Nobody asked me, but Shawn Jordan was a fighter who had it all. For a spell, he was the most exciting man in MMA’s plodding heavyweight division. A squat, explosive package of muscle who did backflips in the cage and could move like a panther when needed. Now he's gone, another what-if in a sport full of them.
Jordan was a fullback at LSU. Played for Nick Saban and Les Miles. Won two national championships. But football wasn't his final destination. Fighting was.
He had hands like sledgehammers and a chin made of granite. Could take a punch and give one back twice as hard. The kind of guy who made you wince just watching him fight. His most exciting night came against Derrick Lewis. They called Lewis "The Black Beast" on account of his size and power. But Jordan tamed him. Twice. The first time was in some backwater promotion in Louisiana in 2010. Jordan won on points. The second time was in the big show in 2015. The UFC. In New Orleans, Jordan's old stomping grounds. Lewis came in looking for revenge. Jordan came in on a winning streak, looking to prove a point. It was no contest. Jordan took Lewis down in the first. Wore him out. Made him carry that big body around. By the second round, Lewis was huffing and puffing like a steam engine.
Then Jordan did something you don't see every day. He threw a hook kick. A hook kick. From a guy built like a fire hydrant. It caught Lewis flush. Sent him stumbling. Jordan followed him down. Climbed on his back like a jockey on a horse. Started raining down punches. The ref had to pull him off. It was a beatdown. Pure and simple. The kind of fight that makes you question everything you thought you knew about the sport.
When I talked to him on Twitter, Jordan was humble. Said it was just a style thing. Said Lewis wasn't stronger than him. But you could tell he knew he'd done something special. He did a lot of special things in his career. That should have been the start of something big for Jordan, who was on a winning streak. But it wasn't. He lost his next fight, a boring decision to Ruslan Magomedov—a fighter so juiced-up and dirty he got a lifetime ban from USADA. Then Jordan was gone from the UFC.
He moved around. Fought in some World Series of Fighting shows when that promotion—now the Professional Fighters League—was on the rise. Even got a 2017 WSOF title shot against Blagoy Ivanov, where he got knocked out by the man who also ended Fedor’s combat sambo winning streak. But it wasn't the same.
His last fight came in 2018 against a ham-and-egger named Josh Copeland, another UFC veteran. They call Copeland "Cuddly Bear." It wasn't as exciting as Jordan’s best fights, for sure. He lost on points and hasn’t fought since. A quiet end for a guy who once made so much noise.
But let's not forget what Jordan was. A two-time state wrestling champ in high school. One of the top high school fullbacks in the country. A guy who played for two of the best coaches in college football history, no matter what the talking heads might say about Les Miles today. In MMA, he beat some names. Pat Barry, the kickboxer with dynamite in his hands. Jared Cannonier when Cannonier was a hefty heavyweight, not the ripped middleweight contender he is now.
And get this: Jordan even took out Carlton Haselrig. You might not know the name, because Haselrig was just starting out in MMA when they fought, but you should. He won six NCAA wrestling titles. Three in Division I, three in Division II. Then he made the Pro Bowl for the Steelers without playing a down of college football. That's not a career, that's a fairy tale.
Prime Jordan had it all. Speed. Power. Wrestling. A gas tank that rarely seemed to empty. For a while there, he was appointment viewing. The kind of fighter who made you clear your schedule. He even had a brush with Hollywood. Played a Russian fighter in some movie called Philly Kid, directed by Sean Connery’s son. But the bright lights couldn't outshine what he did in the cage.
Jordan's career was a rollercoaster. He'd win big, then—much more rarely—get knocked out by another big hitter like Cheick Kongo. Knock a guy out, then drop a decision to someone like Magomedov. Ivanov did get to him at the end, but Ivanov in 2017 was a great fighter. When Jordan was on, he was really on.
Remember that Pat Barry fight? Jordan put him away in 59 seconds. Walked away with a "Knockout of the Night" bonus. Did the same thing to Jared Cannonier. One minute you're watching a fight, the next the loser is soaking up the black lights and it's all over.
Now Jordan’s gone. Another coulda-been in a sport full of them. But for one night in New Orleans, he was perhaps the best in the world. He took The Black Beast and made him look like a kitten. And that was just one night—there were lots of other nights. That's the thing about fighting. It's not about who you are. It's about who you are on that one night. And on his special nights, Shawn Jordan was a world-beater.
They'll remember Derrick Lewis. The knockout artist with the quick wit. The guy who took his shorts off in the cage because his balls were hot. The man who set the UFC heavyweight knockout record. But they should remember Shawn Jordan too. The fullback who could fight. The big boy who had Lewis' number. The man who, on his best nights, might have been the baddest man on the planet. In this game, that's all you can ask for. One perfect night. Shawn Jordan had a couple. And they were something to see. I’m glad I did.
Jordan's gone, out of the fight game. But somewhere out there, there's probably a gym with a heavy bag that's still shaking from the last time he hit it. That's the kind of power he had. The kind that leaves an echo in our memories. In a sport where everyone's looking for the next big thing, Shawn Jordan was the big bald thing that got away. A reminder that in fighting, as in life, timing is everything. For those of us who saw him at his peak, we'll always wonder. Wonder what could have been if things had broken just a little bit differently. If that hook kick had landed in a title fight against Stipe Miocic instead of a regular bout. If the stars had aligned just right.
Shawn Jordan. Remember the name. He may not have been the greatest. But for a few nights, he was as good as anyone. And on one hot June night in New Orleans, he was better than that. He was unforgettable.
