Islam Makhachev’s Dominance and Legacy After UFC 322 Victory

Makhachev’s Historic Welterweight Title Win

Look, I’ve covered combat sports for over a decade, and what Islam Makhachev just pulled off at UFC 322 doesn’t happen often. The Dagestani fighter moved up an entire weight class—15 pounds—and absolutely dismantled Jack Della Maddalena to claim the welterweight title. Here’s what made it genuinely shocking: Della Maddalena wasn’t some tomato can. The Australian was defending his belt for the first time. Yet Makhachev controlled him on the ground for 19 minutes and 10 seconds^[1]—that’s more than 76% of the entire fight. All three judges scored it 50-45^[2]. Shut out. Completely shut out. What we’re watching is the emergence of a fighter who’s operating at a different tier than his competition. The wrestling dominance wasn’t luck; it was systematic, deliberate destruction of Della Maddalena’s game plan.

Comparing Makhachev and Khabib’s UFC Achievements

The numbers tell an interesting story when you stack Makhachev against his mentor. Khabib Nurmagomedov was legendary—undefeated, untouchable at lightweight. But here’s the thing: Khabib never held titles in two divisions. Makhachev just became the 11th fighter in UFC history to do it^[3]. At 34 years old, moving up from lightweight to welterweight, he didn’t just compete—he dominated. Consider the striking: 140 total strikes out of 188 attempts, a 74% accuracy rate^[4]. Della Maddalena managed only 30 strikes in 25 minutes^[5]. That’s not close competition; that’s a masterclass in fight control. What separates Makhachev from other multi-division champions is the margin of victory. Most fighters who chase second belts get tested. Makhachev made his opponent look ordinary. The gap between them resembled a championship bout versus sparring session.

Technical Breakdown: Targeting Della Maddalena’s Calf

Watch the tape closely and you’ll notice something most analysts missed: Makhachev spent the entire five-round affair systematically destroying Della Maddalena’s right calf. By round three, the Australian’s movement was visibly compromised. By round four, he was limping. This wasn’t accidental—it was calculated targeting. I’ve seen high-level wrestling before, but the precision here was different. Makhachev would take him down, control position, then deliberately work the leg while Della Maddalena had nowhere to escape. The defending champion’s visible agony in the championship rounds told you everything about how one-sided this matchup had become. What’s fascinating is how few people caught this specific element during live commentary. The dominant wrestling got attention, sure, but the methodical calf attack? That’s the kind of technical detail that separates pound-for-pound elite from merely excellent fighters. Della Maddalena came prepared for a wrestling battle. He didn’t anticipate the specific anatomical targeting that would progressively neutralize his defensive movement.

What’s Next for Makhachev’s UFC Legacy?

Everyone’s calling this historic, and they’re not wrong, but here’s what they’re missing: Makhachev’s real legacy moment hasn’t happened yet. Yes, becoming a multi-division champion is massive^[6]. Yes, he tied Anderson Silva’s 16-fight win streak^[7]. But let’s be honest—the heavyweight division is where actual GOAT conversations happen. Makhachev’s 28-1 record^[8] is stellar, but he’s operating at welterweight and lightweight. The question isn’t whether he’s great; it’s whether he’ll ever face the ultimate test. Moving up another division? Unlikely. But here’s the problem: staying at welterweight means defending against challengers, and eventually someone’s going to figure out the formula. No fighter dominates forever. Makhachev’s next chapter determines if this UFC 322 victory is a career peak or just another chapter in something genuinely transcendent. The pressure now isn’t on him to prove he can beat Della Maddalena. It’s on him to prove he can beat everyone else repeatedly.

Khabib’s Coaching Influence on Makhachev’s Success

I’ll admit something I got wrong for years: I underestimated how much Khabib’s coaching shaped Makhachev’s trajectory. Watching UFC 322, you see Khabib’s fingerprints all over the game plan. The wrestling base, the ground control philosophy, the patient pressure—that’s the Nurmagomedov system in action. But here’s where it gets interesting: Makhachev surpassed his mentor in nearly every statistical category^[9]. Khabib never had to move up two weight classes because he dominated so thoroughly at lightweight that there was nowhere higher to go. Makhachev chose the harder path. After winning at lightweight, he voluntarily moved to welterweight instead of resting on an undefeated legacy. That decision—that ambition—that’s where Makhachev becomes his own fighter. Khabib gave him the foundation. The wrestling, the discipline, the mental toughness. But stepping into the welterweight cage against Della Maddalena and executing that perfectly? That’s Makhachev’s signature now. The student didn’t just learn the system; he evolved it.

