#3: Demetrious Johnson
Photo by Jeff Bottari/Zuffa LLC/Zuffa LLC via Getty Images
The first ever UFC flyweight champion might just be the only champ in the division’s history that ever really matters.
Not favoured to win the belt, disregarded when he was champ, and traded for a mediocre welterweight as soon as he was champ no more: These are indisputable facts about the UFC tenure of the man most of us know as ‘Mighty Mouse’.
In another world Demetrious Johnson is the most popular world champ in MMA history, not only signed to the world’s biggest combat sports organisation but treated like a genuine star.
18-2-1 in Zuffa-owned promotions, 11 title defences, a whopping seven finishes yet somehow seen as an uninteresting champion, perfect for headlining free cards but never given more than gushing commentary telling us how great he was.
As the saying goes, show, don’t tell. The UFC might not have shown off arguably their most talented fighter too much, but Johnson showed us time and time again why he was great.
His mother was deaf, his biological father was never in the picture, and his military man step-father was abusive. The generally affable Johnson has never shied away from this, but has never seemed the surly, bad childhood type either. As a fighter and as a personality in the MMA world, he has generally remained as professional in the cage as he has outside of it.
And oh, what a professional Mighty Mouse was! It all started off inauspiciously enough, the Tacoma, Washington native first dominating the Pacific-Northwest before venturing over to Anchorage to win two bouts in the Alaska Fighting Championships, where Johnson’s trainer—MMA pioneer Matt Hume—was a bigger draw to the promotion than the talented fighter that stepped foot into their cage. Footage is scant of these early wins, but ‘Mighty Mouse’ looks much like the fighter that would go on to dominate the 125lb division years later: quick feet, in-and-out movement, blending strikes with takedowns, ridiculous defensive reflexes when latched onto by a wrestle-heavy opponent.
The world doesn’t end in Alaska. The competition would get stiffer once he moved into the big leagues.
World Extreme Cagefighting
For hardcore foragers of fight footage, the events put on by the Sacramento-based WEC are firm favourites. For historians they are especially important as we get to see some of the all-time greats (as well as some excellent but sadly under appreciated champions) during their absolute primes.
Or in Demetrious Johnson’s case, his formative years.
In a fight that is absolutely rewatchable, Johnson’s first opponent was Brad ‘One Punch’ Pickett, the cheeky chappy from England with the misleading moniker. But then, ‘Way More Well-Rounded Than You Might Expect’ just doesn’t have the same ring does it.
Still, Pickett tried to take Johnson’s head off early, settling for a takedown-heavy approach once Johnson proved too hard to pin down. Those takedowns must have weighed heavily on the mind of the judges, as even though the unbeaten prospect had his moments in the fight, he was awarded a derisory single round on their cards.
Lots of reversals, lots of speed, and all aspects of mixed martial arts on show: just the way it’s meant to be.
Joe Rogan certainly felt so, and it’s refreshing to hear him engaged in the commentary booth. Not just engaged, but enthused, and it’s not hard to see why: Rogan was genuinely amazed by Demetrious Johnson’s speed, not just of hand and foot but in his ability to escape bad situations on the ground.
Rogan even said something remarkably prescient to longtime co-host Mike Goldberg:
“I’ll tell you what, Mike, there’s been a lot of talk about opening up a 125-pound division, and if they do I believe Demetrious Johnson can make that weight…and if he does he is gonna’ be a handful there!”
Rogan was right of course. But it would be five more fights, an unsuccessful title fight and nearly two years before that talk would become reality.
Ultimate Fighting Championship
After his decision loss to Brad Pickett, Johnson would actually be matched like a prospect, beating lanky Nick Pace and limited—but sporadically dangerous—wrestler-boxer Damacio Page to round off his WEC career at a modest 2-1.
But World Extreme Cagefighting had been purchased by Zuffa, LLC (the owners of the UFC) back in 2006, and after surveying the level of competition and out of necessity for more content with new TV deals the UFC brought the WEC divisions (and champions) under their banner.
Demetrious Johnson did some impressive early work, although it can be argued he was no longer being matched as a prospect but as fodder.
The chosen opponent for the legendary Norifumi ‘Kid’ Yamamoto, making his UFC debut to great hype. These are small guys though so whatever the hype, this intriguing contest found its home on the Facebook prelims. A sign of what was to come for the UFC’s lightest divisions perhaps.
In a scintillating three-round clash, the late, great ‘Kid’ gave an excellent effort, but Johnson looked on another level to him. Typical info dump from Mike Goldberg about Yamamoto’s deep wrestling credentials? Boom, Johnson takedown. Rogan mentioning Yamamoto’s striking credentials? Mighty Mouse stunning him with quicker hands, or baiting Yamamoto into striking him so he can slip and shoot.
There can be no doubt that Yamamoto had seen better days: a crazy athlete in his prime but having lost two of his last three it can not be argued that he was the pound-for-pound quality fighter of his prime.
His technical nuances were belied by a body falling apart under the stress of multiple injuries and a ridiculous schedule, and he was not able to generate the same level of explosiveness. Finally being at his natural weight was offset by years of taking on preposterous matchups against men significantly larger than him. It made his name, and it’s what fight fans will always remember him fondly for. Two fine gentlemen who might well have made for the greatest matchup in history if we had access to a time machine, but as shredded and sharp as Yamamoto looked at times in this fight, the significant drop-off in his performances after this debut UFC loss, shows that he was past his best and Johnson was entering his peak. The Kid was thus a fighter with big ideas without the foundations of athleticism to put them into practise anymore.
Still, it must be said that Yamamoto was odds-on favourite to win. Demetrious Johnson might have impressed Joe Rogan and some onlookers during his WEC fights, but he was not yet seen as that hot a prospect that he was favoured to beat a clearly faded great. Look back and you’ll see MMA pundits acknowledging Yamamoto’s downfall whilst still picking him to knock Johnson out in the first round.
No one really cared about Demetrious Johnson.
Johnson was given another lower-weight legend in his sophomore effort the UFC: former 135-pound WEC champ Miguel Torres.
Known as an iron-chinned brawler on the feet and a violent submission snatcher on the ground, Miguel Torres might have benefitted from being consumed by the Zuffa machine a few years earlier. By the time he made the move over with his fellow WEC alumni in 2010, he had been sparked out by Brian Bowles and nearly garrotted by Joseph Benavidez. A couple of bounce back wins aside, Torres had clearly seen better days.
This is not a D.J love-in: yes, he ranks highly for us at The Fight Site, but if you polled our staff I doubt you would find many that felt ‘Mighty Mouse’ deserved the win over Torres at UFC 130.
