DK: $7.1k | Teixeira: DK: $9.1k

I don’t think my heart can take another devastating Tai Tuivasa loss. Don't look now, but Tuivasa has lost five fights in a row. His Sherdog record looks like traffic when trying to leave Las Vegas on a Sunday—all brake lights. Saying Tai is a streaky fighter is an understatement like saying Justin Herbert is overrated. Tuivasa is streakier than my kid’s chonies since he started wiping his own ass. Check it: Tai began his UFC career by winning three fights in a row. Then he lost three in a row. Then he won five in a row. Now he has lost five in a row. You can’t make this shit up. Homie’s wins and losses cancel each other out. He takes ten steps forward and ten steps back. He just stays in the same place, looking around confused like the John Travolta meme. Following the pattern, this fight should be a dub. But Tallison Teixeira is a dangerous striker. This fight has an early finish written all over it like solicitous graffiti written on a rest stop bathroom stall.   

Tuivasa is a classic mosh pit striker. He recorded his first career KO at Woodstock ‘99 during “Break Stuff” while Limp Bizkit was rocking the stage. When Tai lands, people fly across the cage as if they sat on an airbag. They look like Dave Chappelle taking a dump in slow motion. Win or lose, you can always count on Tai Tuivasa going out on his shield. He doesn’t look for the easy way out and save the last overhand in the chamber for himself; he throws it at the next MF who tries to punch him. Tuivasa is at his most dangerous when he’s in the throes of death. He’s like Doc Holiday when he hopped out of his deathbed to put a cap in Johnny Rico’s ass down by the river. When Tai is rocked, he just starts spraying hands indiscriminately like a drive-by.   

Tuivasa’s major malfunction is that he’s more hittable than Meek Mill at an all-white party. He has no defensive instincts. He solely relies on beating his opponent to the death punch. And that will be the case against another heavily defensively flawed fighter in Tallison Teixeira. Teixeira’s only line of defense is his chin. Homie’s chin precedes him. When it comes to defense, Teixeira gets on his Busta Rhymes shit. A dozen right hands: Gimme some more! Leg kicks: Gimme some more! Head kicks: Gimme some more! Teixeira fights are a race to unconsciousness. Sixty seconds to KO. And so far, he has only lost one race. In his previous fight, Derrick Lewis had Teixeira looking like Lebron trying to draw a foul (flopping if you want to be a Richard about it). Ol’ Vlade Divac looking-ass. While Teixeira was eating punches, he looked like the sign language interpreter at a Waka Flocka concert.  

For all the old fight heads, Teixeira reminds me of a Hunger Games Bigfoot Silva. As in, he skipped a few meals. He’s just a skinnier version of Bigfoot Silva, who was a former Pride and UFC fighter. Teixeira is built like a Yeti with Yeti coolers for hands. Head kicks, elbows, knees, crispy, straight punches, Tallison uses all his weapons to turn your TV off, turn your TV off. Hit that Kendrick Lamar! Teixeira did Justin Tafa like Prodigy’s verse on Shook Ones. He rocked Tafa in the face and stabbed his brain with his nose bone. Tafa was left all alone in these streets, cousin. Teixeira is picky about his dubs; he prefers to only win by first-round finish. He is 8-1 for his career with seven TKO/KOs and one sub, all in the first round. In fact, Teixeira has never seen a second round like Cowboys fans born after 1996 have never seen a Super Bowl.   

Teixeira is the (-290) favorite, and Tuivasa is the (+240) live-ish dog. It all depends on how much is left in Tuivasa’s tank. His chin is past its powertrain warranty. But he still throws heavy hands and throws better combinations than Teixeira. Teixeira’s major malfunction is that he stands tall in the pocket, and you could find his chin in a blackout. It never moves off the centerline. Teixera’s defense is a liability. I think this fight is closer than the odds suggest. The play is a finish one way or another. If you want to get silly, take a first-round finish. I’m actually stuck on this one. I’m breaking the dog streak. Give me Tallison Teixeira via TKO, round one. On wax.   

