Francis Ngannou is a very large, powerful man who punches very, very hard. We’ve known this all along. In 2017, in fact, he set the record for the hardest punch ever recorded by the UFC Performance Institute. His punch was measured at a similar horse power to a small family sedan driving full speed: the proverbial Ford Escort.
That prodigious punching power was enough to make Ngannou, who worked in a Cameroonian sand mine from the age of 10 and who survived an incredibly harrowing journey to emigrate to France and begin training as a boxer, into a combat sports star. It was enough to tear through the ranks of the UFC heavyweight division. But as we found out on Jan. 20, 2018, it wasn’t enough to make him a world champion.
On that night in Boston, Stipe Miocic, the greatest heavyweight in UFC history, became the first man to take Ngannou’s haymakers on the chin and keep going. In so doing, he exposed Ngannou’s weaknesses: Ngannou wore himself out and became a sitting duck for Miocic’s wrestling attack, finding himself unable to defend the champion’s takedowns. He lost a lopsided unanimous decision, failing to deliver on a considerable amount of hype.
Ngannou was broken. He could have faded away and been another flash in the pan – instead, he came back, seemingly stronger than ever. But heading into his highly anticipated rematch with Miocic on Saturday, the major questions about his game hadn’t been answered. Certainly, Ngannou punched as hard as ever. But in five fights since his defeat to Miocic – one decision loss to Derrick Lewis where he was more or less inactive for three rounds, and four straight first round KOs that lasted about a minute or less – we were no closer to seeing whether Ngannou could overcome the hurdles he stumbled on three years ago.
The bell rang on Saturday night. And early in the first round, the world champion shot for a takedown, the kind that put Ngannou on his back half a dozen times in their first encounter. Ngannou defended it brilliantly, pivoted, and dragged Miocic to the ground for a takedown of his own. That sequence, and the flurry of cinderblock punches that followed, indicated that this time around would be something much, much different.
Miocic survived the flurry, but from that point on, he was screwed – even if he didn’t know it yet. Ngannou paced himself the rest of the round after realizing the knockout wasn’t immediately, taking great pains to not burn too much energy – another major improvement from their first fight. Ngannou’s patience paid off in the second round.
Because, at the end of the day, Francis Ngannou hits like a Ford Escort. And you’re only going to survive so many shots before it’s time for you to go.
All along, we should have known. The key lies in the details of Ngannou’s life story: the journeys across borders, the truck rides across the Sahara Desert, surviving in the Moroccan forest, the six unsuccessful attempts to cross into Spain, sleeping in an underground parking lot in France. You don’t go to those lengths to chase a dream without having a superhuman level of resolve, commitment and perseverance. And you don’t go to those lengths to chase a dream, and then not do everything you can to overcome your limitations.
Francis Ngannou learned two key lessons from his first fight with Miocic: 1. Learn how to defend a takedown, and 2. Pace yourself. He did both of those things expertly. That opened the way to make the fight his. Ngannou’s calling card, and his biggest key to victory, is his fists. And even Stipe Miocic, unimpeachable legend that he is, could not withstand the full force of Ngannou’s power.
Even if it ended with another defeat to Miocic, Ngannou’s run over the last two years would have been the stuff of legend. Instead, it ended in the birth of a new myth. Ngannou’s power, and physical prowess, are the stuff that people tell tall tales about. And decades from now, who knows exactly how people will talk about Francis Ngannou – but for right now, this version of Ngannou looks just about unbeatable.
Against fighters like Jairzinho Rozenstruik, Ngannou proved he can throw all caution to the wind, run at his opponent windmilling his arms, and still knock them cold. But when Ngannou is fighting a patient, considered and technical fight, executing a smart gameplan, defending takedowns and letting his fists do the talking? How on Earth do you beat that guy? He’s like something out of a comic book: to paraphrase Robert Whittaker, like if the Hulk learned how to grapple.
Ngannou has already carved a bloody swath through the elite of the heavyweight division. Now, in emphatic fashion, he has conquered the world champion who handed him his greatest defeat. In doing so, he proved that the biggest holes in his game are not there anymore. And now, there’s nothing standing in Francis Ngannou’s way on the road to total world domination.
Hey, Jon Jones: be careful what you wish for.
The Big Fight 