Demetrious Johnson found himself in Brad Pickett’s position at the end of this fight: taking Torres down multiple times, the former champ was clearly the more dangerous fighter, constantly trying to finish the fight, and managing to sweep Johnson to deny him full control of the ebb-and-flow. An impressive performance for a still-learning prospect against a highly-experienced and significantly longer opponent, but I have watched the fight more than once and struggle to see how Johnson could have deserved the decision.
Torres at least was gracious in defeat:
“Sorry guys, I f*cked up and let the judges decide my fate. Johnson did a good job and had a great game plan. ... Rewatched my fight, think I won based on effective attacks, sweeps and position control. ... Bad judging can't hold me down, I will be back."
Torres never did get back to the top of the heap. 1-1 after Johnson, he was cut by the UFC.
Johnson, who might not have even deserved to escape with a decision victory, found himself fighting for the recently-minted UFC Bantamweight championship. The formidable Dominick Cruz held the belt, making the second defence of the UFC version (and his second of the year) with the lineage stretching back to the WEC days.
One reason for the jump we see if we watch Johnson’s fight against Torres and then just a few fights later down at flyweight, is that going into his first UFC title fight he was still working full time in a factory.
Johnson told FOX News:
"It was in a warehouse in Tacoma where we recycled paper to make boards to protect televisions during the shipping process. I would get up at 6 a.m., be at work by 7 a.m., get two 15-minute breaks and get off work by 3. From there, I’d shoot down to the gym, at the time I did CrossFit so it was a CrossFit gym. I’d do my conditioning work then drive to the fight gym and train there from 5 to 7. I’d get home at 8, eat dinner with the girlfriend, who is now my wife. Then, we’d go to bed, wake up and do it all over again."
Urged by Matt Hume to literally give up his day job for a while, the chance of a UFC title fight was the catalyst for Johnson transitioning to MMA as a fulltime occupation.
We wouldn’t quite see the fruits of this newfound dedication right away though.
Cruz—ranked sixth on our countdown—was a lengthy nightmare even for fully-fledged 135lbers and was just as much a poor matchup for the diminutive—but clearly talented—Mighty Mouse.
Ed Gallo, in his piece for The Fight Site which made a case for Cruz as the 6th greatest mixed martial artist of all time:
This isn’t a knock on Johnson, but he was held down for long stretches and controlled by Dominick Cruz. This is not something you can say for Urijah Faber, and something that is less true for Joseph Benavidez, a similarly undersized bantamweight.
Johnson definitely gave Cruz a few looks he found confusing, but overall Johnson’s first attempt to win gold was a dominant loss.
No shame: probably too small for the division and not quite yet at his peak, it should be seen as an admirable effort.
And with this effort—and with Joseph Benavidez’s unsuccessful challenge of Cruz in the WEC—the Zuffa top brass must have realised they had some seriously dangerous beasts living in the wrong habitat.
2012 saw the inauguration of a new championship in a brand new division (for the UFC at least).
The flyweights were coming, and Demetrious Johnson was coming for the flyweights.
The Tournament
The UFC did not play games when introducing the 125lb weight class. It’s easy to forget now, but Dana White was openly all-in on the little guys, and the organisation tried their utmost to assemble the most talented and honoured 125lbers around.
The winner of the tournament would inherit the lineages of several organisations, arguably becoming the de facto lineal and legitimate flyweight champion. A master stroke by the UFC.
The four men involved—and the lineages they carried with them into the tournament—were as follows:
Ian McCall (11-2)
Like Johnson and Benavidez, Ian McCall was an alumni of the WEC. Like them, he suffered a decision loss to the great bantamweight Dominick Cruz, then in his pre-title days.
A solid MMA wrestler, he had his chops as a striker too, with a well-rounded Thai-style game buoyed by a sharp and versatile right hand, especially wielded as a counter punch.
Eventually finding his feet at flyweight and coming into the tournament as the Tachi Palace Fights champion, McCall had the strongest claim to being the best flyweight in the world.
Why, you may ask? Looking at the chart below it’s not hard to see why: by beating who he beat, he was taking on the lineages of nearly all the major MMA promotions (and some minor leagues) that featured a 125lb weight class at that time.
With his wins over Formiga, Montague and Ortiz, McCall arguably carried six title lineages with him into the tournament
With no PRIDE FC, UFC or WEC flyweight champions, Ian McCall should be seen as the ‘champ’ going into the UFC’s tourney. Whether you agree with this or not, the UFC would give him a chance to solidify that claim once and for all.
Yasuhiro Urushitani (19-4-6)
The Shooto champ was a sharp fighter whose game was mainly based around kicks. He espoused a patient, thinking-mans style over all else. Unlikely to ever blow your mind on film, he was at least a consistent operator, with an aesthetically displeasing but wholly competent record earned primarily fighting out of his native Japan. His best wins included Yuki Shoujou, a young American called John Dodson, and Mamoru Yamaguchi, who was still ranked highly in the division going into this tournament and regarded at one point as an arguable pick for world’s best. Therefore, Urushitani should be seen near the top of the division as well.
Competing in the Shooto bantamweight division (123lbs) and picking up the vacant title after champ Shinichi Kojima’s injury-related vacancy, Urushitani’s inclusion in the UFC’s tourney is the equivalent of inviting one of the world’s best super bantamweight boxers into a tournament to crown a new featherweight champion. It makes perfect sense, even if Urushitani was a notch below the other three combatants. His title claim is fairly weak, but the Shooto lineage is included through Ian McCall anyway as per the above diagram, so this tournament would also unify two separate Shooto title claims.
Joseph Benavidez (15-2)
The last entrant alongside Benavidez was of course Demetrious Johnson (14-2) himself. They were two peas in a pod: two undersized 135lbers who had already proven themselves superb talents, competed in title bouts, and were the best possible options to move down in the whole sport. They were the two elite talents that had shown themselves to be ‘pound-for-pound’ talents, and were natural inclusions.
Benavidez boasted wins over the likes of Miguel Torres, Eddie Wineland and Rani Yayha: all talented, and all naturally bigger men that had made names for themselves in the ultra-competitive bantamweight division. Like Johnson, Joe-B would finally be getting a chance to mix it with men his own size.
Semi-Finals
For Benavidez, it was the Shooto champ up first: Urushitani had made a nuisance of himself in the first round against Benavidez without getting too much done; a basic kicking game and range management was all he really achieved, a gameplan that was instantly nullified by the quick feet and explosive hands of Benavidez, crumpling the Shooto champ as the second round had barely begun.
‘Mighty Mouse’ would have no such easy introduction to the flyweight class: matched for speed by ‘Uncle Creepy’ McCall, Johnson’s superb cage IQ was also tested by the well-rounded TPF champ, who mixed a slick clinch striking game with chain wrestling to always keep Johnson guessing.