Props

Teixeira: TKO/KO (-225) Sub (+700) Dec (+1100)  

Tuivasa: TKO/KO (350) Sub (+3500) Dec (+1800)

Winner: Tallison Teixeira | Method: TKO Rd.1

Quillan Salkilld (-1050) vs. Jamie Mullarkey (+675)

Salkilld: DK: $9.7k | Mullarkey: DK: $6.5k

Yo! Hit that Cypress Hill “How I Could Just Kill a Man!” Here is something you can’t understand: how Quillan Salkilld could just kill a man! Killed is in Quillan Salkilld’s last name. And he lived up to his surname in his latest performance against Nasrat Haqparast. Salkilld turned Nasrat into Building 7. Nasrat got a recommended eight hours of sleep on his way down to the canvas. Homie looked like a jumper. They brought out the huge air mattress that stuntmen use to break their fall. Call him Nasdaq Haqparast after that crash. But there’s no shame in getting KO’d by Salkilld. So far in the UFC, his fights look like assassinations. They convene an official fraudulent commission to investigate his KOs. They even set up a token patsy to take the fall. Salkilld’s opponents are Left 4 Dead, and we ain’t talking about video games. But all that is old shit—2025 shit. What does Salkilld have in store for us in 2026? 

Salkilld is 3-0 in the UFC with two fatalities. Although he keeps knocking people out, I think Salkilld is more of a wrestler/grappler. Even against Haqparast, Salkilld attempted to relocate the fight to the mat in the opening minutes before resigning to kicking Nasrat in the head. He had issues getting Nasrat to the mat because his level change setups are sloppy. He telegraphs his takedowns and often shoots from too far away. It’s not until his takedowns fail that he resorts to his striking. And although the results speak for themselves, his striking is nothing special like middle children. He has long, straight punches and sneaky kicks. Salkilld set up that Nasrat head kick by attacking low repeatedly. When Nasrat reacted to the low kicks, Salkilld targeted the head.   

Salkilld is 10-1 for his career with four TKO/KOs and three subs. Against “The Little Doodie that Could,” Jamie Mullarkey, Salkilld will have to use his length to stay on the outside. “Bull” Mullarkey is a better pocket striker than Salkilld. Jamie puts together clean boxing combinations, while Salkilld is more of a one-punch striker looking for specific openings.  

Jamie Mullarkey is the Mr. Hanky of MMA. “Hidey Hooooo!” He’s a tough turd to flush. You’ll break the plunger trying to get him out of there. Not even the Mario Bros can flush this guy. I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: Don't mess with kids with blonde eyebrows. They look like they don't have any eyebrows, like some ladies when it rains. As a result, they've been through a lot and have a short fuse. Imagine being asked, “Where are your eyebrows?” every day. They usually have an ant farm and a pet rock growing up and have to wear sunscreen at night. Just leave them alone. Mullarkey’s special power is that he looks like free lunch money. Atomic wedgies were invented for guys that look like Jamie. But don’t get to thinkingshit is sweet. 

Overall, Mullarkey is crafty like Etsy. He has better boxing than you’d expect and timely takedowns. His strength of schedule within the UFC has been brutal. He didn’t get a free path to the Super Bowl with the weakest strength of schedule of all time, like the Patriots. This kid had to earn every win and pick himself up after every loss. He can beat Salkilld in the pocket, extending combinations. And he has some freshman P.E. wrestling with the ringworm scars to prove it. I would dare to say that Mullarkey has better takedowns than Salkilld. Mullarkey can lure Salkilld into level changes by getting inside and instigating 50/50 exchanges.  

