UFC 223 is the best card the Ultimate Fighting Championship has put together in a long time. Part of that has to do with the fact that it isn’t completely reliant on the main event—which is probably a good idea as we are now on the fourth booking of Tony Ferguson vs. Khabib Nurmagomedov [_Update: Ferguson has had to withdraw due to injury and will be replaced by Max Holloway_]. One of the brilliant bouts on this card which is more than worth its portion of the asking price is the mouth-wateringly unpredictable matchup between next-great-lightweight, Paul Felder and the previous next-great-lightweight, Al Iaquinta.

Narratives make fights and sometimes they are hard to come by, but the contrasts between Iaquinta and Felder couldn’t be any more obvious and out front. Ragin’ Al routinely lives up to his moniker by proving hot-headed in the cage, on the mic, after the fights, and most importantly in his negotiations with the UFC. Iaquinta’s public spats with his employer have eaten up the majority of the last few years. He was recently named interim secretary and treasurer of yet another attempt to unionize MMA fighters though given his temperament it is a title which you would hope is ceremonial. In the meantime his trips to the cage have been infrequent and most recently—in the case of knocking out a thoroughly washed up Diego Sanchez—largely pointless. In fact one of the problems of Iaquinta’s lengthy absence is that the big names on his record (Ross Pearson, Joe Lauzon) are no longer big names starting to wind down, but are now well into the twilight of their careers.

A wicked knockout against Diego Sanchez, but not a fight that needed to happen nor one that anyone was clamoring for.

Paul Felder is the perfect company man: a less shopworn version of his friend and the UFC’s golden boy, Donald Cerrone. Dana White’s claim that the best fighters in the world fight three times a year in the UFC has always been a shaky one, yet Paul Felder has competed three times a year like clockwork since his arrival in 2015. When the troublesome Francisco Trinaldo was putting together the best streak in the lightweight division, while also being forty years old, speaking no English and having zero marketability whatsoever, it was Felder who was tasked with getting rid of him. Now Felder works as a commentator for the UFC in between his regular in-ring appearances and does a very solid job.

Felder’s recent run of wins highlight what he does best. Often billed as a striker, Felder’s feet can be sluggish but where he really excels is as a hitter. If he can get his man standing still (or lying prone) he can unleash some ferocious elbows and kicks. In fact his last three victories have come by way of his elbows. Against Stevie Ray, a grueling clinch fight allowed Felder to score a knee and finish with elbows on the mat. Against Charles Oliveira, Felder spent the entire first round fighting off a D’arce attempt and a standing rear naked choke. The moment he got free he dove right back into Oliveira’s guard to push the pace on him. In the second round, Felder reversed a clinch and put Oliveira on the fence. Both on the mat and on the feet, Felder’s head was constantly being posted underneath his opponent’s, giving him superior striking position by driving the opponent upright or back into the fence.

When he jostled for head position with Oliveira, Felder felt the chance to have a swing and pulled back to crack Oliveira with a sinister elbow which saw the Brazilian sag to the mat. More elbows from guard soon finished proceedings.

On the outside, Felder’s boxing is pretty bare bones—working high lows with one-twos and pounding in the odd low kick. Felder’s fight with Daron Cruickshank demonstrated that he likes working in tit-for-tat exchanges and can get caught clean in longer exchanges when he thinks that it is his turn to move. Cruickshank had great success sneaking out the side door after a one-two and side kicking Felder in the body or even face when Felder turned to follow. The classic Wonderboy side kick set up.

Cruickshank also demonstrated Felder’s defensive shortcomings in longer exchanges: drag Felder past the one-two and he’s open for plenty of strikes in mid range. Cruickshank snuck in backhands after missed blows and broke Felder’s rhythm.