It’s crazy to think now, but ‘Mighty Mouse’ was not yet a finished product: much of what made him great can be seen in his first fight with McCall—quick hands and feet, lots of subtle, twitchy movements, a variety of kicks, layered defense—but he was still making the odd bad decision. See, the first round; D.J throws a quick body kick but falls into it, McCall catches and grounds him. In time, Johnson would be confident enough to put himself in bad situations, knowing he had the all-round skill to reverse a poor sequence into a positive one (similar to Kazushi Sakuraba in his prime) but at this point it’s bad cage IQ that gets him nowhere.
But there’s also some excellent work from Demetrious Johnson that—if not an indicator of just how great he would become in time—shows us a lot with the benefit of hindsight.
Johnson fakes a jab and quickly changes levels, grabbing a single. Nothing on it, but never mind; Johnson reaches round and frames with his left arm—pulling McCall closer—then ditches the single, letting go with his right to throw a short jolt right into McCall’s chin, a perfect blend of grappling and striking that catches the lineal champ unawares and sends him on a round trip to queer street.
In the second, McCall had to make some adjustments, and showed his class, despite likely getting the worst of the round. McCall was unable to counter-punch Johnson—who showed off his speed, getting in and out of the pocket seamlessly and leaving McCall flailing at air—so adjusted to counter Johnson’s raids with low kicks, some of them landing well. But generally, Johnson was still too quick.
Going into the third round, you might have had it even. You might have had Johnson two rounds up (most likely). But it was competitive, and Ian McCall did not look like a beaten man in the corner.
Then, the third round, perhaps one of the most famous rounds in flyweight history, which might be telling about what has transpired in the division since this fight given this was only the second ever 125lb bout in UFC history.
Perhaps infamous would be a better way to describe it, as one of the all-time judging clangers would follow.
McCall got in deep on a single and ended up in half-guard, but didn’t rest, immediately going to work with elbows from the top. Mouse got back to his feet, but McCall again showed his ability to make in-fight adjustments: rather than trying to counter Johnson’s punches, he slipped a left, let the smaller man fall into the pocket, and countered with a big slam.
Johnson—as he would for much of his career—got back to his feet, but again showed poor IQ, shooting in with another punch which saw him taken down again. McCall had his measure, got mount (and later back mount).
Grounded and pounded for much of the latter stages of the round, Johnson found himself unable to escape, and although McCall—new to the big stage—spent time clowning and playing to an increasingly vocal crowd when he could have been dropping in harder shots to a prone Mighty Mouse, there could be no doubt by the end of the third that he had earned a 10-8.
By the rules of the tournament, a drawn bout would result in a fourth round. An excellent decision, as ‘sudden death’ in this fight would likely have resulted in a clear winner.
The draw was what was rendered. However, this was after the bout totals were incorrectly tallied, and Demetrious Johnson left as the victor.
The scorecard that was tallied incorrectly and prevented the sudden death round that should’ve been
Dana White was furious, judging incompetency leading to a fractured tournament that would now have to replay one of its most important bouts.
Ian McCall, given his strong showing down the stretch in his first UFC fight, was seen as the favourite going into the rematch with Johnson (held three months later as the headline bout on the third UFC on FX card) and the opening of the first round was seen as the beginning of the fourth round we should have seen in their prior bout.
The rematch couldn’t have been more different than the first: a new and improved D.J was more improved in every facet of the game. McCall was game, but unable to replicate any of his success from their first fight.
Johnson controlled McCall against the cage more, pressuring his biceps and not allowing him to spin out. D.J also used any attempt by McCall to get off the cage as momentum for his own takedowns (whereas McCall was the stronger wrestler in their first fight).
Rather than raiding McCall and leaving him prone to counter punches, Johnson’s raids would be followed by spells of educated movement, forcing McCall—a decent counter-striker—to come forward. Whereas the usually sharp counter-boxer McCall whiffed on his punches in their first fight, Johnson—being much quicker—was able to leap forward and crack ‘Uncle Creepy’ with a counter right in the first round that sent him down as quick as the punch had been thrown. McCall’s takedown attempts were either shucked off or met with a slippery guard that McCall couldn’t stay in for long.
In the second, McCall tried to pressure, but when he got in the pocket and had any success he was met with a new wrinkle to Johnson’s game that would set him in good stead for the rest of his career: the double collar tie. Johnson would become increasingly proficient at this technique as his career went on; for now, it’s just a point of interest to see him trying to work it into his game.
While McCall countered Johnson’s first attempt at this with a short uppercut that forced the diminutive Washington native back onto his heels, McCall would get cracked with elbows in the clinch and found the same attempts to wrestle that worked so well in the first fight completely dismissed by a fighter that looked faster, more aware, and more intelligent than the one he had faced three months before.
McCall walked off in disgust—with himself presumably—as the unanimous decision was read out.
Johnson reflected on the fight to UFC.com:
“I felt a lot better and I even looked bigger because my body held on to its water and nutrients better. It was a great fight. I'm glad I had those two fights with Ian McCall because two high-caliber fights like that will get you prepared for anybody you fight next. I wanted to show the world that I had been working on my takedown defense, and if you take me down I'll get right back up. Obviously, I would have loved to have knocked him out, have him go lights out from that one punch, but Ian McCall is a tough guy. I want to be the best in the world and I think I showed that in that fight. I'm getting better at 125.”
As Johnson said after the fight to the UFC: “I got that moustache out of my life now and now I gotta’ go to Sexy Joe-B”
The Final
“Joseph and I are going to go out there and put on a great fight and it's going to be one of the best fights of the year" — Demetrious Johnson to UFC.com
Demetrious Johnson was wrong. He and Joseph Benavidez put on—at least in the eyes of this writer—one of the best fights of all time.
As a boxing historian, there are some fights I revisit. My label for these bouts is ‘two-way technicals’ and they feature two highly-skilled combatants going at it, nip-and-tuck all the way to the final bell, lots of adjustments being made and the brain working twice as hard as the hands and feet. They’re not stinkers either, or fencing matches: they’re the rare fight between technicians that result in a feast for the eyes.
Examples of this kinda’ fight: Tony Canzoneri vs. Kid Chocolate I; the bouts between James Toney and Mike McCallum (particularly the first two) and—while we’re with McCallum—the second bout between the Jamaican legend and the genius from Zaire, Sumbu Kalambay. All-time great Ezzard Charles versus all-time great Harold Johnson. Roman ‘Chocolatito’ Gonzalez vs. Juan Francisco Estrada. For a more recent example? Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez versus Gennady Golovkin II.
With boxing, there’s a rich history of all-time great fighters and a wealth of footage to parse through in order to discover and catalogue these two-way technical classics.
I can think of a few in MMA too, where well-rounded operators fought tooth and nail, each getting the upper hand only for it to swing the other way.
