MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Chemasov and Whittier continued to grapple on the mat, both fighters were putting a lot of pressure on each other.

They were sweating a lot, and their muscles were burning from the constant fight for control.

Chemasov was still in top position, throwing heavy strikes, but Whittier wasn't giving up.

He bent his knees and twisted his hips to try to make space. As he worked to change the flow of the fight, he kept his face focused.

"Whittier's doing everything he can to survive here," Demien Korvier said from the commentary booth. "He knows he's in a bad spot, but he's not giving up. This is all heart from Whittier right now."

Chemasov, sensing that Whittier was beginning to gain some momentum, leaned forward, pressing his weight down harder.

But Whittier saw his opportunity. He bridged his hips hard, lifting Chemasov off balance just enough to create a gap.

In that brief moment, Whittier snaked his arm under Chemasov's chest, using a powerful sweep technique to roll Chemasov off him.

"Oh! Whittier's reversing the position!" James Nix shouted. "Beautiful sweep from Whittier!"

With a sudden burst of energy, Whittier twisted his body and flipped Chemasov over, landing himself in the dominant position.

The crowd roared as Whittier now had top control, pinning Chemasov to the mat, and immediately started working to control Chemasov's wrists to neutralize his ground-and-pound.

"Now this is interesting," Jim Logan chimed in. "Whittier's turned the tables, and Chemasov's in a tough spot for the first time in this fight."

Whittier put a lot of pressure on Chemasov and pushed him down, but Chemasov wouldn't give up.

He bucked his hips violently, using his raw strength to force Whittier off balance.

Whittier tried to maintain his position, but Chemasov kept exploding with powerful hip escapes, refusing to let Whittier get comfortable.

With one final push, Chemasov managed to slip out from under Whittier's control, scrambling to his feet.

Whittier followed quickly, not wanting to give Chemasov any time to recover.

They both stood, breathing heavily, their chests heaving from the exertion of the ground battle.

"Both men are back on their feet!" Nix shouted. "But look at Chemasov, he's looking exhausted!"

Indeed, Chemasov looked visibly fatigued, his hands hanging lower than before, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He wiped sweat from his brow, his eyes locked onto Whittier, knowing he had to make something happen before his gas tank emptied completely.

Suddenly, Chemasov charged forward with a burst of aggression, throwing one of his signature overhand rights, a punch that had finished many of his previous opponents.

The punch sailed through the air with terrifying speed and power.

"And here comes Chemasov with the right hand!" Demien yelled.

The punch connected clean on Whittier's jaw, sending a shockwave through the arena.

Whittier stumbled back, his legs wobbling as the force of the blow nearly dropped him to the canvas.

His head snapped back, his eyes blinking rapidly as he struggled to stay upright.

"Oh! Huge shot from Chemasov!" Logan shouted. "That right hand landed flush, and Whittier's in trouble!"

Whittier, on the other hand, showed his toughness and experience and managed to keep his footing.

As he stumbled backward, he threw out his arms, grabbing onto the cage for support, using it to steady himself.

He blinked away the cobwebs, taking a few steps to the side, his feet still shaky but keeping him upright.

"Whittier's hurt, but he's still in this!" Demien exclaimed. "What a chin on Whittier, he ate that punch and didn't go down!"

The crowd was on its feet now, cheering wildly for the action as the fighters circled again, both men visibly exhausted but still throwing everything they had into the fight.

When Chemasov saw that his right hand had hit Whittier but not finished him, he charged forward with all his strength, his eyes shining with determination.

He hit Whittier with a number of hard hooks and uppercuts, hoping to knock him out while he was still stunned.

Each punch had the weight of desperation behind it, as Chemasov knew that his gas tank was rapidly depleting.

Whittier, however, wasn't going to let himself be finished that easily.

His feet danced on the canvas, using his lateral movement to slip out of Chemasov's immediate range.

He bobbed and weaved, ducking under a wild hook before stepping to the side to reset.

"Chemasov is throwing bombs, but Whittier's footwork is keeping him alive!" Jim Logan exclaimed. "Look at him move, he's still sharp!"

"Yeah, but how long can Chemasov keep this pace?" Demien added. "He's throwing everything he's got, but that kind of output can drain you fast." Experience exclusive tales on mvl

Whittier, with his back against the cage for just a moment, realized Chemasov was trying to bulldoze him.

Instead of retreating further, Whittier planted his feet and exploded forward with his own signature combination, a right hand straight down the middle, followed by a crisp left hook, and then a lightning-quick head kick.

"Here comes Whittier!" Nix shouted. "He's turning the tide!"

The straight punch snapped Chemasov's head back, the left hook caught him off balance, and the head kick grazed the top of his skull.

Chemasov staggered, blinking away the force of the strikes.

His legs wobbled for a moment as he backed up, shaking his head as if trying to clear the fog.

"You don't want to trade with Whittier like that!" Demien said. "He's too precise when he gets into his rhythm."

Chemasov, now visibly fatigued and hurt, changed levels suddenly, shooting for a takedown with ferocity.

He knew his best chance was to take the fight back to the ground, where his grappling dominance could shine.

His arms wrapped around Whittier's legs as he drove forward, pushing with every bit of strength he had left.

Whittier sprawled hard, his hips dropping low as he fought to stay on his feet.

He felt Chemasov's grip tightening, but he wasn't going to give up the takedown without a fight.

He dug his elbows into Chemasov's shoulders, framing and pushing him off while hopping backward to create space.

"Whittier's defending the takedown well," Logan commented. "Chemasov's trying to get it, but Whittier's showing some great balance."

Chemasov didn't give up, though.

He clung to Whittier's legs like a pitbull, driving forward and eventually lifting him off the canvas for a brief second.

But Whittier, using his agility and quick reflexes, managed to twist his body mid-air and land on his feet, avoiding being fully planted on his back.

"Wow! Look at that balance!" Demien marveled. "Whittier just avoided disaster there."