From the opening exchanges, it was clear this wasn’t going to be clean. Gaethje brought his trademark pressure, walking Pimblett down and forcing exchanges in the pocket. Pimblett, as always, refused to back up, absorbing punishment and firing back with volume and grit.

But as the rounds wore on, the fight began to unravel.

Multiple eye pokes, a disputed groin strike, and constant referee warnings turned what should have been a technical war into something uglier. Gaethje, in particular, was accused by many fans and analysts of pushing the limits—repeatedly extending fingers, crowding space recklessly, and forcing the referee into difficult decisions.

Pimblett wasn’t innocent either. Late in the fight, he landed a groin shot of his own during what had become an all-out brawl. By that point, the bout had devolved into pure chaos—less chess match, more street fight.

Still, no one could accuse either man of quitting.

The Decision and Immediate Fallout

When the judges’ scorecards were read—48–47, 49–46, and 49–46—the arena erupted.

Gaethje emerged as the winner and interim champion, but the reaction was anything but unanimous celebration. Some praised the decision as a clear reflection of Gaethje’s pressure and damage. Others argued Pimblett’s durability, heart, and late surges deserved more credit—or even the win.

Dana White acknowledged the brutality afterward, confirming both fighters were sent for medical evaluation. Gaethje, as expected, brushed it off.

“I’ve been in plenty of wars,” he said. “I’m good.”

Pimblett, meanwhile, was taken straight to the hospital.

Respect Earned, Questions Raised

Despite the loss, Pimblett earned something he didn’t fully have before that night: universal respect.

White himself admitted Pimblett’s durability surprised him.

“I didn’t know he had a chin like that,” White said. “He’s tough. He’s durable. But the game plan wasn’t great.”

That assessment became a recurring theme in post-fight analysis. Pimblett stayed stubbornly committed to striking even when the fight demanded grappling. Many felt that refusing to lean into his submission advantage ultimately cost him the bout.

Still, the consensus was clear: Pimblett belongs at the elite level.

What the Experts Said Before the Fight

In hindsight, the divided outcome mirrored the divided predictions.

Eddie Alvarez, who knows Gaethje better than most, warned that no amount of training truly prepares a fighter for Gaethje’s pressure.

“He suffocates you,” Alvarez said. “If you don’t meet him in the pocket, you get chewed up.”

Michael Chandler, one of the rare fighters to face both men, praised Pimblett’s skill set but leaned toward Gaethje’s experience and power, calling him “a different kind of test.”

Tony Ferguson took a psychological angle, suggesting Gaethje’s history with interim belts and missed title opportunities could weigh on him—while Pimblett’s hunger might elevate him beyond his limits.

Colby Covington dismissed the odds entirely, insisting Gaethje’s pressure would eventually overwhelm Pimblett.

On the other side, Sean O’Malley confidently backed Pimblett, predicting his grappling would be the difference and even calling a potential rear-naked choke finish.

They couldn’t all be right—but they were all validated in one way or another.

Violence, Experience, and Missed Opportunities

Ultimately, the fight became exactly what many predicted: a collision between chaos and calculation.

Gaethje landed the heavier shots, absorbed punishment to give punishment, and forced Pimblett into uncomfortable exchanges. Pimblett showed heart, chin, and flashes of brilliance—but also paid for defensive lapses, particularly his vulnerability to left hooks.

The result felt less like a robbery and more like a brutal coin flip decided by experience.

For Gaethje, the win strengthens his case—but also raises questions. Another interim belt. Another war. Another debate about whether he’ll finally get an undisputed title shot.

For Pimblett, the loss may end up being a strange blessing. He proved he can survive the fire. Now comes the adjustment phase—smarter game plans, sharper defense, and perhaps a renewed focus on grappling.

The rivalry may be over, but the conversation isn’t.