If you asked me to pick a bunch, the first fight between Demetrious Johnson and Joseph Benavidez would always be near the top.
“I’m gonna’ test everything about him, his heart, his chin, his cardio”, said Johnson, “I’m the fastest guy that he’s ever fought”.
Joseph Benavidez said before the fight:
“The hard work’s done, I’ve done everything I can possibly do to be a champion you know. I ask myself that every day: Did I do what it takes to be a champion today? And every day I felt like I did. It’s been a great camp, the camp felt different and that’s the hard part, the preparation is the hard part. And tonight? It’s fun”
Surely more fun to watch than it was to take part: at the end of five rounds, Benavidez was left marked up, having given everything he had and being met with even more in return.
In the first round, Benavidez showed the ability to work within Johnson’s clinch, an aspect of the game that had stifled Ian McCall somewhat. He also showed quicker hands and feet, and a want to cut angles and make the Octagon a harder place to navigate for the speedy Johnson.
Less than a minute in, Joe Rogan—an early cheerleader for the flyweight division—gave the little guys a thumbs up:
“Well this is already highlighting what I love about this division, just the speed and the technique. When you talked about these guys having fought bigger men their entire career, there’s something that happens in jiu-jitsu where you’re in class you roll with everybody, and a lot of the smaller guys they become much, much more technical because they’re constantly dealing with the big guys. And then the bigger guys they just kinda’ muscle things. And then somewhere along the line the smaller guys start tapping the bigger guys, the reason being that technique is always much more important than strength. And no one is more technical than these two guys”
That last sentence would prove accurate as both men went tit-for-tat over the next twenty-five minutes.
Johnson’s defensive radar really started to show up as a major asset in this fight, able to slip Benavidez’s punches on the exit, and not fall for similar framing techniques deployed against him that he used himself. In the first round, Benavidez faked a right cross, then attempted the right cross: no dice. Johnson felt he had his timing down, and was—you guessed it—met with a right cross as he attempted to close the distance. In that small sequence in round one you can see Benavidez adjusting to get his timing down on an elusive opponent.
Benavidez showed off his craftiness more than once in the opening stanza: timing one of Johnson’s patented left crosses, the Team Alpha Male fighter slipped to the outside, controlled Johnson’s head with his own left and fired off a right hand counter to the body. It seems innocuous enough when viewed in real time, but it’s MMA striking of the highest level.
After this sequence, Johnson started using exaggerated feints to better disguise his attacks, quickly switching up between kicks and punches at all levels to keep Benavidez guessing and give him less time to process what was coming back at him.
Right at the end of the first round, with his attacks being stifled, Benavidez rolled for a kneebar. Nothing there.
In the second round, Johnson showed off his mastery in the pocket, and his deft head movements and reflexive defense: in one sequence early in the second round, Johnson avoids a Benavidez rush, ties him up in the clinch and fires off a knee to the body, then ties Benavidez up mid-spinning back fist attempt before firing off a knee and regaining the centre of the cage all within the same sequence. Benavidez was made to look sloppy, and got off no offence of note.
Johnson started building on his own offence, throwing a nasty inside leg kick after feinting with his hands. Benavidez’s response was an ugly naked kick that Johnson saw coming a mile off.
Benavidez wasn’t stupid though: immediately after he pawed his way in behind a half-jab feint then threw the same kick. Close, but not close enough, Johnson’s foot speed being the difference.
Benavidez then pivoted into a low kick behind two looping hooks that did land, that big brain of his processing the information quicker than Johnson’s athleticism could keep up with.
At least for a moment.
Bear in mind, the preceding section about the second round has all happened within the first two minutes. There was so much happening in this fight that it was hard to keep up.
And I won’t try to: suffice to say the rest of the fight went much the same way, with both men trying to outsmart the other. Caught kicks, counter-punches, fast-paced scrambles, the increasingly bloody mug of Benavidez, and a wild right-hand from Benavidez in an exchange in the fourth round that sent Johnson sprawling leading to what appeared to be a fight-ending mounted guillotine.
It was at this moment Johnson showed not just his potential, but his championship class: patient, calm, and fighting for hand control as Benavidez tried to wrench him into the realm of unconsciousness, before escaping and attacking Benavidez’s leg instantaneously.
In the fifth, Johnson displayed not just his championship class, but his potential greatness: pivoting off at angles, bouncing in and out of range, feinting with every body part, seeking creative ways to open Benavidez up for sharp, accurate shots. Johnson exploded into a takedown, stuffed Benavidez’s attempts and kicked him to the body as he rose.
Benavidez might have been one of the more technical fighters the sport of MMA had ever seen, but he was a step behind Johnson, and that’s what mattered, with ‘Mighty Mouse’ taking a split decision to become the first ever UFC flyweight champion.
In amongst all that wondrous action, something strange happened, something that would come back to haunt the new champion—and the still new division—for the rest of his career.
It is something that Joe Rogan twice expressed bemusement at, first confused whether the crowd reaction in the third round was actually directed toward the fight, and vocally expressing the same sentiment in the fifth:
“More boos, this is really incredible. I would have never expected that, this is a very exciting fight. Some people just wanna’ see blood though, they don’t really care about technique, they don’t care about skilled guys going at it”
The red painting splashed over Benavidez’s mug obviously wasn’t enough for the Toronto crowd cageside for UFC 152. They were obviously much too restless waiting for Jon Jones to defend his light-heavyweight title against Vitor Belfort to appreciate one of the greatest fights the sport of mixed martial arts had seen at that point.
Rogan asked Johnson what he felt about being the first ever flyweight champion, and the ever-humble ‘Mighty Mouse’ seemed to still be taking it all in:
“Joseph is a great competitor, and I trained hard ya’ know, I dedicated myself to the sport. Yeah man…it happened I guess”, going on to say, “It means the world, I’ve still gotta’ improve a lot of things, and like I said, if I become champion the same thing’s gonna’ happen: I’m gonna’ go home and rest, and get back in the gym and get ready for the next battle”.
The UFC would clearly need to find some strong competition in their still-fledgling division for their newly-minted champion. Demetrious Johnson was so fast, even the quick Joseph Benavidez couldn’t get close to him consistently. Johnson had outscored the TAM product in significant strikes and takedowns, and survived a guillotine that had finished many a fighter.
The only fighter that would be able to beat Johnson was surely inconceivable: someone as fast as him? Someone faster than him? Someone more athletic than him? Someone who would actually land on him more than once a fight?
That fighter surely didn’t exist.
A Magician Appears
Before the fourteenth series of The Ultimate Fighter, John ‘The Magician’ Dodson had been a journeyman, picking up five losses, bouncing between two weights and not even able to win a fringe title like the ‘Ultimate Warrior Challenge’ flyweight title (no, me neither).
