It’s hard to believe that seven years have come and gone since Israel Adesanya beat Rob Wilkinson at UFC 221 in Perth. The fact is, Izzy started his UFC journey late. He was 28 years old when he hiked a leg in that debut, a gesture meant to mark the cage like a roving dog to announce his arrival. I still remember Uncrowned’s own Ariel Helwani telling the story that the first time he texted Adesanya to ask him to come onto his show, the response Izzy shot back was: “I’ve been expecting you.”
Of course, Adesanya won that first fight and eight more on an escalating scale to emerge as one of the greatest middleweights of all time. He earned that distinction, in part, by beating the consensus GOAT Anderson Silva, in what was a quiet transfer of generational vibe and mojo.
And in part by more loudly knocking out his rival Robert Whittaker. By surviving Kelvin Gastelum, in a fight he said — and showed — he was prepared to die in. By stacking names like Yoel Romero, Paulo Costa and Jared Cannonier. By dragging a ghost of his past, Alex Pereira, into the mix for the sole purpose of destroying his legacy. Raw, ribald and a blade of lean muscle, never altering. If your instinct in retrospect is to say that any of these guys were “washed,” remember, it was Adesanya who washed them.
We talk about “meteoric” rises in the MMA, but no meteor ever invited so much deadly atmosphere to try to break it apart as he streaked into middleweight GOAT conversation. What he’s been doing was never sustainable. When Adesanya steps in to face Nassourdine Imavov in Saudi Arabia on Saturday, it will be for the 18th time in less than seven years. That’s 2.6 fights per year, which might not seem like a lot until you realize a dozen of those were magnified title fights. With five title defenses, and a history-seeking foray up to light heavyweight to see about dual crowns. With media obligations and world tours stacked in between, and nearly a year off between his losses to Sean Strickland and Dricus Du Plessis.
Adesanya has been revving in the red since it began. One time, when Adesanya was in New York City for a fight, I asked him if he was aware of having what UFC CEO Dana White likes to call the “it” factor.
“Yes, it’s something you know,” he said. “You know when you have that. A lot of guys just shy away from it. A lot of guys just can’t handle the spotlight and the pressure, so they shy away from it, like, ‘Oh, I don’t want to be in it.’ That’s never me.
“I knew what was happening, and I knew how they were looking at me. It wasn’t about them, it was about me. I had ‘it.’ I’ve envisioned it, and it’s just another day in the office now. It’s regular. All the people I’ve seen, Ronda [Rousey], Conor [McGregor], Jon Jones, Anderson Silva, Chael Sonnen, they do this kind of sh*t for years, and I’ve always put myself in that position.”
Two days later, he knocked out Derek Brunson at Madison Square Garden. “It” was in evidence. “It” wasn’t nearly done, either.
I still remember the first time Helwani texted Adesanya to ask him to come onto his show, the response Izzy shot back: “I’ve been expecting you.”
Saturday’s fight feels too quiet. It feels out of harmony with Izzy’s past ceremonies, odd in its pedestrian approach. The respect is so mutual as to become jarring. Zero tension. No taut neck muscles. No dark howls of pending wars. Imavov doesn’t have charisma like Adesanya, and nothing about him screams star, but what he has is a Dagestan bloodline, heavy hands, and a cold, unromantic resolve. He wants to take whatever’s left of Adesanya and use it as a springboard, which is the name of the game. Adesanya did it to Silva. There’s always somebody coming to roll the credits on your career, and in this case it’s a Frenchman with plenty of Caspian Sea salt in his blood.
Adesanya as litmus test? Adesanya as gatekeeper? Adesanya as revived contender?
Nothing quite fits because we aren’t sure yet, and we never have been entirely with Izzy. He is 35 years old and has been through many wars in the kickboxing and boxing rings, long before he even got to MMA. He didn’t exactly carry an angel on his shoulder, either. We’ve seen Izzy’s demons, which he keeps close as necessary companions through this MMA journey.
We remember the drunk driving incident, which obscured the loss of his title to Strickland. The time he got popped for carrying brass knuckles at JFK. The time he said he’d rape Kevin Holland, and the time he inexplicably tweeted out a picture of Adolph Hitler dancing, as a comparison to how he’d walk out for his fight with du Plessis. Fighting plumbs depths in mysterious ways, and nobody articulated that more willingly than Izzy.
Through it all, he’s always told the truth in fighting. His truth.
If Saturday is where the writing on the wall becomes more legible that Adesanya’s career is winding down, it won’t change what’s already been documented. His run is already part of the firmament in MMA lore. The UFC’s biggest star of today, Alex Pereira, told Uncrowned that he might not be here if it were not for Adesanya. “Bobby Knuckles” was already on the scene, but the scene didn’t become the scene until Adesanya arrived. That’s when the circus made him a dangerous attraction to be tamed. Adesanya, “The Last Stylebender,” gave meaning to the war mentality.
And he did it all in less than seven years, which — with 18 fights, five title defenses, and multiple major rivalries — brings to mind that famous Edna St. Vincent Millay poem.
“My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night — but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, it gives a lovely light.”
