Why Good Fighters Become Boring

As UFC 315 draws near, anticipation builds around the welterweight title clash between Belal Muhammad and Jack Della Maddalena. While the matchup promises high-stakes action, it also reopens an uncomfortable conversation in MMA: Why are dominant fighters like Belal often seen as boring?

Muhammad steps into the octagon riding a 10-fight unbeaten streak, a resume filled with smart, strategic victories. Yet, despite his undeniable skills and control inside the cage, he continues to face lukewarm reception from fans. The reason? Not enough finishes. Just three stoppages in 19 UFC fights.

Muhammad himself acknowledges this narrative. “If I could go into every fight and get a first-round finish, I would love that,” he said before UFC 315. “But the finishes will come at the right time. I’m dominating.”

So, if domination is what matters most in sports, why are fighters like Belal overshadowed by flashier opponents?

Modern MMA doesn’t just reward winning — it rewards spectacle. UFC, more than any other fight promotion, has marketed itself as a fusion of sport and entertainment. The ideal fighter isn’t just skilled; they finish fights, talk trash, and go viral. This environment naturally favors strikers — think Conor McGregor, Israel Adesanya, and Alex Pereira. Their knockouts are memeable moments, highlight-reel fuel.

Striking, by its nature, is more visually thrilling. A one-punch KO delivers instant gratification. Grappling, in contrast, is often nuanced, methodical, and misunderstood by casual viewers. A dominant round of positional control or submission setups can look like “just holding,” even when it’s tactical mastery.

The UFC, recognizing this, often puts its promotional muscle behind strikers. Knockouts are easier to market. The path to stardom is shorter when your fights end dramatically.

It’s a fair question. Khabib Nurmagomedov wasn’t known for wild knockouts or flashy kicks. His style was pressure-heavy, ground-dominant, and exhausting to watch for some. Yet, he became a global icon. Why?

The answer lies in narrative.

Khabib went 29-0, a record that alone demands attention. But he also had the UFC’s most high-profile rivalry in history — with Conor McGregor. That feud turned into a massive pay-per-view draw and put Khabib on the world stage.

Beyond that, Khabib’s dominance was total. He didn’t just win; he broke opponents mentally. There was something primal about the way he imposed his will. Paired with his stoic personality, cultural pride, and disciplined background, he became a symbol of focus and humility. He wasn’t just winning fights — he was building a myth.

Belal Muhammad doesn’t yet have that mythos. He’s dominant, but not destructive. He’s consistent, but not explosive. It’s the same challenge fighters like Leon Edwards faced before his head-kick KO over Usman. Greatness alone isn’t enough — it has to look good too.

This leads to a harsh reality in MMA: the better you get, the safer you fight. When careers are short, and the title picture is political, many elite fighters prioritize winning over wowing. And often, that’s when fans start to tune out.

The UFC’s matchmaking and marketing only magnify this. Strikers get fast-tracked. Wrestlers must prove themselves twice. And fans, conditioned by knockouts, can overlook true technical brilliance.

For fans: broaden your lens. MMA is a sport built on styles. There’s beauty in precision, in control, in chess-like grappling exchanges.

For promotions: tell better stories. Fighters like Belal Muhammad need narratives, rivalries, and moments that go beyond the scorecards.

And for fighters: maybe sometimes, it’s worth the risk. The legend of a fighter isn’t just built on wins — it’s built on moments people remember.

As UFC 315 unfolds, Belal Muhammad has the chance to silence critics — not just with a win, but with a performance. Whether or not he chooses to chase the finish could shape how the world remembers him.