The Middleweight Chessboard: Du Plessis, Strickland, and the Art of Strategic Bragging
The UFC’s middleweight division is a game of chess, not checkers. And right now, Dricus du Plessis is playing the long game—with a smirk. After Sean Strickland dethroned Khamzat Chimaev at UFC 328, du Plessis didn’t just applaud; he crowned himself ‘world champion again.’ Bold? Absolutely. But what makes this particularly fascinating is the psychological chess behind it.
The Unspoken Hierarchy of Wins
Du Plessis has two wins over Strickland. Strickland has one over Chimaev. And Chimaev has one over du Plessis. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a triangle of victories—it’s a hierarchy of legitimacy. Du Plessis’s claim to the throne isn’t about belts; it’s about narrative. By declaring himself champion, he’s rewriting the script. Personally, I think this is less about ego and more about strategy. He’s positioning himself as the shadow king, the man who beat the man who beat the man.
Strickland’s Win: A Victory for Underdogs or a Fluke?
Strickland’s win over Chimaev was a masterclass in endurance and tactical grit. But let’s be honest—Chimaev looked like a fighter who underestimated his opponent. What many people don’t realize is that Strickland’s style is deceptively effective. He’s not flashy, but he’s relentless. Du Plessis, however, isn’t buying into the hype. His post-fight comments were less about praise and more about validation. ‘I told you so’ was practically written on his face.
The Chimaev Factor: A Fallen King or a Sleeping Giant?
Chimaev’s loss raises a deeper question: Was he overhyped, or did he simply have an off night? From my perspective, Chimaev’s dominance was built on fear—fear of his power, fear of his wrestling. Strickland exposed a flaw: Chimaev’s cardio. If you can survive the early storm, he becomes human. This isn’t just a loss; it’s a blueprint for future opponents. And du Plessis, who fell to Chimaev last year, is surely taking notes.
Du Plessis’s Next Move: The Usman Wildcard
Reports of a potential clash with Kamaru Usman are intriguing. Usman, a welterweight legend, would be a massive test for du Plessis. But here’s the thing: du Plessis doesn’t need to win to stay relevant. He’s already in the conversation. A fight with Usman would be less about the belt and more about legacy. Personally, I think this is du Plessis’s way of saying, ‘I’m not just a champion—I’m a contender in any division.’
The Strickland-Imavov Matchup: A Foregone Conclusion?
Strickland is expected to defend his title against Nassourdine Imavov later this year. On paper, it’s a tough fight for Imavov. Strickland’s style is a nightmare for anyone who relies on momentum. But here’s where it gets interesting: If Strickland wins, du Plessis’s claim to the throne becomes even stronger. If Imavov wins, the division is thrown into chaos. Either way, du Plessis wins by staying in the conversation.
The Bigger Picture: MMA’s Narrative Wars
What this really suggests is that MMA is as much about storytelling as it is about fighting. Du Plessis’s self-coronation isn’t just a boast—it’s a narrative play. He’s not waiting for the UFC to hand him a title shot; he’s creating his own momentum. In a sport where perception is reality, this kind of strategic bragging can be just as powerful as a knockout punch.
Final Thoughts: The Game Within the Game
If there’s one thing that immediately stands out from this saga, it’s the intellectual layer beneath the violence. Du Plessis, Strickland, and Chimaev aren’t just fighters—they’re players in a high-stakes game of chess. Du Plessis’s claim to the throne is a move, not a mistake. And whether he gets the belt back or not, he’s already won the narrative.
As I reflect on this, I can’t help but think: In MMA, sometimes the smartest fighter isn’t the one with the belt—it’s the one who knows how to play the game.
