MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Chapter 414 Ireland vs. Poland: Lightweight II

The fight began with both fighters circling, measuring each other's movements.

Collin NcGyver stood in his familiar wide stance, his lead hand low, his back foot light. ready to spring in or out at any moment.

Mateusz Garmrond, the more traditional fighter, kept a tight high guard, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

He knew Collin was dangerous in the early rounds, and he wasn't about to rush in recklessly.

The first strike came from Collin. A sharp teep kick to the body, stabbing right into Garmrond's midsection. Not powerful, but enough to gauge distance.

Garmrond didn't react much. He stayed patient, inching closer, his hands high.

Then he fired a calf kick.

The kick snapped into Collin's lead leg, forcing him to shift his weight. But Collin barely acknowledged it. Instead, he smirked and feinted a step forward.

Garmrond stayed disciplined, not biting on the feint.

Collin flicked a jab out, light, but with just enough speed to make Garmrond respect it. Then he threw another teep kick, again targeting the midsection.

Garmrond caught this one and immediately drove forward, trying to turn it into a takedown.

Collin's eyes sharpened.

The moment Garmrond committed, Collin yanked his leg back and circled out, barely avoiding getting pressed against the cage.

He immediately countered with a sharp left hand, clipping Garmrond just above the eye.

The crowd erupted as the first real shot landed.

Irish Commentator: "Ah, there it is! First clean shot for NcGyver! The speed's still there, no doubt!"

Polish Commentator: "But look at Garmrond, not discouraged at all! He wants to keep pushing forward!"

Garmrond reset, nodding slightly to himself. He wasn't here to play Collin's game. He needed to force the clinch, make this ugly.

Collin, still light on his feet, bounced slightly as if to say Come on, then.

The fight was only just beginning.

Collin continued bouncing lightly, but Garmrond wasn't playing the waiting game anymore. He saw what he needed, Collin's footwork looked sharp, but his defensive reactions weren't as crisp as they used to be.

Mateusz stepped in fast, firing a sharp one-two combination, forcing Collin to lean back with minimal head movement.

Then came the next calf kick, harder this time.@@@@

It snapped into Collin's leg with a sharp thud, his stance visibly shifting as he tried to shake it off.

Polish Commentator: "He's slowing down already! Those kicks will add up, and Garmrond knows it!"

Collin flicked out a counter jab, but Garmrond wasn't there.

Instead, Mateusz ducked low, faked another leg kick, and then shot in for a takedown.

Collin reacted a second too late.

If anything, he was the worst type of opponent for a fighter like Collin, young, disciplined, relentless, and with ties to one of Collin's biggest rivals.

This was personal for him.

And so far, Collin looked bad. Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire

The belief that he could somehow rekindle the greatness of his past was slowly fading in the eyes of those watching.

The movements were still there, the flashes of skill, the swagger, but the sharpness, the ability to adjust under fire?

That was what seemed to be missing.

And Garmrond could smell it.

The Polish fighter stepped forward, pressuring Collin against the cage again, looking for another takedown.

But just as he lunged in–

Collin's left uppercut shot up like a cannon, landing flush on Garmrond's chin.

The Polish fighter's head snapped back violently. His legs buckled, his body stiffened for a moment.

The crowd erupted.

Irish Commentator: "OH! HE'S HURT! GARMROND IS HURT!"

Polish Commentator: "THAT was vintage NcGyver! Where did that come from?!"

Collin's instincts took over.

He smelled blood, and for the first time in the fight, he charged forward.

A wild left hook just missed.

He threw a sharp right straight, partially blocked.

Then another left, Garmrond ducked under it.

Collin overcommitted, just slightly.

And Garmrond capitalized.

Before Collin could fully reset, Garmrond shot under him, grabbed his legs, and slammed him onto the mat.

The roar of the crowd shifted.

The moment of hope, snatched away in seconds.

Irish Commentator: "Oh no! He went for the finish and paid for it!"

Polish Commentator: "What a recovery! That's the difference between a disciplined fighter and one relying on moments!"

Collin gritted his teeth, trying to scramble, but Garmrond was already on top of him, flattening him out.

The fight had just swung right back out of Collin's hands.