Fighting in Japan for Shooto for a single fight (only Dodson’s second) all over the States at small-town shows, Dodson’s last bout before he got accepted onto ‘TUF’ was against a fighter who would become a notable flyweight himself, John Moraga.
The bout was held in the Dominican Republic. Dodson was not paid, and later claimed the fight went well over the 15-minute limit for a three-minute round.
In short, Dodson was nowhere near the big leagues.
Even getting onto the UFC’s flagship TV show was no guarantee of success, and Dodson was a strange, goofy character, with a smile as wide as his muscular shoulders, and all manner of acrobatic celebrations coming across as strange in the quiet, scantly-populated glorified gym fights on the show.
But during the show, Dodson’s fighting did more talking for him than his exuberant personality. A physical tank at bantamweight, he was nonetheless dwarfed by the humongous (but basic) Johnny Bedford, which made the front-hand feint and accurate left cross that felled the big man like a tree shot by an anti-aircraft gun even more impressive on the small screen.
Fighting his way through to the final (no more exhibitions) Dodson would find himself across the cage from the favourite: good-looking, young and talented Team Alpha Male prospect T.J Dillashaw.
In a result that in some way looks much like Henry Cejudo’s bowling over of (the now all-time great) Dillashaw nearly eight years later, Dodson’s handspeed saw Dillashaw caught and overwhelmed in the opening round. Improbably, the journeyman who just one (official) fight before had not even been paid, was the ultimate fighter.
And the UFC were opening a new division more suited to him. A tank at bantamweight, making the cut would be arduous, but Dodson would be a physical freak at 125lbs. Like Demetrious Johnson, Dodson had a clear speed advantage against the bigger guys, but was that quick he would still be one of the fastest fighters on the roster being assembled on-the-fly (no pun intended) a weightclass below.
Dodson was even more dangerous down at flyweight, and although a decision win over relative unknown Tim Elliot was a disappointing UFC flyweight bow, with hindsight we now know a few things: Tim Elliot was teak tough and would later give a spirited performance in his own UFC flyweight title shot, and he was also built so tough that Dodson hurt his hand on Elliot’s dome.
Promotional newcomer Jussier Formiga Da Silva was the absolute best flyweight not on the UFC’s roster when John Dodson fought him on the undercard of the Travis Browne-Bigfoot Silva fight back in October, 2012.
With wins over Shooto champ Shinichi Kojima and Mamoru Yamaguchi, Formiga had beaten the best mini gladiators outside of the UFC, and he also held the equivalent ‘South American’ Shooto 123lb title, defending it once against currently relevant (as of 2020) UFC beserker Alexandre Pantoja. Formiga had only a single loss in his career, a five-round decision loss to the aforementioned Ian ‘Uncle Creepy’ McCall. He was legit.
Didn’t look all that imposing against John Dodson though: unable to get a grasp on Dodson’s speed, Formiga was stopped for the first time in his career in round two, and ‘The Magician’ showed he was the only contender out there Demetrious Johnson really had to worry about.
So Dodson was fast, he possessed legitimate one-punch knockout power, and as for wrestling it wasn’t a concern: Dodson’s athletic prowess allowed him to defend takedowns with ease and if he was taken down he was able to pop back up like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, allowing him to continue fighting to his strenghts.
In short, John Dodson was a nightmare matchup for ‘Mighty Mouse’.
“I’m the biggest D.J fan there is”, said Dodson before the fight. “I’ve been a fan of his for so long that I wanted to beat him up. I get a chance to punch him in the face and have him punch me in the face and then make it an all-out war that people wanna’ see”.
“I think he has the impression that I’m gonna’ stand there in front of him and let him hit me”, fired back the champion. “It’s not going to happen”.
Dodson was much smarter than that, as he showed in the contest.
In the first round we saw how similar both men were: twitchy, fast to the point it looked like the footage was being played at double-speed, both men able to seamlessly switch stances, both champion and challenger coming armed with a full arsenal of strikes.
Dodson used his speed to try different looks that might open Johnson up, including (but not limited to) feinting with the jab and firing the backhand downstairs and repeating the sequence only to fire the power shot upstairs. When Johnson didn’t bite, Dodson realised the need to time Johnson as he was coming in, something he did expertly before two minutes had passed, countering a kick with a short one-two that scored a flash knockdown.
Johnson then changed his approach: knowing Dodson would try and counter him again, he switched his kick midway so it went high, a smart tactic to try and catch Dodson unawares. The challenger caught the kick and dumped Johnson to the mat. For much of the round ‘Mighty Mouse’ saw himself faced with himself, chasing a ghost and hitting thin air. Dodson stepped in with a left hand as Johnson chased him which landed flush.
The champion did not seem flustered though, showing his credentials and getting back to business: he switched stances, cut off the cage, got in deep on a double leg, and completed it after a struggle with Dodson’s hips. Dodson got back to his feet without much of a struggle, but as was the way with Johnson in his prime, everything he did was a possible gateway to something else, and he smacked Dodson with an overhand right as he tried to escape his clutches.
Advantage to the challenger then.
In the second round, Johnson seemed to like the strategy he had employed towards the end of the first, getting Dodson’s back against the cage and trying to wear him out with a clinch-based attack, mixed in with takedown attempts. But the challenger was still slippery, and Johnson achieved little but an attack on Dodson’s energy reserves, a still smart tactic given the muscular change of the Albuquerque man.
In the open, Dodson was more dangerous, but a straight southpaw jab from Johnson snapped his head back. Dodson smiled, usually an indication that the recipient of a strike felt it, didn’t like it, and showed their hand too early.
In this instance he bit down into his mouthpiece, stepped into Johnson’s range and blasted him with a four-punch combination: a short right to the body, a left hook to the body, a right hook upstairs and his patented left straight that which landed square in Johnson’s face, sending him sprawling. A blistering combination that even to an educated eye requires constant replays in order to figure out exactly what happened, so the state of disarray the champion found himself in for the rest of the round is to be expected.
To his credit, Johnson seemed to find his footing quickly: but the panic was shown through his actions. He ate a left body kick from Dodson, which showed his mind was elsewhere, and then—perhaps seeking to hunt Dodson down lest he do any more damage—threw a leaping and sloppy overhand left (which was set up with a feint admittedly, but the sequence left him square) which Dodson easily sidestepped and countered with a left hook of his own.
Johnson came crashing down to the mat, his limp body making a crashing sound on the canvas little flyweights shouldn’t make. This time, Johnson was hurt for real, and Dodson’s combinations were catching him unawares. A desperation takedown was easily fended off, and Johnson found himself trapped on the feet with a knockout artist that knew how to find his chin.
