I keep reading this like it’s some cautionary tale. “Tried this, tried that, weird ride, baggage, newborn, mileage.” And all I hear is the same noise that always comes out when an actual outlier shows up and refuses to fit the comfortable script.
Let’s slow this down.
This isn’t some regional heavyweight who discovered wrestling late. This is Gable Steveson. Olympic gold at 20. One of those A-level athletes who doesn’t need MMA to legitimize him—MMA raises its ceiling when athletes like this walk in. And suddenly the issue is that he understands the transition problem better than most of the people doubting him?
Listen to what he’s actually saying. He’s not talking about spamming folkstyle takedowns and hoping for mercy. He’s talking about MMA wrestling. Cage mechanics. Shot selection. Hand threats. Guillotine awareness. That’s not ignorance—that’s someone who’s studied the failure points and decided not to repeat them.
The references matter too. Islam Makhachev. Khamzat Chimaev. Pressure first. Threat stacking. Wrestling that forces striking reactions. That’s the modern blueprint, and he’s acknowledging it before he’s even in the cage.
And then there’s the part people keep skirting around: mentorship.
When Jon Jones is publicly investing time, advice, and belief in you, that’s not a coincidence. That’s not clout-chasing. That’s the most accomplished mixed martial artist of this era recognizing a transferable ceiling. Jones doesn’t hand out validation lightly, his entire career is built on identifying advantages early and exploiting them ruthlessly. If someone like that sees value, it tells you the raw material isn’t theoretical.
The heavyweight concern trolling is the funniest part. “Mileage.” “Age.” “Can he take body shots?” Meanwhile this division accelerates athletes with half the base, worse gas tanks, and zero grappling depth because the bar simply isn’t as high. It’s how the division has functioned for years.
People want prospects to arrive broken, desperate, and grateful. This one shows up confident, literate, and already speaking the language of the sport and suddenly it’s a “weird ride.” This is what it looks like when new blood doesn’t ask permission. When the next wave isn’t impressed by how things used to be done. You don’t have to crown him today. But pretending this isn’t the most intriguing heavyweight roll of the dice in years is just denial.
When A-level athleticism, modern adaptation, and endorsement from the best to ever do it intersect, divisions change whether people are ready or not.
