Alex Pereira is not one for bombast. He’s not much of a braggart. He doesn’t actively denigrate his foes.
All he does is fight better than just about any human of his size in the history of sanctioned combat sports.
Already a two-division champion by the time he descended upon Washington last week in advance of Sunday night’s UFC Freedom 250 spectacle on the South Lawn of the White House, Pereira was poised to become the first in UFC history to challenge for gold in a third weight class. Forget winning for a moment; nobody had even attempted to make this sort of history.
Conor McGregor never did it, growing satisfied with success not long after adding a lightweight crown to his featherweight belt nearly 10 years ago at Madison Square Garden.
Ilia Topuria, who on Sunday sought to unify the lightweight championship against interim champion Justin Gaethje, just may one day follow Islam Makhachev up to welterweight in a bid to add it to his belt collection. For now, he’s merely a two-division king after previously reigning at featherweight.
Pereira, who’s not even reached the five-year mark in the UFC, already has middleweight and light heavyweight gold to his name, matching in MMA what he’d accomplished in the realm of elite kickboxing. He sized out each weight class, and heavyweight is his final frontier.
Unlike McGregor and Topuria, whose time as champions is not known for a high level of activity, Pereira’s workmanlike approach to defending his crown made it more of a mandate that he move on to bigger and better things.
“I think everything that I’ve been doing gave me enough credentials to fight for this third belt,” Pereira told The Post through an interpreter in the leadup to the event.
Say what you will about the interim championship that was up for grabs between Pereira and Ciryl Gane at the residence of President Trump, but UFC gold is UFC gold. The title was created with heavyweight champion Tom Aspinall still sidelined by the highly damaging double eye pokes he absorbed from Gane in their October no-contest. Couple that with some potential contractual disagreements between Aspinall and the UFC, and it’s conceivable that the interim title gets upgraded to undisputed status before long.
The interim title bout was the only one on the seven-fight docket between a pair of men not native to this country, though the Brazilian holds this land dear to him. Pereira has planted roots in Connecticut, training at the gym of his countryman and former UFC light heavyweight champion Glover Teixeira. His kids are growing up here and speak the language, although he has been slow to pick up English himself.
The prospect of one day becoming a citizen of the U.S. appeals to him. “I’ve had so many opportunities here. I’ve been able to accomplish so many things here,” Pereira said. “As I like to say, America is the land of opportunity; I’ve had a lot of opportunity here.”
Sunday offered perhaps the greatest opportunity of his career, one that figured to introduce his very fan-friendly style to a whole new audience. The fights at the White House have crossed over from the typical major UFC event into the realm of crossover curiosity.
Pereira’s charisma extends beyond his hands of stone — the translation of his nickname “Poatan” in the Tupi language spoken by indigenous peoples of Brazil. From his native warrior-inspired walkout — punctuated by miming the launch of an arrow at his opponent — to embracing how much he resembles an Easter Island statue, he’s easy to get behind. Hollywood took notice, too, casting him in a key role in the upcoming action thriller “Onslaught.”
Just don’t expect Pereira to “go Hollywood.” He’s a fighter to the core, one who had designs on being as active a heavyweight champion as the UFC has ever seen. The bar is low, given that it’s the least-frequently defended belt of them all.
Win or lose Sunday night, get used to seeing more of Pereira. He’s built for the UFC’s biggest stage in the nation’s capital. He’s built for the movies. He’s built to last with an unparalleled legacy after humble international beginnings.
Does it get more American than that?