Trying to keep distance with a kick, Johnson found his ankle grabbed and saw another left hand crack him upside the head, sending him reeling, half by choice, half by force. When he attempted to get into the pocket and take away Dodson’s full extension, ‘The Magician’ simply spun out and regained his range, cracking Johnson again.
The second round then was a truly superb offensive and defensive display from Dodson, but the last ten seconds were telling: Johnson pushed the plucky challenger up against the fence, and although Dodson had superior hand position, the champion managed to get in a few hurtful looking knees to the body.
Bloodied, stunned, and looking like he had been in a real fight for the first time in a long time, Johnson went back to his corner in need of some inspiration.
Matt Hume’s advice was seemingly to stay away, or get really close.
This seemed to re-tune Johnson’s radar: although he didn’t get through the third round completely unscathed, he now got out of range after kicking or punching much sooner, not allowing Dodson time to counter him. His increased success of the feet also allowed for greater success on his takedown attempts. Johnson was not outright winning the fight by the end of the third round, but in listening to his corner and making the necessary adjustment he had avoided an outright failure that looked certain by the end of the second.
An illegal knee from Johnson in the fourth brought upon a lull in the action as Dodson was checked out, but both men got back to work quickly after the re-start. The bout then started to swing completely in the champion’s favour, with long bouts of positional control in the clinch punctuated late with a short right elbow that seemed to shake Dodson up.
‘Mighty Mouse’ had formulated an antidote to Dodson’s poison, and in the fifth round he deployed it, dominating and destroying Dodson in the clinch with elbows, punches, and brutal knees when he locked in the double collar tie, emptying ‘The Magician’s box of tricks and leaving his secrets exposed to the world.
Johnson landed some of the best boxing combinations ever seen in a cage after obliterating Dodson in the clinch, and only the inherent toughness of the journeyman-turned-dangerman saw him survive the fight on his feet. Dodson smiled, as he did in the second round: this time it really was to hide how much pain he was in.
Winner by unanimous decision, this significance of this win for D.J might be lost on newer fans of the sport: the adjustments he made and the adversity he came through against a challenger seemingly designed to beat him, make this victory one of the more impressive in UFC title history.
This was not a Hail, Mary shot to change the tide. This was genius at work.
For those that may have only seen Dodson in his recent fights, or for those that hold Dodson’s recent fights against him so much they have forgotten the form he showed in his prime, make no mistake: Your favourite fighter probably hasn’t beaten anyone this good, and if they have it’s almost certainly universally lauded as one of the all-time great wins.
That Demetrious Johnson’s win in the first fight over John Dodson isn’t, is a crying shame.
For most fighters, this would be the peak of a great career.
For Demetrious Johnson this was only the beginning.
The Reign
With his toughest challenges on paper defeated, Demetrious Johnson would have a reign marred (in the eyes of some) as having been fought against unworthy challengers.
This is something I call ‘The Klitschko Effect’: With only one ‘big’ fight in a division (or in the heavyweight landscape the Klitschko brothers reigned over, two) the challengers often skipped the line and found themselves in title shots rather than facing each other first to establish a bona fide contender.
In looking at the record-setting reign by Johnson, this is somewhat true. Certainly the likes of Dagestani sambist Ali Bagautinov, Phoenix native John Moraga, awkward TUF winner Tim Elliot and speedy Ray Borg were not without talent, but the likes of Chris Cariaso and Wilson Reis are on the lower end of the scale in terms of UFC title challengers.
Bearing in mind of course that being 125lbers, the lower end of the scale is still much higher than the lowest ebb of title challengers at 205lbs and above.
But there were at least a few challengers already proven enough that they are excellent scalps for the first ever UFC flyweight champ.
First, the inevitable rematch with Joseph Benavidez, flyweight tournament finalist and two-time world title challenger.
Benavidez had bounced back with three excellent wins: former lineal champ Ian McCall (unanimous decision), the skilled and well-travelled Darren Uyenoyama (second round TKO) and Jussier Formiga on the comeback trail (first round TKO).
Benavidez was as ready for a title rematch as anyone had ever been, fighting and beating ranked opposition in impressive form. Of course, he had been very competitive—if well beaten—in his first fight with Demetrious Johnson.
Inexplicably, ‘Mighty Mouse’ had improved since the first Benavidez fight, even taking into account the tough task he had with John Dodson: Benavidez—never finished before or since—was opened up with a left jab, cracked with a short right, laid out, and pummelled with ground-and-pound too quick for a referee intervention.
A a little over two minutes into the first round, Johnson had wasted one of his most talented contemporaries. To this day, it is the Demetrious Johnson performance this writer is most in awe of, even over his comeback win over John Dodson. Knocking out Benavidez was improbable, and even in retrospect seems unbelievable.
Next, Kyoji Horiguchi: the Japanese sharp-shooter was 15-1, had won the Shooto ‘bantamweight (123lbs) title and already had excellent wins under his belt in domestic standouts Shintaro Ishiwatari and Hiromasa Ogikubo, and a knockout over former Tachi Palace Fights flyweight champ Darrell Montague. 4-0 in the UFC (with two finishes) he was amongst the brightest sparks in a division finding its feet with relatively unknown talent.
The question of whether Horiguchi was ready for a title shot is a good one, but the fact of him being a world-class fighter is not up for debate. Those who question this are surely unaware of the excellent work he had already done in Shooto, and the bout with Ishiwatari (an established fighter who is to this day a superb operator) was a five-round title fight: Horiguchi won by knockout in the fifth round, showing if nothing else that he was a championship-calibre fighter.
In the weird and somewhat cyclical world of MMA, Horiguchi was a protege of Johnson’s first major scalp, ‘Kid’ Yamamoto, and had been training at Krazy Bee gym for his whole career.
So, a dangerous opponent from a reputable school with a solid level of opposition.
What’s not to like?
The main issues around Horiguchi as an opponent seem to stem from his own comments that he himself was not ready to challenge for the title. By the time fight week came around, he was more confident, and both champion and coach were not taking the young Japanese challenger for granted:
"I am ready," Horiguchi said, solemnly, with a reassuring nod.
At this point, he has no choice but to believe that. The champion doesn’t put much stock into Kyoji’s humble comments from a few months ago, however.
"No, I think he was just being humble," Johnson tells us.
"It is what you say – ‘Oh, I can improve, I could do to have a few more fights.’ He’s a humble guy. I think he’s real hungry for this opportunity, though. And, he’s been beating a lot of people and has a long winning streak. He believes he’s ready."
Johnson’s coach Matt Hume agrees and lets us know that the champion’s team isn’t underestimating Horiguchi. "He’s a very good fighter," Hume says.
"He’s on a very good winning streak and he has power in his strikes."
