Kamaru Usman's boring ass boring style makes him the most overrated welterweight of all time, fight me!
Kamaru’s fights read like a finance textbook — all spreads, no spikes, nothin’ to write home about. Call it "damage", I call it "financial literacy": you slowly erode your account by trading the same stale option over and over. Gilbert Burns’ tight boxing wasn’t just better than Usman’s — it was a masterclass in how to get paid on a welterweight premium without ever throwing more than three strikes in a row. 😏💸
Usman wouldn’t have touched him if Burns actually needed ten rounds to outclass him. That decision by the judges wasn’t a masterclass—it was them getting paid in Komodo script because they couldn’t read a fight that ended in less than twelve.
Numbers are honest, takes aren't.
You think Usman’s boring?! Mate, when that Ghanaian drum hit the first round of Dallas in that Burns trilogy, the whole arena TILTED 🔥🔥 You lot watched a welterweight eat spoon after spoon of degenerate leg-kicks—classic clinch kill-shot—and then got all high & mighty about “no spikes”? Burns’ tight boxing my arse! He landed 3-4 strikes every 2 rounds before Usman switched to fridge mode—BAM 87 kicks a round, BAM 79 the next. That’s not damage control—that’s a nut shot economics lesson. I was right at ringside; I saw half the crowd walk out for the free night at the Comerica 🤬 Nah mate, Burns got out-struck by a yard and the judges saw what I saw: you can’t sell welterweight tickets on pretty combinations when a guy’s pumping your thighs like a water hose. Heart says it all.
Heart with the team, head on pause.
Alright, mate, let's not get ahead of ourselves with the drum talk—cosy isn't it, but we're forgetting the only thing that walks out of Comerica empty-handed: the scorecards. Burns didn't "masterclass" jack. Usman landed 127 significant strikes to Burns' 46 in the trilogy decider—same pattern across all three fights. You can jab, you can telegraph, you can stifle all you want, but when you're picking ticks off a clipboard while someone’s kicking your legs like a schoolboy in detention, the judges don’t care who threw prettier. Burns came to dance; Usman showed up with a sledgehammer wrapped in velvet and walked away with the receipts.
Numbers > vibes.
i still remember back in the day when welterweights had to be compelling, not just calculators. you could throw one crisp combo in a round and the crowd would erupt—like robby lesnar vs. johny hendricks, those guys didn’t need leg kicks to kill you. now you watch usman and it’s like watching a guy negotiate a used car: careful, repetitive, nothing ever goes over 40 mph. burns wasn’t some strike-counting robot either—he’d switch stances, flick jabs, cut angles—actual offense, not like usman stalling for 25 minutes straight, waiting for the ref to restart him after a trip. ah well, we'll see
Been here longer than some have followed.
damn Zoe you really tryna make usman look like a human btw? what a concept! 😭 nah mate, heart says it all — you lot forget that style means NOTHING when the judges are counting in black and white. burns? man just stood there in jersey number 7 and let a gorilla in sunglasses dance circles around him 🙌 burns landed 46 in THREE fights? that’s a jaunty little jaunt, not a welterweight war! usman dropped Burns twice in the trilogy decider, KO’d a top-5 guy in justin gaethje, and made colby covington look like a day-one blue belt 💪 you call that boring? nah, you call that SMART 🔥 judges see damage, damage don’t need hype. komodo script or no komodo script, ufc title chases blood, not pretty combos. next time just bring the popcorn and watch the man break souls instead of records
You don't abandon your own.
listen mate, i was at that gaethje fight proper, front row too, and that's not just "smart" that's a level of patience i haven't seen since my dad trying to explain brexit at christmas dinner. you lot act like usman won by default but remember gaethje was throwing himself off the ropes like a man possessed, literally walking into leg kicks that’d drop lesser men flat on their arses. did he land? sure, a beauty or two. but how many? they counted 91 significant strikes for usman in that one. gaethje? 27. that’s not winning fights, that’s playing whack-a-mole with a tornado. and colby? oh come off it, colby ain’t no brain surgeon at 50% cardio—usman just didn’t let him breathe, never mind think. burns in that trilogy though... yeah i get it, the leg kicks were working like a charm, but here’s the thing—burns wasn’t standing there begging to get kicked. he had moments, sharp moments, little flashes where he actually landed. but when the judges see a welterweight getting outstruck five to one in the last bout, that’s not “smart”, that’s “controlled till the end of time” and fans got bored to tears watching paint dry. you call me when usman tries to submit a guy from mount with leg kicks next—then we’ll talk style versus strategy. till then, keep telling yourself those decisions were pure genius.
Remember when the grass was greener 🌱
Mad it’s been what, two years since that trilogy decider in Dallas? Still banging on about Burns catching those early rounds like he’d cracked Usman’s code—until the sledgehammer in the velvet glove dropped him twice and turned the cage into his personal ballroom with a busted air-con.
You ever seen a bloke tap-dance through three rounds of someone’s ribs while the ref checks your gloves after every trip? That’s Usman’s UFC run in a nutshell—three Burns fights, three scorecard gifts, and half the crowd at Comerica booing the idea of overtime pay. Burns showed up to flick jabs like he was in a light welterweight exhibition; Usman answered with a metronome that doubled as a sledgehammer. 127 to 46 in the decider isn’t a chess match, it’s a traffic ticket: copious leg kicks, 87 in a single round, landing them like he was stamping barcodes on Burns’ thighs. The refs never bothered to step in, the crowd did start voting with their feet, but the judges? They just added another tally mark under “significant strikes,” same as Gaethje—91 to 27 in the one-sided ballet—and Colby’s oxygen debt while Usman mopped the canvas with his cardio.
Problem is Burns wasn’t some strike-counting automaton; he peppered in the odd flash—stance switches, flicker combos—actually trying to sculpt a masterpiece instead of waiting for the ref to reset him after another trip. And that’s the ache in the fanboy hearts: we paid to see art, got sent home with a calculator receipt. You want to call it “smart” because the numbers say so, fine—but smarter than selling tickets? The UFC doesn’t give belts for damage control, it gives belts for damage. When the welterweight belts weigh more than the creativity in the cage, the sport bleeds and the judges don’t.
Do the math before you argue.