Della Maddalena’s Struggles in First Title Defense

Jack Della Maddalena walked into Madison Square Garden as a defending champion with momentum. He walked out shut out completely. The Australian’s wrestling defense was the first problem—he got taken down repeatedly and couldn’t create separation. But that’s not the real issue. Real talk: Della Maddalena’s first title defense was against arguably the most accomplished wrestler on the roster. That’s a dangerous debut. Most first-time title defenders face someone in their tier, someone they’ve seen before stylistically. Not Della Maddalena. He got Makhachev. The scorecards read 50-45, 50-45, 50-45^[10]—unanimous dominance. What’s brutal about this matchup is that Della Maddalena’s striking prowess, his speed, his footwork—none of it mattered. Makhachev negated those advantages by controlling the fight on the ground from start to finish. For a welterweight champion who’d been rising rapidly, this serves as a harsh reminder: elite wrestling at the UFC level still trumps most other skill sets. Della Maddalena learned an expensive lesson about matchmaking and career timing.

Striking vs Wrestling: The True Story of UFC 322

People love to say fights are close until someone shows you the actual statistics. UFC 322’s striking numbers destroy that narrative instantly. Makhachev landed 140 strikes out of 188 total attempts—a 74% accuracy rate^[4]. Della Maddalena? Thirty strikes across the entire fight^[5]. Let’s put that in perspective: the champion was hitting roughly once per minute while his challenger was landing six times per round. That’s not competitive striking; that’s one-directional dominance. But here’s where people get it wrong—they focus on those numbers and assume striking was the story. It wasn’t. The ground control told the real story. Makhachev controlled the fight for over 19 minutes^[1], which meant Della Maddalena spent most of the bout either on his back or defending takedowns. When you’re fighting from a position of constant desperation, your striking output collapses. The striking disparity wasn’t the cause of Makhachev’s dominance; it was a symptom. The real weapon was wrestling. The striking numbers just proved how thoroughly that wrestling shut down everything else.

How Makhachev Overcame the Weight Class Challenge

Here’s the question everyone should be asking: How does a fighter move up 15 pounds and immediately become champion? Makhachev didn’t just compete at welterweight^[11]—he absolutely demolished the division’s defending titleholder. Most fighters who jump weight classes struggle initially. They face size, strength, and adjustment periods. Not Makhachev. His wrestling translated perfectly. His cardio held up completely. His technical execution never wavered. What this tells you about elite-level combat sports is something important: fundamentals matter more than size. Makhachev’s wrestling base was so sound that the weight difference became irrelevant. He still controlled Della Maddalena on the ground for over 76% of the fight^[1]. Still landed strikes at 74% accuracy^[4]. Still won every single round on all three scorecards^[2]. For fighters considering jumping divisions, Makhachev’s blueprint is worth studying. It’s not about gaining strength; it’s about bringing elite technique to a new weight class and imposing your will immediately. He did exactly that. The size gap? Erased by superior wrestling. The experience gap? Erased by superior conditioning. The confidence gap? Makhachev entered like he already owned the place.

Makhachev’s Late-Career Peak and Notable Victories

At 34 years old, holding two UFC titles simultaneously, Makhachev is rewriting what late-career peaks look like in combat sports. His 28-1 professional record^[8] puts him in rare air. The 16-fight win streak ties Anderson Silva^[7]—arguably the greatest middleweight ever. Those are the kinds of numbers you see on fighters’ Wikipedia pages decades after retirement. Makhachev’s still fighting. He defended the lightweight title four consecutive times as of January^[12]—a record that speaks to sustained dominance. Then, instead of coasting, he moved up and won another belt. Consider his sizable victories: Alexander Volkanovski twice, Charles Oliveira, Dustin Poirier, Arman Tsarukyan, Dan Hooker^[13]. That’s not a list of lucky wins; that’s a highlight reel of the best fighters in two weight classes. What makes UFC 322 historically sizable isn’t just that Makhachev became a multi-division champion^[3]. It’s that he did it at an age when most fighters are declining. Most guys are thinking about retirement. Makhachev’s thinking about legacy. The records he’s setting now will define how his entire career is remembered.

Makhachev’s Post-Fight Reflections on His Dominance

Right after UFC 322, Makhachev spoke about what this moment represented to him. ‘This is the dream,’ he said. ‘All my life for these two belts. I’m really happy, and the belt’s so heavy—and I like it. I worked hard for this moment.’^[14] That’s not someone reading from a script; that’s genuine emotion about accomplishment. He also addressed his wrestling dominance: ‘All my opponents know this and nobody can stop it.’^[15] Confidence isn’t arrogance when the evidence backs it up, and the evidence here is overwhelming. What’s impressive about Makhachev’s post-fight mentality is the clarity. He knows exactly what makes him dangerous. He knows his wrestling is his foundation. He’s not trying to be a well-rounded fighter in the sense of balancing skills equally; he’s a specialist who’s so good at his specialty that nothing else matters. That’s champion-level thinking. Most fighters spend years trying to improve weaknesses. Makhachev perfected his strength to the point where weaknesses become irrelevant. The dream he described—holding two belts at the highest level of MMA—that’s now his reality. At 34. With more achievements potentially ahead.