Hit that Black Rob, “Whoa!” Like Whoa! Salkilld is the (-950) favorite, and Mullarkey is the (+600) neglected dog. I didn’t think the odds would be that wide. Mullarkey has shared the cage with some killers while Salkilld is still getting his feet wet. But you can’t argue with Salkilld’s recent results. He’s the hot hand, while Mullarkey has lost two of his last three bouts. The play for Salkilld is a TKO/KO, and the play for Mullarkey is a decision. He can win this fight if he can get inside, get Salkilldto the mat, and run some clock from the top position. Just like he did against Michael Johnson. But that’s a long shot. Quillan Salkilld via TKO, round two. Wax on, wax off.  

Props

Salkilld: TKO/KO (-145) Sub (+250) Dec (+600)  

Mullarkey: TKO/KO (+1600) Sub (+3000) Dec (+1400)

Winner: Quillan Salkilld | Method: TKO Rd.2

Prelims

$7k Value Menu

Aaron Tau ($7.9k): Wait until you get a load of this guy. Wait, what? This guy’s face looks redacted. This guy has Sean Brady’s back tat on his face. He looks exactly like you would think a prizefighter would look. You take one look at Aaron Tau and realize The Offspring were right, The Kids Aren’t Alright. Tau fights like a mall Santa version of Merab. Nonstop action. His technical skills are lacking, but he makes up for it with unmitigated aggression and pushing the pace. He will be competing in the finals of the Road to UFC competition, which is similar to the Contender Series for the Far East. I don’t know much about Tau’s opponent, and Tau is a slight (+105) dog, but I know his style is hard to deal with. Even in a loss, this guy can put some significant strikes on the board with a good chance of earning the dub. But if you’re looking for finishes, Tau ain’t it. 

Diego Lopes ($7.7k): In two of his last three fights, Lopes landed well over one hundred significant strikes. Lopes didn’t score any takedowns in the first match against Volkanovski. I think that will change this time around. All he needs is one takedown to finish the fight by submission or TKO. His ground and pound is relentless. One takedown could lead to an avalanche of significant strikes, whether he finishes the fight or not. He is the bigger finishing threat. He can submit Volk or finish him on the feet. Go back and watch the last two rounds of the first fight. Lopes finished strong, and Volk limped across the finish line. Jean Silva is a more dangerous striker than Volk, and Lopes jumped right into the fire against Silva. I expect Lopes to get off to a faster start, and I like the chances of Lopes hitting the one-hundred-strike mark.   

Tai Tuivasa ($7.1k): Tai is always an all-or-nothing option. He’s either going to knock someone out or get knocked out. Get Knockout or Die Trying. Tai could flip the board like a petulant child with one punch. Tallison Teixeira is far from a technically sound defensive fighter. Teixeira is long and powerful, but he lacks evasive footwork and head movement. Tuivasa can find Teixeira’s chin if he can find ways to get inside and unload combinations. Teixeira needs space to operate. Tuivasa’s advantage will be inside the pocket. But if he gets stuck on the outside, it won’t take long for him to earn his sixth straight L.  

 $6k Clearance Rack  

Cody Brundage ($6.9k): There is no bigger headscratcher in the game than Cody Brundage. This guy possesses the uncanny ability to look like a killer and a TLC scrub in the same round. Brundage is a frustrating fighter. He has underrated skills on his feet and on the mat. He can instigate firefights anywhere. Brundage’s fights are usually chaotic and confusing. Nobody has more wins via DQ than Brundage. Even when he gets his ass cracked, he finds a way to walk away with the dub. He literally winsfor losing. He’ll be fighting a raw savage in Cameron Rowston, who is coming in off a first-round TKO in his debut. Brundage can steal this fight if he can put Rowston on his back early. And you can count on Brundage to swing for the fences.  

Twenty-Twen-Twen Sleepers

Rafael Fiziev (+105): This one is easy: Ruffy fades, and Fiziev doesn’t. The better pure striker is Rafael Fiziev. Ruffy is more of a specialty striker who relies on flashy techniques to initiate fight-ending sequences. Fiziev can pick Ruffy apart from the ground up with leg kicks and cleaner hand combinations. Ruffy may be slicker and have better counters, but Fiziev is the more well-rounded, technical striker. Most importantly: Ruffy fades, and Fiziev doesn’t. Also, Fiziev spent six rounds in the cage with Justin Gaethje, and he’s still standing here, screaming, “Fook the Free World!”   

