MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

When Deuce Baffer moved into the middle of the cage, his voice drew everyone's attention to him.

Fans were excited about the co-main event.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Co-Main Event of the Evening!" Deuce's voice echoed throughout the arena. "This fight is scheduled for three rounds in the UFA Middleweight Division!"

The crowd erupted, their cheers shaking the venue.

"Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner! This man is a mixed martial artist holding a professional record of 17 wins, 7 losses. He stands 6 feet tall, weighing in at 185 pounds. Fighting out of Sydney, Australia…

… DONALD 'THE REAPER ' WHITTIER!"

A wave of applause and cheers followed as Whittier stepped forward, raising his hand to acknowledge the crowd.

Deuce then turned toward the opposite corner, the excitement in his voice building.

"And now, introducing his opponent, fighting out of the red corner! This man is a mixed martial artist holding a perfect professional record of 14 wins, no losses. He stands 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighing in at 185 pounds. Fighting out of Limerick, Ireland…

DAMON CROSS!"

The arena erupted into an even louder roar as Damon stepped forward, raising both arms with a slight nod to the crowd.

His face was all business, his focus locked on Whittier.

Deuce finished with his signature flair, stepping back as he concluded.

"And when the action begins, your referee in charge… Hank Binn!"

The fighters moved toward the center of the cage as the crowd's anticipation hit its peak.

Rick and Michael, the analysts, filled the mic with their expert opinions as Hank Binn spoke to the fighters in the middle of the cage.

"Rick," Michael began, his tone reflective, "as Hank Binn informs the fighters of the rules, Damon Cross comes into this fight riding an enormous wave of support."

Rick nodded, his voice steady and analytical. "Absolutely, Michael. And what's surprising here is that Donald Whittier, the former champion, is stepping into this fight as the underdog. That's not something we say often about a fighter of his caliber."

Michael leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the cage. "It's rare, and it speaks volumes about the momentum Damon has built. But I think there's an interesting dynamic at play here. Damon has the odds, the fans, and the confidence behind him. If he manages that pressure well, this could be another night of dominance for him."

Rick interjected thoughtfully, "True, but that same confidence can be a double-edged sword. If he lets it cloud his focus or allows Whittier to exploit any missteps, it could quickly turn against him. Whittier's no slouch, and he thrives when he's underestimated."

Both commentators fell silent as Hank Binn stepped back, signaling the fighters to their corners.

Michael added one final note. "This fight could go either way, Rick. It all depends on how Damon handles being the favorite and whether Whittier can tap into the experience and grit that made him a champion in the first place."

The referee, standing between the two fighters, looked at them both with an authoritative gaze. "You can touch gloves if you wish. If not, get back to your corners."

Damon and Whittier nodded at the referee's words and stepped forward, meeting in the center of the cage to tap gloves.

It was a brief gesture of respect, neither lingering nor hesitating.

He respected Whittier as a fighter, but in this moment, none of that mattered.

Damon stepped back to his corner, shaking out his arms and locking his eyes on Whittier.

There was no room for hesitation, no room for doubt.

Respect aside, his job was to destroy the man in front of him.

Whittier did the same, bouncing lightly on his feet as he readied himself.

His face was calm, but his eyes carried the intensity of a seasoned competitor.

The referee raised his hands and shouted the command.

"Ready?"

He glanced at both fighters, ensuring they were set. Your next read is at empire

"Ready?"

Both nodded, their postures sharpening.

"FIGHT!"

The bell rang, and the crowd erupted.

The bout had begun.

"And we're underway with this main card bout: Damon Cross versus Donald Whittier!" Rick's voice carried through the arena, buzzing with excitement.

"As mentioned earlier," Michael added, "this is Damon's first fight of the new year, and he's walking in with 14 straight wins. At just 22 years old, that's a staggering accomplishment. But Donald Whittier isn't here to play backup, this man knows what it takes to fight at the highest level."

Inside the cage, Damon did what he always does: he was calm, his hands were free, and his head was always moving.

Whittier was bouncing on his toes across from him, and his stance was light and quick.

Whittier tested first, shooting a quick jab that Damon slipped effortlessly.

The younger fighter responded with a teep to the body, forcing Whittier to adjust his distance.

"Nice reaction from Damon," Rick said. "But Whittier isn't letting him settle. He's testing that range early."

Whittier followed up with a feint and a low kick, landing clean on Damon's lead leg.

Damon answered with a sharp inside kick of his own, but Whittier stepped into the pocket, firing a clean one-two combination that snapped Damon's guard back.

"Donald Whittier landing solid shots here!" Michael said. "And that might be the first clean strike we've seen land on Damon in his last four or five fights!"

The crowd reacted to the moment, a mix of cheers and gasps.

Whittier pressed his advantage, darting forward with another blitz, mixing body hooks and head strikes.

Damon moved beautifully, slipping a hook and circling out, but Whittier was relentless, landing another crisp jab to the nose.

"This is the Whittier we've come to expect!" Rick exclaimed. "He's not backing down, showing no fear against a guy with Damon's momentum."

Damon adjusted, using his footwork to reset the distance.

He fired back with a quick combo of his own, a straight left followed by a spinning back kick that grazed Whittier's ribs.

Whittier countered immediately, throwing a snapping jab into Damon's guard and following up with a strong leg kick.

Both fighters exchanged strikes at a blistering pace, neither gaining a clear upper hand.

Whittier's experience showed as he timed a slip perfectly, landing a clean hook to Damon's midsection that drew a reaction.

Damon absorbed it and fired back with a crisp elbow that opened a cut above Whittier's eyebrow.

"Both men are fighting brilliantly here," Michael said. "Damon's precision is meeting Whittier's aggression, and it's making for a fantastic first round."

Damon began to find his rhythm, landing a hard teep to Whittier's chest and following up with a quick one-two.

Whittier answered with a high kick that Damon narrowly blocked, the impact echoing through the arena.

Damon stepped in with a slicing leg kick, but Whittier caught it and launched a counter straight down the pipe, landing flush on Damon's jaw.

The crowd roared as Damon staggered slightly, quickly regaining his footing.

"That was huge!" Rick shouted. "Donald Whittier landing clean again, this is a fight, folks!"

The pace quickened, with both men trading in the center of the cage.

Damon's creativity began to shine, throwing spinning kicks and elbows, while Whittier stayed composed, slipping and countering with precision.

The back-and-forth exchanges brought the crowd to their feet as the round continued.

"Neither fighter is giving an inch," Michael said.

The fight continued with calculated exchanges, both fighters showing skill without fully unleashing their arsenal.

Damon's calm demeanor clashed with Whittier's dynamic movement, creating a chess match that had the crowd on edge.

"These two are putting on a clinic," Rick said as the round neared its end. "Neither is holding back completely, but they're saving something for later."

The bell rang, and the fighters returned to their corners, the crowd erupting in cheers, eager for the next round.

"If this is just the beginning," Michael added, "the rest of this fight is going to be incredible!"