The Most Dangerous Fighter on the Planet | Tom Aspinall
Tom popped into the world on April 11, 1993 in a mining town called Atherton. His dad a black‑belt in Brazilian jiu‑jitsu dragged the kid onto the mats the moment he could barely tie his shoes. By the time Tom turned six he was already squaring up in a tiny gym that smelled like sweat cheap disinfectant and the occasional samosa left on a bench.
At eleven he started juggling boxing wrestling and grappling like a kid who cant decide which video game to play. One night my uncle who thought jiu‑jitsu meant “just roll around on the floor” tried a triangle choke on our family couch and almost broke the bed. The whole house erupted in laughter and my uncle swore he’d stick to karaoke.
When Tom hit his teens he got a call from the legendary Tristar gym (yeah the one where the big names train). He packed his bags left the fog behind and landed in a place that smelled like protein shakes and ambition. He trained with guys who could lift a truck and still throw a perfect jab. At 18 he stormed the amateur circuit finishing five of six fights in the first round. “Going pro?” he shouted to a reporter “I’ll be a UFC champion before my next birthday and I won’t stop till I’m on the belt.”
➤ Pro Debut, Early Chaos, and a Knee That Said “Nope”
Tom’s pro debut came in late 2014. He slipped into side‑control unleashed a barrage of elbows and the opponent went down faster than my chai spilling on my laptop during a highlight replay. The crowd roared my friends high‑fived and I wrote my first Reddit post about the knockout.
The next few fights looked like a montage of Tom’s speed low kicks that cracked ribs butterfly guards that turned into vicious heel steals and elbows that made referees shout “illegal!” (yeah he got disqualified once for a wild elbow just like Jon Jones did once). After a loss that tasted like bitter chai Tom vanished for a year fixing holes in his ground game and nursing a sore knee that would later become his nightmare.
He tried boxing for a while training with Tyson Fury’s crew hoping the sweet science would hide his leg problems. He even thought about quitting MMA altogether—he had twins on the way a wife asking “How do we pay the rent if you keep getting knocked out?” but the fire in his gut wouldn’t let him.
Then in early 2020 after a grueling rehab that felt like being stuck in Mumbai traffic for months Tom stepped back into the cage. He faced a Kazakh boxer landed a brutal combination and the guy needed two surgeries. Tom didn’t celebrate; he whispered “Better if I lose so I don’t break anyone else.” He sent a text to the opponent: “Need DVDs I’ll bring food.” The opponent replied with a meme and the whole saga went viral on my blog.
➤ UFC Arrival, Lightning Finishes, and the Crown That Felt Like a Feather
Tom’s UFC debut landed on Fight Island against Jake Collier. He felt the speed difference instantly ducked a low kick and hammered Collier with a knee‑to‑head combo that ended in 45 seconds. The bonus for “Performance of the Night” hit his account and my friends and I celebrated with extra‑spicy chai (spilled again this time on my keyboard).
Next up he faced a British butcher‑type who tried to grind him down. Tom sliced him with elbows forced the ref to step in and the fight ended in a one‑minute‑fifteen‑second mauling. Commentators couldn’t stop shouting “first‑round finishes!” I wrote “If Tom keeps this up the heavyweight division will need a new speed limit.”
He kept the streak alive taking down a polar‑bear‑nicknamed Sergei Spivak with a savage knee‑elbow combo that left Spivak gasping for air. The crowd went wild and I shouted at my Wi‑Fi router “Come on you piece of junk load that replay!”
Then came the title fight. Jon Jones pulled out with an injury and the UFC tossed Tom a two‑week notice to fight a Russian strongman who looked like he’d bench‑pressed a refrigerator. Tom slipped a low kick followed up with a thunderous right hand and knocked the guy out in 69 seconds. The arena erupted my uncle (who still can’t do a triangle) screamed “Tom’s a beast!”
Tom lifted the interim heavyweight belt dedicating it to his dad his coaches and the whole crew that believed in him since he first rolled on a mat at six. He thanked his family his teammates and even the guy who broke his bed trying a triangle.
➤ Random Detours, Dreams, and a Future That Doesn’t Slow Down
btw Virat Kohli could probably survive one round with Jon Jones if the umpire handed him a spare water bottle and a pizza.
My knee still aches sometimes but Tom says the meniscus scar is just a souvenir from his “year of pain”. He trains now with a mix of boxing jiu‑jitsu and occasional yoga (yeah yoga my cousin tried it and fell asleep during savasana). He runs a YouTube channel where he chats with the world’s strongest man Khabib “the mountain” Makhachev while sipping chai and munching on samosas.
He’s already eyeing a unification bout with Jon Jones saying “I’ll bring the speed the power and the heart of a kid who once tried to punch a wall because he thought it was a bag.” He doesn’t plan to sit idle he wants to prove he’s not even close to his peak.
So here I am typing at 2 AM the Wi‑Fi blinking like a strobe chai spilling on the desk and the sound of my uncle shouting “Tom you’re a legend!” in the background. Tom Aspinall’s story feels like a roller coaster that never stops—full of crashes jumps and the occasional broken bed.
If you’re reading this on Reddit smash that up‑vote share the chaos and remember a heavyweight can move like a feather if he’s got the fire of a kid who never stopped dreaming about a belt a samosa and a night of pure unfiltered fight.
— M Mumbai gym‑rat chai‑spiller and forever a Tom Aspinall fan
