Photo by Mike Roach/Zuffa LLC

The unstoppable march of Chad Mendes through anyone not named Jose Aldo continued last night, as he obliterated Ricardo Lamas, with no trouble at all, in the main event of UFC Fight Night: Fairfax.

Elsewhere on the card Juliana Pena made her long awaited return, Al Iaquinta and Jorge Masvidal had a close and largely uneventful bout, Dustin Poirier knocked out a Jiu Jitsu player who decided to brawl with him, and the sad story of Gray Maynard saw a brief reprieve, then got even sadder.

We've got a little to talk about, let's crack on with the main event.

Mendes Bullies Lamas

Ricardo Lamas is a top tier grappler. A blanket with excellent takedowns and some quality submission skills, but lately he's become convinced that he's a decent striker too. The wheel kicks, the push kicks, the front snap kicks, the grazing low kicks—they're pretty, but they just aren't accomplishing much. It's one thing to be able to throw up high kicks and wheel kicks, it's another to lay the foundations and set the traps for them to actually land.

That was the story of Lamas' much maligned title fight against Jose Aldo. Occasional wheel kicks, then minute after minute of getting beaten senseless by a more “basic” kickboxer who actually had the know how to get his strikes into context.

The true problem is that Lamas is a man without a middle range. Spare one well-timed jab against Dennis Bermudez—which seemed to be more chance that Bermudez was stepping in than well-crafted counter—Lamas' hands just haven't ever seemed to be there.

Against Mendes, Lamas circled the cage, threw out front kicks, and Mendes stayed just out of range, taking away space incrementally as the two circled. As the two got closer to the fence, Lamas pumped out a 1-2 each time before circling out. After a couple of attempts it was obvious. Especially because Lamas circles the cage in a very short, mobile stance, then steps into a long, deep stance when he wants to punch. Mendes saw it a mile off and as he feinted in he threw his own right hand and slipped Lamas'.

Lamas gamely fought back to his feet, but the distance was gone and so were his legs. Mendes was all over him with hooks and knees, dropped him again, and pounded on a turtled Lamas for what seemed like an eternity while Big Dan flirted with the idea of overseeing the UFC's first fatality. A cracking performance by Mendes, a woeful showing by the referee, and more of the same from Lamas who seems to be struggling to find his identity both in and out of the cage.

Iaquinta Gets the Nod

The co-main event was the bout I was looking forward to most on this card as Al Iaquinta took on Jorge Masvidal. Iaquinta is a product of Ray Longo's tuition, which means that on the feet he can be what the old timers would call “cute”. He'll hook off the jab, he'll throw straights to the body, he'll hand trap and so on. Against Joe Lauzon he looked sublime. The problem is that, unlike fellow Serra-Longo protégé, Chris Weidman, Iaquinta is an emotional fighter.

When Iaquinta kept to conservative, crisp combination punching, he had Masvidal covering up and unable to fire back. A great weakness of Masvidal's is that he can be forced onto the defensive and spend a whole fight showing how good he is at covering up and evading—while losing a decision. Gilbert Melendez has never moved much past pumping his hands alternately, but he still forced Masvidal onto the defensive, kept him there, and beat him through the difference in activity.

The problem was that when Iaquinta started swinging wild, Masvidal would take advantage with crisp counter punches. The really obvious one throughout the first round was Masvidal connecting a short left hook inside of every clumsy overhand Iaquinta threw. When Iaquinta put Masvidal back on the end of the right straight in the second and third rounds, the counters suddenly stopped.

There were a few cool sequences as Iaquinta picked up lazy single legs only to throw a beautiful hard right, or as Iaquinta stepped inside kicks in the last round and landed right straights, but my favourite sequence came in the first round as Masvidal hurt 'Raging Al'.

A powerful high kicks, particularly one out of nowhere, will make a fighter reluctant to duck for a moment. This has cost Ross Pearson—the master of the inside slip and the duck—to lose a couple of fights in the UFC. Masvidal's wheel kick stood Iaquinta up and suddenly he was stepping in with a rare burst of activity.

