Midway through round 2 of his last fight, you might’ve thought Dustin Poirier’s career would end on a flat, bloody note.
Max Holloway dazed Poirier with a fierce right jab to the temple, followed by a wave of missile-like blows from every direction. Halloway clutched Poirier’s right arm, wrenched the hometown hero to his knees, and clamped his legs around his waist. A broadside of fists erupted on the back of Poirier's head.
But by the end of the 3-minute round, it was Poirier on top of Holloway, showering his face with elbows as they writhed and struggled, sweat and blood misted the mat and chainlink octagon.
Round two ended, but the crowd's moaning and hollering from Poirier’s retaliation surged so loud that the contenders failed to hear the bell, and continued to grapple until the ref split them apart.
Holloway and Poirier sprang off the mat and smiled through the blood. At this point, it was clear: Neither intended to let up. It was destined to be a stubborn, violent dance to the end.
The fifth round expired. The judges delivered a unanimous decision (48-47, 49-46, 49-46). Holloway won.
The Louisianian fell. But Poirier’s final fight will unlikely go down 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 Louisian native, 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 chooses 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 could recall his first fight, not professionally, but before that, his first tussle, the first time he felt the rush of combat. He paused, then said the first he could remember was one that made a less-than-ideal first impression on a girl who is now his 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 plenty 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 number on a judge's scorecard.
Upon departing the arena close to 2 am, ears still ringing, a couple of lines from the 1968 movie Lion in Winter popped into my mind.
Two characters, trapped in a palace dungeon, discuss their looming demise.
The first expresses how he refuses to beg for mercy, even though it may mean his death.
The second says, “You chivalric fool, as if the way one fell down mattered.”
And first replies, “When the fall is all there is, it matters a great deal.”