“So… would you say the beef has been squashed? All is good?”

“No, man.”

That was it. No pause. No diplomacy. No soft landing.

With two words, Dustin Poirier made it clear that one of the most bitter rivalries in MMA history is not evolving, not healing, and not headed toward reconciliation—no matter how much time passes.

And to understand why, you have to understand how deep this feud really goes.

The rivalry between Conor McGregor and Dustin Poirier didn’t begin with punches. It began with character assassination.

At UFC 178 in 2014, McGregor didn’t just promote the fight—he attacked who Poirier was as a person. He called him emotional, mentally weak, and psychologically fragile. He framed Poirier as someone fundamentally broken on the inside, someone who would crumble under pressure because he lacked inner strength.

This wasn’t standard trash talk. It was personal.

McGregor backed it up that night, knocking Poirier out in under two minutes. Afterward, he doubled down, mocking him as fragile and reinforcing the narrative that he’d “exposed” him.

For Poirier, that loss did more than hurt his record. It forced a complete reinvention.

Poirier Rebuilds, McGregor Ascends

After the loss, Poirier changed everything. He moved weight classes. He stripped emotion from his fighting style. He became calculated, disciplined, and relentless.

McGregor, meanwhile, became the biggest star MMA had ever seen. Double champ. Thirteen-second knockout of José Aldo. The Mayweather fight. Global superstardom.

Their paths couldn’t have looked more different—but they intersected again six years later.

UFC 257: Respect, Charity, and Betrayal

When the rematch was booked for January 2021, fans were stunned by the tone. McGregor was respectful. Mature. Reflective. He praised Poirier’s growth and pledged $500,000 to The Good Fight Foundation, Poirier’s charity for underserved communities.

It looked like a rivalry that had grown up.

Then the cage door closed.

Poirier dismantled McGregor with calf kicks, took his legs away, and finished him in round two—handing McGregor his first knockout loss in MMA.

Weeks later, the truth detonated the fragile peace.

The donation never came.

Poirier went public. McGregor exploded. Twitter became a battlefield. Accusations flew. Trust evaporated. What looked like respect was exposed as paper-thin.

UFC 264: The Line That Could Never Be Uncrossed

The trilogy fight at UFC 264 wasn’t promotion—it was rage.

McGregor attacked Poirier’s charity, mocked his hot sauce brand, screamed threats so severe that security had to intervene. The charm was gone. This wasn’t calculated hype. It was raw hostility.

Then came the injury.

McGregor snapped his leg at the end of round one and collapsed. Poirier won by TKO.

And from the canvas, with doctors surrounding him and his leg bent unnaturally, McGregor crossed a line that erased any future possibility of peace.

He unleashed a tirade targeting Poirier’s wife, Jolie.

Millions watched. The comments were vile. Fighters, media, and fans condemned it instantly. Poirier later said that moment ended everything—forever.

Years of Digital Obsession

The broken leg kept McGregor out of the cage, but not out of Poirier’s life.

From 2022 through 2024, McGregor repeatedly attacked Poirier online—mocking injuries, celebrating setbacks, questioning his legacy despite losing to him twice. A pattern emerged: post, provoke, delete. Screenshots ensured nothing disappeared.

One particularly ugly incident involved a deleted tweet mocking a medical infection Poirier suffered. The backlash was immediate. The damage was permanent.

Poirier didn’t respond.

He chose silence.

And that silence spoke louder than anything McGregor posted.

The Baby Announcement That Changed Nothing

In late 2025, Dustin Poirier and his wife Jolie welcomed a baby boy.

It was a moment bigger than fighting. Bigger than rivalry.

McGregor commented: “Congrats bro.”

For a moment, people wondered—was this the olive branch?

Media speculated. Fans debated. Maybe time had softened things.

Then Ariel Helwani asked Poirier about it.

“So, would you say the beef has been squashed?”

“No, man.”

That was the answer.

The congratulations meant nothing to him.

Why Poirier Will Never Forgive

This isn’t about trash talk. It never was.

McGregor attacked Poirier’s identity.
He broke a public charity promise.
He targeted Poirier’s wife on international television.
He spent years harassing him online without accountability.

Jolie Poirier isn’t just Dustin’s wife—she’s his foundation. She wrote him letters when he was in juvenile detention. She stood by him before fame, before money, before the UFC. That relationship is sacred to him.

And McGregor chose to attack it.

That’s not something time fixes.

No Fourth Fight. No Closure. No Redemption Arc.

From a business standpoint, Poirier vs. McGregor 4 makes sense.

From a personal standpoint, it never happens.

Poirier has said it clearly: he doesn’t want that energy in his life or his retirement. He’s earned the right to choose peace over profit.

Some rivalries end with mutual respect.

This one doesn’t.

It ends with boundaries.

No handshake.
No Hall of Fame moment.
No reconciliation.

Just history—and a refusal to pretend otherwise.

This is how it ends.