One free-to-air WWE belt for our cage king—who’s ready to bend Conor McGregor’s arm again?

Heard this in the car on the way home from the last pub crawl. I open the door, and the front seat’s covered in empty warm beer cans, but hey—my phone buzzes with this ‘quiet cage’ nonsense. You got a source for the WWE convo beyond your loud mate after two pints or is the ghost of Conor’s nose still buzzing about that flight story?

80k fans chanting his name when the cage doors BOOM open, Volko strutting out like he owns the place... mate that’s a dream 🔥 imagine Conor’s face when he realises he’s no longer the loudest animal in the room! We’ve backed him through thick and thin, still he runs through welterweights like they’re Sunday league extras—this man lives for pressure! Sparring partner? Nah, this’d be a MASTERCLASS for the kid, watch our lot break him down before he even hits his second pro wrestling entrance 💪😱 no way Conor comes out of this humming... not after Perth heat!

Is 35 really the cut-off for fighting heavyweights when your body’s built like a granite slab and your cardio’s still a smoker’s cough away from gasping? Look at Fedor—he was 41 with a body made of bricks and a chin that laughed off punches—and here we are, watching a Welterweight king who just ran through Islam Makhachev, Chandler’s hand still trembling from that last body kick. Weight classes in WWE? They’re more fluid than a drunk ref at a weigh-in; push into 190, maybe even 205 if they inflate the belt’s weight allowance on live weigh-ins so Conor doesn’t overnight to 170. The real wall isn’t the scale—it’s the 8 seconds that separate striking from grappling. And the cage? That cage’s not deadzone—it’s a 6-foot funnel lined with 20,000 screaming idiots who’d mob for one elbow off the top. When Volkanovski walks out, the decibel level doesn’t drop—it jumps a full octave because the crowd senses violence before the first strike lands. They don’t cheer the entrance; they hear the first crunch of bone on bone. As for sparring? Ever seen him teach the guillotine three times back-to-back in sparring gloves? That’s what Volko does—he’ll bend Conor’s arm like a coat hanger while Conor’s still selling the first “I’m fine” lie to the ref. Pressure? The man thrives on it—last camp he walked through Brian Ortega’s triangle chain like it was a Tuesday night drill. Conor’s last “warrior return” looked more like a grocery run where the yogurt aisle was closed; Volkanovski’s camps look like boot camp seasoning under full stadium lights.

What if Volko makes Conor tap in 60 seconds, not three rounds? I’ve been to his open training day last year—5am start, no crowd, no cameras, just the lad choking out a wrestler on the floor after twelve reps because “they’re used to gassing from sparring in air-con studios.” Pressure for him isn’t noise; it’s silence before the choke slaps. You lot keep screaming about the cage volume, but when the lights go off and the decibels hit eleven, that’s when the granite goes to work.

Gym towels soaked in sweat, a floor that’s seen more blood than a butcher’s apron—but still he’s there at 5am like it’s a wake-up call to the rest of us 💀 the man’s built different. Conor could pull every MMA move under the lights, but Volko? Nah mate, you’re forgetting the guy who made himself through 20 straight Thai rounds THEN finished a main card knockout in the same night while his legs were screaming “we quit” in four languages.

If Volko ever steps into that WWE ring, the cage isn’t gonna stay quiet just because some lad in a suit whispers in his ear—nah, mate. You’re forgetting one tiny detail: the man’s last open gym session in Sydney had absolute chaos outside because half the crowd tried to storm the place when he broke a wrestler’s arm mid-roll. Conor’s gonna find out quick that Welterweight violence doesn’t travel well when the air smells like ozone and adrenaline instead of stale pints.

remember back in 2019 when the whole shebang started buzzing that mayweather was gonna lace up for a exhibition boxing match against pacquiao on channel 7 just ‘cause they paid him enough? everyone had their phones out, memes flying, boxing purists lining up to call it a cash grab while the casuals were already booking tickets. ended up just being a fancy press conference with breadsticks and don’t worry lads, we’ll do it next year—still waiting mate, still waiting. or how about the time mma media ran that story about jones going full wwe monster heel for the undertaker feud back in 2015? three separate outlets swore they saw choreography tapes, one even printed a fake poster with his arm around bruno’s ankle before the story just… vanished after wilson didn’t return their calls. same old song—rumour mill starts spinning, clock strikes midnight, nothing but crickets and half-eaten chip packets in the foyer of the forum. time’s got a way of doing that—ringside seat only folks