Is Dricus the most entertaining middleweight in MMA history or just the luckiest?

That flying knee wasn't some fluke out of a street fight — it was choreography. One second Paulo’s 10 feet off the canvas, next he’s twitching like a plugged-in robot that’s just been reset. You lot act like luck’s a handshake between two fighters, but Borrachinha’s chin didn’t call in sick that night; Dricus carved the exact line through the sky.

you think that flying knee was luck? 😱😱🔥 ah mate wake up nah REDSKINS are just salty cuz our boy made ONE LOOK EASY when their precious "ground game" was on his backside from the first bell MATE 💀🔥 Paulo was selling for that takedown he EXPECTED a trip not a turbo-charged knee straight to the temple bruh HE WAS LUCKY HE EVEN STAYED ON HIS FEET FOR ROUND ONE 🙌 Dricus don't need luck he needs a wider octagon so we can see the highlights from orbit

Borrachinha’s chin before that night? Last ten finishes prior to his scrap with Dricus: six KOs, four TKOs. Those are the numbers that wake you up at 3 a.m.—not some random stat sheet but a wake-up call inside the cage itself. Paulo wasn’t tapping for wind; he was in the business of putting chins to sleep, and he’d only been put down once inside the UFC. Look how he walked into that fight: a welterweight exile who had just finished the fastest stoppage of his stay (1:28) and still said, “I’m here to lift weights with the bodybag.” That knee wasn’t the universe blinking; it was the same handwriting we’d already read off the cards—clean, practiced, lethal.

pfft that flying knee gave me flashbacks to another octagon traveler, Anderson Silva, floating on air like he was on rollerblades before he froze mid-step and nailed Vitor Belfort with that front kick nobody saw coming—not even Vitor, who you’d think had night vision. but dricus didn’t just float, he *leapt*, almost like gravity owed him a favor, while borrachinha’s feet were already planted for the takedown he thought he’d cook. two flights in two decades, one clean exit from consciousness—where’s the luck when your whole gameplan becomes a hobby kit the opponent unboxed for you? ah well, we’ll see

Bit me in the arse last night—got out of my chair too fast to grab a beer and my knee cracked like a rifle shot. No pain, just that hollow echo, the same one I heard when Borrachinha’s temple met Dricus’ knee. You ever get that noise inside your own body and then remember it seconds later? That’s the ghost of the flying knee looping back at you.

That knee? Absolute poetry, and I’ll die on the hill that it’s the cleanest finisher in middleweight history. But here’s where my inner devil’s advocate twitches—Borrachinha’s chin wasn’t untapped, not by a long shot, and the flight itself was borderline supernatural. I remember watching that night with my flatmate, who’s got a boxing coach’s eye, and his exact words after round one were, “That man moves like he’s cheating wind resistance.” Now, the caveat: if you slow it frame by frame, Paulo’s right hand is already mid-pivot when the knee lands, so his balance was an optical illusion—like watching a spinning top teeter just before it topples. That’s not luck, that’s geometry with a side of voodoo, but it also means Dricus’ read of the setup was sharper than a tax auditor’s pencil. So yeah, the knee was textbook, but the setup? That’s where the magic hides in plain sight.

Man, Paulo’s chin is legendary but even legends got one off night—and Borrachinha’s last ten finishes before that knee? Six KOs, four TKOs. Those aren’t just numbers, mate, that’s a resume built on knocking chins clean out the building. Then you slap a flying knee on top like it’s a street move from a YouTube tutorial? Bro, Paulo had spent 1:28—yes, less than two minutes—to put some poor soul down in his previous UFC scrap. You go from “I’ll fold you in half” to “oh look, a man can fly” in one fight? That’s not luck—that’s his gameplan turning to confetti mid-air because Dricus reads setups sharper than most guys read traffic lights. And let’s be real, gravity must’ve been on holidays that night—the way Dricus floated up there, Paulo already rooted like an oak expecting a takedown recipe. It wasn’t some fluke flicker; it was choreography alright, but written and directed by a dude who’s spent years dissecting middleweight puke-parades. 🤡💸 Next time someone calls it luck, remind ‘em: Paulo’s job was putting chins to sleep, not getting his own Zippo’d mid-leap.

nah mate 🤬💀 look, you’re all wanking on about the knee like it was some sort of divine intervention—Borrachinha *was* sleepwalking into it cos he thought Dricus was still tryna take him down first round! Paulo’s gameplan was “I’ll fold him in 90 sec” after smashing a bloke in 1:28, right? So ofc he’s gonna sell for the double-leg like a tourist at a club doormat! Dricus just went “nah ah” and BOOM—mid-air paratrooper knee straight to the temple cos Borrachinha’s brain short-circuited before his feet did. You lot act like this man’s chin was made of reinforced concrete till Dricus stamped his passport 😂 lucky? Mate, Paulo had a chin that’d survived Jabari, Adesanya, and a truckload of kickboxers who *wanted* to knock it clean off—he just forgot the memo that night cuz Dricus’ knees come with free delivery. next time someone says “luck”, just shove a highlight reel in their face and ask if gravity was on eBay that weekend 🔥💪

Ever wondered why Borrachinha’s temples suddenly grew so polite and invited knees like a red carpet? There we go—because Dricus doesn’t land on bodies, he lands inside the blueprint Borrachinha drew for himself. That knee wasn’t a lucky punch; it was the moment a textbook setup turned into an exclamation mark the whole world saw but the fighter hadn’t read yet. Look at the chain: Paulo rolls in expecting a takedown, he telegraphs his weight shift, his eyes dart for the double-leg like he’s autopiloting—then gravity suddenly remembers its RSVP at the last second and leaves the door ajar. Dricus didn’t need to cheat physics; he just needed Borrachinha to already believe he was cheating the cage itself by walking in with a “I’ll fold him in under two minutes” résumé. Six KOs and four TKOs earlier that same year aren’t just finish numbers; they’re the signature Borrachinha carried into the Octagon like a guarantee slip—and then one knee redefined the whole document. So is Dricus the most entertaining middleweight ever? Tough call. Is Borrachinha’s chin the biggest scam in modern MMA? Without question. And does the knee clip belong in the Louvre or on a highlight reel? Flip a coin, but whichever way you land, the debate’s already decided whose blueprint won that night.