Iaquinta shoots, but like most fighters who have just had their equilibrium stolen, he gets sprawled on. Here's where Serra's tuition shows as Iaquinta pulls an inside hooks / butterfly / Mothra guard but only gets one hook in. The value of the inside hooks guard—in no-gi grappling at least—is that you're pretty close to the single leg X-guard or the knee reap most of the time. As Masvidal attempts to quickly step over the hook, Iaquinta reaps the knee, goes for the heel hook, and buys himself some time along with a decent chance at coming up in a better position.

A passable scrap, with some good moments from both fighters, but neither really brought their A-game. It feels as though Iaquinta needs to work a little on keeping his emotions in check, while Masvidal needs to work on actually stepping forward and striking because defense, no matter how good, cannot win fights on its own.

Odds and Ends

Elsewhere on the card, it was great to see Julianna Pena get a decisive win in her return from a brutal knee injury that kept her out of the game for well over a year. Pena came out swinging, got the mount on Milana Dudieva. Dudieva did her best Gilbert Yvel impression, attempting to strike back from the underside of mount, and it went about as well as you'd expect. If you're wondering when it is appropriate to strike from the underside of mount, the answer is never.

Pena climbed higher in her mount and Dudieva's bridges became less and less effective as Pena pounded her to a stoppage with elbows—a hell of a way to announce a return.

Dustin Poirier had a successful return to lightweight as he smashed Diego Ferreira. Ferreira, a Jiu Jitsu specialist, engaged Poirier in a brawl and lost.

It is probably time that we stop billing Poirier as a top striker though. The same dropping of hands between punches which got him caught by Akira Corassani, Chan Sung Jung, and plenty of others was still getting him clipped by Ferreira's broad sides, and he ran himself onto the fence a couple of times.

Poirier, as a striker, should be considered well practiced in the mechanics—and that is enough to knock out most of the guys in any division in the UFC—but lacking the high level ringcraft of the elite.

The difference is that getting your body to remember the mechanics of techniques is the hard part. Learning the ringcraft just takes the right coach and the conscious understanding that you don't want to be putting yourself in bad places throughout a fight. There's hope for Poirier, he just has to recognize it.

As a final thought, I'd like to meditate on Gray Maynard for a moment. I am often reluctant to condemn a fighter's chin—there's a lot of factors involved in taking blows, chief among them is whether a fighter sees a blow coming or not. Perceived weaknesses in chin often reflect a weight cut which is too severe, or defensive flaws. But Maynard's recent decline seems little to do with defensive flaws and more to do with being unable to take the blows that any fighter will have to.

In his bout last night, Maynard looked great for almost two full rounds. Maynard showed shoeshine flurries to the body, excellent head movement, some nice clinch transitions, and a repeated right straight into stepping right hook (a mirrored Johny Hendricks favorite) which troubled his southpaw opponent.

With a minute and a bit left in round two, he ate a straight down the pipe which would have dropped anyone. The problem was that he never recovered—through round three he shot clumsily and lumbered around, obviously still feeling the effects of the punch from the round before.

Many of the old timers who left the game graciously (as graciously as you can leave the world of professional fist fighting) will often remark that they retired as soon as they felt themselves slowing down or the punches staying with them longer. Bill Wallace (he of the superfoot) often recounts that he decided to quit kickboxing when in his last fight both he and his opponent got hurt before the bell. As the two left their stools following the break, Wallace was still feeling the effects of the punches, but his considerably younger opponent seemed completely recovered. Wallace won the fight, but at that moment he had decided that he was getting too old and didn't want to push it.

Taking punches is a part of the game. You could train the most defensively savvy fighter in the world, but they are still going to get hurt. When you can't take a punch any more, it's time to get out. Maynard still has a ton of skill, but this isn't just a skill game. I hope that following this fourth consecutive loss, Maynard can find his peace with the fight game and move into being an excellent coach full time.

Read more Jack Slack:

The Bible of Striking: Elements of Defense

The Mongoose: Lessons in Fighting from Nature's Greatest Outfighter

Fighting Motives: The Mighty Thumb