Bisping Wants Makhachev to Chase a Third UFC Belt — But Strickland Is No Free Pass
GOATIFYIslam Makhachev has already done what most UFC champions never manage: rule one weight class, move up and keep winning. Now Michael Bisping wants to see the Russian take a shot at something even rarer — a third divisional championship.
The former middleweight champion's November 2 proposal is not a confirmed fight announcement. It is a tantalizing route through a crowded welterweight title picture toward current 185-pound champion Sean Strickland. The route matters as much as the destination: Carlos Prates and Michael Morales have an interim title fight ahead, Makhachev has hinted that retirement is approaching, and a middleweight leap would bring real physical and tactical costs.
So is this the perfect final chapter for a dominant champion, or a legacy detour that could leave the 170-pound division waiting? The answer starts with what Makhachev has earned — and what he still owes his current challengers.
Bisping's Triple-Crown Argument Starts With What Makhachev Has Already Done
Michael Bisping has put a provocative destination on Islam Makhachev's career map: one more welterweight title defense, then a run at the UFC middleweight championship. It is a compelling suggestion because it is not a call for a promising contender to skip the line. It is a challenge to a champion who has already climbed from 155 to 170 pounds and built a résumé that makes ordinary measures of success feel inadequate.
Makhachev's lightweight reign featured four successful title defenses, a record for that division. At welterweight, he has added championship success rather than simply collecting a second belt for a photograph. His August victory over Ian Machado Garry at UFC 330 extended his UFC winning streak to 17, a number that captures the consistency behind the debate. He did not need to knock everyone out or produce the same performance every night. He repeatedly found the style and tactical adjustments required to beat opponents with different physical and technical advantages.
That distinction matters. Two-division champions can sometimes be remembered for one brilliant night in a higher weight class. Makhachev's case rests on a longer sequence: sustained dominance at lightweight, an adjustment to larger opponents and continued championship-level results. Bisping's proposal asks whether that versatility can survive one more leap, this time into a class where natural size and strength could become harder to neutralize.
The immediate spark is Makhachev's own suggestion that his next fight could be among the last of his career. At 35, the champion is entitled to consider the legacy he wants to leave, but a short remaining window also creates urgency. A third title attempt would demand a complete training camp, a willing middleweight champion and a welterweight division ready to release him. None of those conditions is guaranteed simply because the idea is irresistible.
Bisping has pointed to Alex Pereira's opportunity to pursue heavyweight gold as a precedent for rewarding an exceptional champion with a higher-weight challenge. That is a persuasive promotional argument, but it is not a sporting guarantee. The UFC still has to decide whether a historic opportunity outweighs the consequences for contenders waiting in two divisions. The strongest version of this plan is not an automatic title shot tomorrow. It is a clear route that starts by resolving Makhachev's current responsibilities.
Prates vs. Morales Is the Gate Makhachev Cannot Skip
Before anyone begins designing a three-belt celebration, there is a real title fight scheduled to produce Makhachev's next challenger. Carlos Prates and Michael Morales are set to contest the interim welterweight championship at UFC 336 on January 30, 2027, in Toronto. The distinction is important: the officially announced event is UFC 336, not UFC 337. The winner will have a legitimate claim to meet the undisputed champion, and that obligation cannot be treated as optional background noise.
Prates presents a particularly uncomfortable test for a grappling-oriented champion. The Brazilian has been a dangerous finisher throughout his UFC rise, with seven wins in eight Octagon appearances and knockouts accounting for those victories. His recent successes over former champions Jack Della Maddalena and Leon Edwards illustrate why he has become such a serious contender. A fighter who can punish one defensive mistake changes the risk calculation for anyone looking to control distance and initiate takedowns.
Morales offers a different problem. The Ecuadorian is unbeaten in 19 professional fights and has combined physical confidence with improving composure against established opposition. His victories over Sean Brady and Gilbert Burns helped move him into this position. A potential Makhachev matchup would test whether the champion's pressure and transitions can impose themselves on a bigger, explosive athlete who has not yet learned what defeat feels like.
The interim belt also changes the politics. It gives the division an active championship storyline while Makhachev waits, but it creates a second belt that eventually needs to be unified. If the champion leaves for middleweight without addressing the winner, the UFC risks turning an interim championship from a temporary solution into an unresolved dispute. The sport has seen enough complicated title hierarchies to know that fans quickly lose patience with belts that do not lead to a clear fight.