Dan Hooker (+270): Hooker beat a better grappler in Mateusz Gamrot. BSD is undoubtedly a more dangerous grappler, but his takedown game is not on the same level as Gamrot’s. If Hooker can avoid taking early damage on the mat, he can turn the tide on the feet. It will likely be a photo finish on the judges’ scorecards. Never underestimate BSD’s striking—in a bad way. It’s terrible. He’s a danger to himself on the feet. Hooker will dominate the stand-up. The key for Hooker will be attacking BSD’s legs. He can leave BSD stranded on his feet by hobbling him early.   

Diego Lopes (+125): Lopes ran out of time in the first fight. If he can get out to a faster start, he can close the gap. But this pick is more about Volkanovski. For the first time, it looked to me like Volk had lost a step. And when he couldn’t find it, he just ordered a new one from Amazon. He just looked a tad slow to me. His combinations weren’t poppin' like they usually do. And Volk’s trademark is finishing strong. It was Lopes who finished strong in the first fight. I thought the first fight was closer than the foregone conclusion that Rogan and the crew made it sound like. I was actually nervous for Volk. Also, Volk hasn’t fought since last April, and Lopes is coming in off a huge win against Jean Silva.  

Pick ‘Em

Junior Tafa (+205) vs. Billy Elekana (-245) 

 Winner: Billy Elekana 

Method: Decision 

Cameron Rowston (-350) vs. Cody Brundage (+275)  

 Winner: Cameron Rowston 

Method: TKO Rd.3 

Jacob Malkoun (-150) vs. Torrez Finney (+130)  

 Winner: Jacob Malkoun 

Method: Decision 

Jonathan Micallef (-130) vs. Oban Elliott (+110)  

 Winner: Jonathan Micallef 

Method: Decision 

Kaan Ofli (+175) vs. Zha Yi (-210)   

 Winner: Zha Yi 

Method: Decision 

Sang Wook Kim (+150) vs. Dom Mar Fan (-170)   

 Winner: Sand Wook Kim 

Method: Decision 

Keiichiro Nakamura (+110) vs. Sebastian Szalay (-130)   

 Winner: Keiichiro Nakamura 

Method: Decision 

Rangbo Sulang (-250) vs. Lawrence Lui (+210)   

 Winner: Rangbo Sulang  

Method: Decision 

Aaron Tau (-250) vs. Namsrai Batbayar(+210)   

 Winner: Namsrai Batbayar 

Method: Decision 

Thanks for reading LineStar Weekly Knockout! We'll be back next Thursday with another one. Until then, good luck and support your local MMA Gym.

About Me

My name is Chris Guy, and I’m an avid combat sports enthusiast and practitioner. I’ve been a fan of MMA since the early 2000s when Limewire was still around, and I downloaded Bas Rutten’s Big Book of Combat. In 2004, I started training Muay Thai at City Boxing in San Diego, CA. I competed as an amateur for many years, and I've also dabbled in Jiu-Jitsu. I follow many different disciplines, such as Combat Ji-Jitsu, Muay Thai, Glory Kickboxing, Boxing, and MMA.

I’m equally as enthusiastic about the craft of writing, and in addition to writing about combat sports, I also write short fiction and music. I hope to bring unique prose to sports writing, and along the way, encourage people to not only become Martial Arts fans but to also become Martial Artists themselves.

In the future, you may see me refer to the Thunderdome; it's an ode to the old Mad Max movie and refers to the world-class training facility I built in my one-car garage. It's complete with throw dummies, wrestling mats, heavy bags, and six months' worth of Chef Boyardee cans from when I thought the world was going to end back in March.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you don’t, the Thunderdome has an open door policy.