Horiguchi would end up putting in a spirited shift, but lacked the ability to create any real success for himself. After bossing much of the bout, Johnson snatched an arm and got the submission with just a second left on the clock. The poor Japanese prospect could not survive another second with the champion. This is not a knock on Horiguchi, but rather a nod to Johnson’s all-round ability at this stage of his career.
This is proven by the dominant display he put on against John Dodson in his next fight. The niceties and mutual respect of their first fight were a long-distant memory after the battle they had been through. Similarly, gone was the man who went down and had to pull it out of the bag with a clinch-heavy display in the fifth round. Johnson seemingly graduated from the Ivy League of MMA schooling after his toughest test and never looked back, turning away Dodson with scores of 49-46 (twice) and 50-45. Mid-way through the fight Johnson dismissed Herb Dean when he was hit by a low blow, preferring instead to continue with his shellacking of a technically out-gunned and physically out-manned Dodson. This remains the outright coldest display of Johnson’s career, a perfect blend of his professionalism and a nastiness which he rarely displayed. Dodson would never contend for a title again and would never make the cut to 125lbs again, the toughest challenger for the champion realising he was too far off mounting a decent challenge again.
The last of the victories that stand out in the reign was against Olympic gold medalist Henry Cejudo, and who would ever have thought after their first fight that Cejudo would go on to achieve so much…and that he would go on to defeat Johnson himself.
Unlike Benavidez and Dodson, Cejudo certainly didn’t show anything in his first world title challenge that suggested he would eventually usurp the throne: he got an early takedown on Johnson, was kicked off with little issue, and then drowned under the same wave of knees that Dodson just about managed to stay float under.
Dodson had been through a grueling title fight. Cejudo capitulated at 02:49 of the first round.
Cejudo would undoubtedly improve after this, but he was already battle-tested, having faced some decent opponents (such as Chico Camus, Dustin Kimura, Chris Cariaso and the superb Jussier ‘Formiga’) and sporting a shiny 10-0 record to go alongside his shiny Olympic gold medal.
But was he at his peak? The answer for me would be no, but the ruthlessly efficient performance from Johnson elevates it to a more impressive, important and legacy-defining win.
Especially with what was to come.
But more on that later. First, we must return to the question posed at the beginning of this section: Do some of Johnson’s challengers fall under the Klitschko effect banner? It’s fair to say they do, but these key victories—as well as the fights discussed in the parts of this article before ‘The Reign’—should surely demonstrate that Demetrious Johnson’s flyweight run was just about as astounding as any fighter in MMA has ever managed. Perhaps the only knock on his reign is that he never defended against the ultra-talented Jussier ‘Formiga’ Da Silva, but then ‘Formiga’ was almost always fighting the best of the best and never quite able to put himself in position to challenge for the belt. To date, ‘Formiga’ has six losses on his resume: Demetrious Johnson has defeated every fighter on that list.
One of Formiga’s conquerors was a brash Olympic gold medalist. Johnson had already hammered him into submission.
He ended up being the only man below 135lbs Johnson ever saw have his hand raised against him.
The ‘Defeat’, and the Disrespect
‘Incompetent judges brought down the UFC's greatest fighter ever’, read the headline to USA Today’s summary of Henry Cejudo’s split decision victory over Johnson at UFC 227.
It’s very hard to make a case for Cejudo winning the rematch: Johnson outstruck him, he was more active, and despite getting in some advantageous positions the challenger then known as ‘The Messenger’ was unable to deliver much in the way of damaging blows.
Certainly, nearly all the rounds were competitive, and one could even make a case for them being closely-contested. They were also fought at a fast pace, which might have made it difficult for judges to correctly assess what was actually happening.
But that’s their jobs. For two judges to have an off-night (going off the hypothesis that Cejudo didn’t deserve to win) is unfortunate at the best of times. For these two scorecards to end the reign of a record-breaking champion is even more unfortunate.
Could it be that Cejudo—dismissed so easily in his first title challenge and a clear underdog second time round—was given credit for performing better than expected against a dominant, seemingly unbeatable challenger?
Another question is whether Johnson deserved a 10-8 round; certainly it’s difficult for us to comprehend a 10-8 round unless a fighter sustains serious damage without mounting any of their own, but Johnson outstruck, outslicked, and out-manned Cejudo in the first round without return. All three judges had the first round to Johnson, getting the winner of that round unanimously correct at least, but did the defending champ deserve more?
In the wake of a big title fight ending in an upset, the media often looks straight to UFC President Dana White for reflection.
Would the UFC figurehead be happy at this seemingly unexpected turn of events?
At the post-fight presser White first seemed pretty neutral regarding the decision:
“Yeah. It’s incredible what he’s done. And tonight’s fight was close. I don’t know how you guys scored it but I had it 2-2 going into that last round, but who gives a shit what I think, but that’s how I had it. Very close fight. First of all, what a technical battle that fight was. Both guys are so incredibly talented. And, um, how much better Henry Cejudo is now from the first time he fought Demetrious Johnson is impressive.”
But after Cejudo expressed a desire to fight then-bantamweight champ T.J Dillashaw, White seemed more excited in the new champion than the recently deposed Johnson:
“I love guys that wanna fight everybody. I love guys who are willing to jump in, and I think the fans love guys like that too. So that’s always good to hear, I love; I don’t know but we’ll see what’s next and we’ll figure it out. But you know, the reason Conor McGregor’s such a huge star is cause he’s that guy – he’ll do that and jump around and fight anywhere and fight anybody, and when you have that mentality, people like it.”
Knowing White’s love for McGregor and reported disdain at Mighty Mouse’s refusal to take on Dillashaw in a proposed ‘champ-champ superfight’ you have to think that White was happy now UFC gold was round Cejudo’s waist.
What transpired after lends credence to that theory.
In one of the most baffling decisions the UFC has ever made, they agreed to trade their legendary champion Demetrious Johnson to Singapore-based ONE FC for their (apparently retired) welterweight champion Ben Askren.
Now, Ben Askren was somewhat of a name, was an Olympian, had received exposure on U.S TV when Bellator welterweight champion, and had an online presence sure to make some noise due to his mouthy, trash-talking persona.
The only return Dana White saw on the trade was making a household name out of Jorge Masvidal, who smashed Askren in four seconds.
Askren flaked out of the UFC and retired for good with a 1-2 record, the single win being due to a referee error in a bout he was getting annihilated in.
Perhaps Dana White’s supposed dislike of Demetrious Johnson was overblown though. However much he wanted to make a match-up between his flyweight and bantamweight champions, and however many boos the champion got during his six year reign, White signed off on material describing Johnson as the pound-for-pound best, the UFC showcased Johnson on national television, they had him headlining pay-per-views.