If you exclude falling victim to an incredible wall walking D’arce choke from the bottom by Mitch Clarke, Al Iaquinta’s most troublesome fight in recent years was against Jorge Masvidal. It was a typical Masvidal fight in that Masvidal looked hard to hit, made Iaquinta miss a lot, and then failed to push his advantage, losing on the scorecards. The truth of Iaquinta’s striking is that he’s right hand happy and when Masvidal controlled distance and swayed away each time Iaquinta stepped in, the right hand just couldn’t find the mark and Iaquinta had little else to make Masvidal worry. Though his jab looked much sharper in the Lauzon fight, Iaquinta would still fixate on the right, throwing five or six strikes in combination and only landing the right hand. As Jim Miller found, Joe Lauzon will often get his head down and cover rather than leave striking range when under fire. This meant that Iaquinta could work in longer and longer flurries against him until the right hand finally snuck through and landed flush.

Hypothetical Gameplans

It would be good to see Paul Felder lean on his heavy kicks and knees more in this bout. Iaquinta is pretty hittable in exchanges, but his footwork is generally light and economical. Iaquinta’s stance is considerably more bladed than Felder’s and presents his lead leg as a lovely target. Jorge Masvidal had decent success pursuing it in their fight. Another Iaquinta habit is that his elbows tend to float away from his body. Masvidal slotted in both switch kicks and stepping kicks on the open side and later used the same kick to set up an effective flurry with his hands.

Felder’s first fight in the UFC was marked by brilliant use of a switch left knee to intercept the charges of Danny Castillo. With Iaquinta constantly looking to step in for the overhand, Felder might do well to hang back on the outside and allow Iaquinta to come to him, intercepting him with knees and kicks to the midsection when possible.

It would be good to see Felder try to cut the cage and put Iaquinta against the fence. Iaquinta is a good wrestler but he hasn’t looked anything close to unstoppable on his shots in MMA. He is more likely to do crafty things like pick up a single leg and drop it to throw his right hand, or attempt a kani-basami scissor leg takedown as he did against Jorge Masvidal and Kevin Lee.

For Al Iaquinta, using the space of the cage would seem to be a good idea. His arsenal is less varied on the feet but his movement is much more spry and savvy than Felder’s. Given Felder’s tendency to plod after his opponents, drawing Felder forward and around the cage could work a treat. It would be nice to see Iaquinta take advantage of Felder’s tit-for-tat rhythm by feinting or even throwing out a couple of half-assed punches, stepping out the side door or pulling back, and returning as Felder pursues. Cruickshank did it repeatedly with the dart and side kick, but the Petrosyan/Pep skip could work a treat for the more minimalist offense of Iaquinta.

The double jab and the feint to double jab could work wonderfully for Iaquinta here and generally Ray Longo calls for a lot of feints from his fighters. Alessandro Ricci fell into a predictable rhythm in his fight with Felder and ate a gorgeous counter elbow. But this elbow, and Felder’s favorite counter knees, both require Felder to get his man’s timing. He also drops his hands when he attempts his knees; a feint and a double jab into right hand could catch Felder on the end of Iaquinta’s right hand and on one leg—that could be disastrous.

Drawing Felder’s low kicks would be another way to get him out of position and plow in with that double jab to right hand. Tiffany van Soest is a great example of this in the kickboxing ring, she will bounce around outside of range, very deliberately step in to present her lead leg, and almost immediately retract it. If the opponent doesn’t kick, nothing is lost. If the opponent does kick she is ready to step back in as their leg swings by.

Iaquinta showed some awareness of this against Masvidal, letting Masvidal fall short on a couple of low kicks after feinting, but failed to capitalize on it with anything meaningful. And of course the old fashioned method of brute-forcing it will always be a reasonable response to a good low kick. Fedor Emelianenko and Igor Vovchanchyn scored a dozen knockdowns between them by stepping into the kick, pointing the knee out and allowing the foot to ride up the front of their quad. At the same time, they were throwing the right hand.

A tactic that might come in handy for Iaquinta is to lead with kicks and step in off them. Both Iaquinta and his teammate Chris Weidman have done this well before—they aren’t big kickers or known for their kicking games but they kick decently enough and can travel in quickly off them, not caring so much about religiously retreating to their guard. Alessandro Ricci had great success putting up kicks and then darting in to hit Felder with his hands after Felder had braced for the impact. Here Ricci both returns to stance and immediately bounds in, and hits that Machida special—using the kick itself to step in.