Midway through round 2 of his last fight, you might’ve thought Dustin Poirier’s career would end on a flat note.
Max Holloway dazed Poirier with a fierce right jab to the head, leading to a wave of missile-like blows from both directions. Halloway grabbed Poirier’s right arm, wrenched him to his knees, then clamped his legs around Poirier’s waist and discharged a broadside of fists to the back of his head.
But by the end of that same round, it was Poirier on top of Holloway, showering his face with furious elbows as they writhed and struggled on the bloodstained mat.
The bell sounded, signaling the end of a relentless round 2, but everyone failed to notice. The moans and roars of the crowd fueled by Poirier’s retaliation overpowered the bell, and the contenders battled until the ref pulled them apart.
Holloway and Poirier, both beginning to bleed, sprang off the mat. Each had taken severe blows. But it his much was clear: Neither intended to let up on the diesel. It was destined to be a stubborn, violent dance to the end.
The fifth round expired. The judges handed down results: A unanimous decision (48-47, 49-46, 49-46). Holloway took it.
The hometown hero fell. But history won’t remember Dustin Poirier’s last match as a losing effort.
Post fight, Holloway didn’t tarry; he whisked himself from the octagon following a brief interview.
Then, UFC 318 became one for the ages.
After 40 professional MMA fights, Poirier unwrapped his gloves and let them fall to the mat. He clothed himself in the Acadiana flag and embraced a long line of friends and loved ones. First among them, fellow Louisianan, Lil Wayne.
As he began his exit, Sinatra’s voice thundered throughout Smoothie King Center, that nostalgic baritone swelled with intensity:
“And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way.”
The crowd wept, cheered, and flapped their Acadiana flags as Dustin “The Diamond of Lafayette” Poirier stepped out of the octagon.
Covington-born comedian, Theo Von, waited in the wings, among the last to embrace and congratulate Poirier before he disappeared to the locker room.
In the press room, Poirier expressed a measure of frustration over the judges' results. Still, he did so with a certain strength of satisfaction in his eyes.
Poirier expressed gratitude when reflecting on his career.
“I’m just a kid out here, walking out with Lil Wayne, living his dream. What a beautiful life… It’s a beautiful story because I know the author,” Poirier told the press.
Poirier also shared his thoughts on the intimidating nature of navigating a new life, one outside of the octagon.
“Nothing’s ever going to fill that void of walking out to the crowd trying to will you to win and fighting one of the best guys in the world for 25 minutes,” Poirier said. “I don't know if anything's going to feel that way again.”
The Lafayette-born fighter explained why it is he has chosen to remain in his hometown.
“I’ve been representing Acadiana before I got into the UFC,” Poirier explains. “When we had our own shorts, I would print the flag on my waistband. I’ve been carrying the flag for the Cajun people because that’s who helped me become who I am. That’s why I moved back when my daughter was born, because I wanted to raise her in a place that has a sense of community.”
As the press conference closed, I asked if he had any recollection of his first fight. Not in a professional sense, but before that. He paused before recollecting a story about how one of the first fights was one that made a less-than-upstanding first impression on his now wife.
“It was in middle school,” said Poirier. “My wife just transferred to the school I was at; it was one of her first weeks. I got into a fight and smashed this kid's head on the bricks; his teeth went through his lip. I got arrested. She didn't know me at the time, but she went home and told her mom that some kid got into a fight and got arrested… But (eventually) she married me, so it worked out.”
Now, Poirier looks forward to heading back to Lafayette to spend time with his family.
“I'm not flying home after a hard fight. I’m driving home,” Poirier said of his plans for the future. “My daughter and I already have a plan. We’re going to watch a movie, pop some popcorn, just be a dad, and get back to the 337.”
…
I’ve seen a lot of headlines use that word, “spoiled,” to describe Poirier’s Saturday night. I flat-out disagree with such a choice. There’s every bit of dignity and legacy in the way Poirier’s career closed.
It was a good fight. And for his curtain to draw in Southeast Louisiana, among the deafening cheers of Cajun folk who poured into New Orleans from all corners of the state to show their love and appreciation was every bit of a storybook ending you could ask for, regardless of a judge's scorecard.
Upon departing the arena, close to 2 am, ears ringing, still two lines of dialogue from the 1968 movie Lion in Winter stuck in my mind.
Two trapped characters discuss their shared and looming demise. The first expresses his refusal to beg once caught.
The second replies, “You chivalric fool, as if the way one fell down mattered.”
And first says, “When the fall is all there is, it matters a great deal.”