On the same night White seemed to be relieved of Johnson’s title reign finally being over, he also angrily dismissed a reporter who claimed the lower weight experiment had been a failure for the UFC:
“Listen, I think the popularity of the flyweights was there tonight. I mean, what more do we need? I told you the place was packed with A-list celebrities, sold out The Staples Center, you know, the small guys did almost a $3 million gate tonight with a sold-out Staples Center. And the crowd was very into that fight, it’s the “Fight of the Night,” and I think that when you saw scrambles with these guys, the crowd reacted to ’em, they were very educated on what was going on.”
“I mean, I think we’re there, and I think that Demetrious Johnson’s reign, and what he’s done, and I’ve talked about this to many of you this week, this guy not only got better with every fight but he started finishing people in spectacular fashion. And I think that from the walk-in to their announcement that Buffer gave ’em to the fight to the end, the crowd loved it and they were into it, and you know, it was a very successful night.”
So did Dana White just see an opportunity to move on from the shackles a dominant champion placed on the flyweight division and pursue a different route with the lower weights? The fight game is a business after all.
Proven so by one of many contradictory statements White has spat out over the years. Whilst he vehemently defended the first-ever flyweight champion moments after he had his title snatched from him, after White was questioned about the trade with ONE FC, he took a different tact:
“Every time he (Johnson) fought he was exciting and he always went for the finish, but people didn’t care. Nobody cared whatsoever about Demetrious Johnson. Henry Cejudo might be that guy that people care about.”
So if we take this comment at face value, the UFC were probably quite happy Henry Cejudo was beneficiary of some arguably dodgy scorecards.
Bear in mind that as much as hardcore fans loved ‘Mighty Mouse’, and as much as the UFC tried to promote him (seriously, he headlined pay-per-views and FOX cards, Dana White didn’t want them to fail) the numbers actually show that for as successful he was in the cage, Johnson’s virtuoso performances were not translating into big business.
Friend of The Fight Site Mookie Alexander, writing for Bloody Elbow in the wake of Johnson’s (seemingly) hotly-anticipated rematch with John Dodson:
Unfortunately for "Mighty Mouse", his decision win over Dodson was a total disaster as far as ticket sales. While the reported attendance was 10,873, the live gate of $1.3 million is (per MMA Junkie's Mike Bohn) the lowest total for a Vegas-based UFC pay-per-view in 11 years:
You can also obviously conclude that the UFC handed out plenty of comp tickets on fight night. When you combine an unpopular champion with minimal marketing and a main card without any considerable modern day draws, the end result isn't "prettier than a motherf**ker". Here are Johnson's last 4 gate totals:
vs. Dodson (Las Vegas) - $1.3 million
vs. Horiguchi (Montreal) - $668,000
vs. Cariaso (Las Vegas) - $2.2 million (Note: Card had Cerrone-Alvarez and McGregor-Poirier, original main event was Jones-Cormier)
vs. Bagautinov (Vancouver) - $1.14 millionAs things stand, Johnson is the holder of the lowest Vegas PPV gate and worst selling PPV of the TUF era (UFC 174 vs. Bagautinov). One must wonder if we'll see Johnson headlining another pay-per-view for the UFC, and instead return to cable shows (or Fight Pass).
So perhaps the UFC had some reasoning behind their apparent happiness to do away with Johnson as soon as he lost the belt. And not everything is black and white either, and was it all one-sided anyway? Johnson wasn’t cast away, he was sent somewhere he wanted to be, to ONE Championship where his mentor Matt Hume was.
Just not somewhere the majority of MMA fans I have spoken to wanted to see him. For those MMA fans, the loss of Demetrious Johnson from the UFC’s ranks was a loss to the sport of MMA.
Since joining ONE FC, Johnson has gone 3-0 against fighters with little experience and little name value. He is a ‘flyweight’ in name only, competing at the ONE FC limit of 135lbs, supposedly for safer weight cuts.
He is utterly wasted in an organisation bereft of talent, when all of his most skilled and battle-tested peers are back in his stomping grounds (and I don’t mean Alaska). Even in the Far East where he now makes his profession, there is far more exciting fights out there for him in RIZIN, and Johnson seems isolated from any legacy-building fights that could see him move further up our list. Not that Johnson might have found it plain sailing had he stuck around in the UFC anyway. For much of the time since his departure the division he reigned over for so long was subject to rumours it was not long for this world.
For the fighter he will always be linked to (for better or worse) it was Johnson’s fault that the division was at danger of being cut.
Henry Cejudo put the blame squarely at Johnson’s feet:
Not that Johnson outwardly seemed to mind that much. When pressed on his thoughts after the UFC finally got their flyweight vs. bantamweight champions clash (Henry Cejudo vanquishing a weight-drained T.J Dillashaw in the first round) he was his usual positive self:
“It was never my division, it’s the UFC’s division,” Johnson said. “I’ve moved on to bigger and better things, in my opinion. I am legitimately happy for Henry Cejudo, T.J. Dillashaw and the flyweight division. Once I became part of ONE Championship, that’s where my focus went. But I’m happy for the opportunity those guys got. They deserve it.”
Whatever the reasoning and whatever the result, whoever is to blame, there can be no doubt that for one of the sport’s greatest ever fighters, the way his UFC tenure ended was disrespectful.
Demetrious Johnson deserved better then, but as we will see in the concluding part of this journey, his legacy is already secure.
Legacy
Even with Demetrious Johnson failing to catch on as a crossover star, there can be zero doubt that he was a very exciting fighter, and the records he set may not hold forever but as of right now are about as impressive achievements as you will find in the thirty-plus year history of the sport.
Three ‘Fight of the Night’ awards, four ‘Performance of the Night’ awards, one ‘Submission of the Night’ award, and one ‘Knockout of the Night’ award
The most consecutive UFC title defences in history, with eleven
Tied for the latest submission in UFC history (4:59 of round 5 against Horiguchi)
The only man to finish Joseph Benavidez and Henry Cejudo
And the UFC traded him!
Perhaps most tellingly, over a year since his last bout for the UFC, Henry Cejudo managed one defence of the flyweight title. He then moved up to take the bantamweight title. You could argue that Cejudo was Johnson’s equal, but you could equally argue that Johnson deserved to win the rematch. Could it be that the fighter who sat atop two of the UFC’s most talent-laden divisions was a lesser fighter than the one that sits here, at number three on The Fight Site’s greatest list?
Almost certainly.
Perhaps even more interesting is the fact that Joseph Benavidez (the 16th ranked fighter on our list) is due to fight for the now vacant UFC flyweight title, which for fans means that the division is seemingly safe at last. It may be that by February, there will have been three UFC flyweight champions: Johnson was the first, and smashed both the second and third inside the first round.
Even on the other side of the world, the spectre of Demetrious Johnson’s record-breaking reign hangs heavy over the UFC’s lightest weight classes. It is a testament to not just the longevity of his title run, but of his supreme talent.