MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Both fighters stood still and tense, waiting for the bell that would start the war.

BEEEEEP!

The fight began, and Brian wasted no time.

He rushed forward, feinting a jab before quickly firing a heavy low kick that hit against Felipe's leg.

PAHH!!

Felipe changed his steps as he tried to figure out the rhythm. As he circled, his footwork was still smooth.

Felipe responded with a crisp jab, followed by a quick combination of punches, but Brian slipped just out of range and countered with a powerful hook that grazed Felipe's chin.

It was clear from the start that Brian wasn't holding back.

"Control the distance, Felipe! Don't let him in close!" Whittier raised his voice, yelling from the corner.

Felipe moved quickly, lightly bouncing on his feet, using his light striking background to keep things standing.

He flicked a front kick toward Brian's midsection, but Brian absorbed it, moving forward under constant pressure.

Brian wasn't just swinging wildly, he was calculated.

He threw another kick, this time aimed higher, making Felipe react.

With that, Brian used the opening to dive low for a single-leg takedown, aiming to use his wrestling to bring the fight to his world.

Felipe sprawled, showing his recent improvements in defending takedowns, but Brian was relentless.

As he charged forward, his strength stood out as he powered through Felipe, lifted him, and slammed him hard onto the floor.

"Get up, Felipe! Get up!" Whittier shouted.

But Brian's wrestling was no joke.

He moved quickly to half guard, pinning Felipe's hips down, using his body weight to smother him.

Felipe squirmed beneath him, trying to create space, but Brian's control was tight.

"Smeesh him," Chemasov yelled from the corner, his deep voice booming. "Brian! Don't give space! Keep pressure!"

Brian worked to pass the guard, throwing elbows from the top, but Felipe managed to block most of them.

His BJJ instincts kicked in, and he caught Brian's arm, threatening a kimura for a split second.

But Brian, with his wrestling background, saw the threat and pulled out, standing back up and allowing Felipe to get to his feet.

"Stay light! Move, Felipe!" Whittier urged, as Felipe reset, clearly aware that he had narrowly escaped danger.

Felipe landed a sharp one-two combination, followed by a body kick that echoed through the arena.

Brian sucked in his teeth and kept going.

His pressure was starting to wear on Felipe, who was now visibly breathing heavier.

Brian launched a high kick that Felipe just managed to block, but the force sent him stumbling back into the cage.

He threw a lot of punches at Felipe while he was against the wall, hooks, uppercuts, knees, all aimed at wearing Felipe down.

Felipe covered up, blocking most of the shots, but Brian was clearly the stronger, more focused fighter at this moment.

"DON'T STAND THERE! GET OUT!" Whittier's voice rang out.

Felipe pushed off the cage, creating some distance and firing a swift jab-cross combo.

But Brian, fueled by his hunger for victory, wasn't backing down.

He moved in again, this time mixing his strikes beautifully with his takedown attempts.

Brian ducked under another jab and shot for a double-leg, scooping Felipe's legs and slamming him down hard.

"YES, BRIAN! KEEP HIM DOWN!" Chemasov roared from the corner.

Felipe fought from the bottom, his BJJ coming into play as he looked for sweeps and submissions, but Brian stayed smart, using his superior wrestling to neutralize Felipe's attempts.

He postured up, raining down heavy shots, one after another.

Felipe's face began to show signs of wear, his movements a bit slower, but he kept fighting.

He was no pushover, landing a few strikes from the bottom and managing to scramble back to his feet.

"You got this, Felipe! Keep moving!" Whittier encouraged, but even he could see that Brian was slowly taking over the fight.

Felipe threw a spinning back kick, looked like karate, but Brian timed it perfectly, catching him and driving him back into the cage again.

This time, he threw a knee to Felipe's midsection, causing him to grunt in pain.

The coaches were relentless with their calls.

Chemasov barked orders in Russian while Whittier kept trying to get Felipe to adjust, to stay away from Brian's relentless wrestling.

Felipe fired another punch, but it lacked the power from earlier in the round. Brian was still sharp, focused.

He slipped the punch and connected with a stiff jab that snapped Felipe's head back.

Brian pressed the action again, firing a series of combinations that pushed Felipe back.

It was clear that every hit and kick was meant to hurt.

Felipe was defending, but the momentum was shifting toward Brian.

"Stay with it, Felipe!" Whittier yelled, but even he knew that Brian was the one in control now.

Felipe, visibly tired, tried to rally, throwing a high kick that whizzed past Brian's head, but Brian ducked under it and went straight for a takedown, slamming Felipe onto the mat once more.

With Felipe on his back, Brian began raining down heavy ground and pound, his focus laser-sharp as he followed the game plan to perfection.
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"Finish him!" Chemasov shouted, his voice booming.

Brian postured up, delivering one more massive strike just as the bell rang.

BEEEEEEEP!

Hank Binn stepped in to separate the fighters as they both caught their breath.

The round was tough, and even though Felipe fought hard, Brian was clearly the one with the upper hand.

Whittier stepped in as Felipe sat down on the stool.

He had a serious look in his eyes that showed frustration and determination.

One of the coaches handed Felipe water, while another patted his shoulders, but Whittier wasted no time.

"This is not what we planned, Felipe," Whittier said, his tone sharp but not panicked. "You're trying to out-wrestle him. What did we say? That's his game. You don't want to play his game!"

Felipe nodded and tried to catch his breath, but it was clear that Brian's constant push had worn him out.

"Stop letting him dictate the pace! You're giving him exactly what he wants," Whittier continued, leaning in closer, his voice both firm and encouraging.

"You've got better hands, you've got better kicks, so use them! Don't engage in the clinch unless you have to, and for god's sake, keep it standing."