Makhachev has reasons to manage his calendar carefully. He has recently fought elite opponents, and his stated desire to return on his own timeline does not automatically mean he is avoiding anyone. But timing and fairness must meet somewhere. The most defensible route is a unification bout against the Prates–Morales winner, followed by an honest assessment of whether the welterweight division has been sufficiently served. That would make any later 185-pound opportunity feel earned by sporting achievement rather than negotiated around it.
For the interim winner, the stakes are therefore unusually high. Victory in Toronto could bring not just a belt but the chance to disrupt a champion's grand retirement plan. That is a stronger narrative than presenting the bout as a waiting-room exercise. The challenger has agency, and the champion has work left to do.
Sean Strickland Makes the 185-Pound Dream a Real Tactical Gamble
The name that makes Bisping's idea especially interesting is Sean Strickland. The American regained the middleweight title at UFC 328 in May by beating Khamzat Chimaev via split decision, with two judges scoring the fight 48–47 in his favor. That result should end any assumption that Makhachev would simply walk into a vacant division and collect a third championship by reputation alone.
Strickland is not a classic one-punch knockout specialist, but his style creates problems that can accumulate over 25 minutes. He works behind a persistent jab, keeps opponents reacting to his pressure and is comfortable turning a title fight into a test of pace and positioning. Against Chimaev, he survived an early grappling challenge and found enough sustained work across later rounds to win the belt. It was a demonstration that being a talented wrestler is not the same as being able to dictate an entire fight against him.
Makhachev would bring a different kind of grappling threat. His chain wrestling, trips and ability to transition between control positions have repeatedly forced elite fighters to defend more than one attack at a time. He is also a much more complete striker than the stereotype of a submission-first specialist suggests. Those qualities are precisely why a hypothetical Strickland fight would be fascinating rather than a simple size-based dismissal.
Still, 185 pounds is not just another ten or fifteen pounds on a scale. Moving up from lightweight to welterweight already required Makhachev to work against larger frames and longer reach. A middleweight champion could add another layer of physical resistance in the clinch, against the fence and during prolonged scrambles. Even successful takedowns might demand more energy, while every unsuccessful entry could give Strickland another chance to establish his jab and keep the challenger at range.
Bisping's confidence that Makhachev could handle a five-round middleweight fight is an opinion, not a demonstrated result. The comparison with Chimaev has limits because their approaches, endurance management and positional priorities differ. A better question is whether Makhachev could win enough individual exchanges to impose his preferred rhythm without spending so much energy doing it that the final rounds tilt toward Strickland.
There is also a timing issue beyond Makhachev. Strickland has his own challengers and title-defense obligations. If he loses the championship before the proposed move, the matchup and its tactical premise could change completely. The middleweight title is not being reserved for a welterweight champion's farewell tour. It is a living division with its own contenders, rivalries and potential upsets.
The Third Belt Could Define His Legacy — Or Distract From an Unfinished Division
The appeal of a third UFC title is obvious. It would give Makhachev a legacy claim that goes beyond the already rare achievement of winning belts in two weight classes. But the value of that achievement depends partly on the road taken. A champion who resolves his division's strongest immediate challenge before moving up creates a different historical argument from one who leaves a queue of unresolved contenders behind.
Shavkat Rakhmonov is the name that complicates the picture. His long layoff and uncertainty about his return make it difficult to schedule a championship fight around him today. Yet his talent and unbeaten reputation have kept him in the discussion of the welterweight division's most intriguing possible opponents. A healthy, active Rakhmonov would pose a different tactical problem from either Prates or Morales, combining length, grappling ambition and finishing instincts. Whether that matchup becomes realistic is still unknown.
It would be unfair to insist that Makhachev must defeat every contender who might someday return before he can pursue a new challenge. No champion can complete an infinite checklist. It would be equally unfair to treat a third belt as the only outcome worth discussing when the next mandatory sporting question is already taking shape. The Prates–Morales winner will be able to make a clear case; other contenders will need results and availability to strengthen theirs.
Retirement adds a second pressure. A fighter considering his final appearances may reasonably favor opponents who create the largest historical stakes. The UFC may favor the same thing for commercial reasons. Fans, however, can distinguish between a genuinely unprecedented test and a promotional shortcut. If Makhachev takes the middleweight fight, it should be because he has established a convincing claim to it, not because a memorable headline is easier to sell than a difficult welterweight defense.
There is no reason to pretend the proposed move is already booked. Bisping has floated a possibility, Makhachev has hinted at a limited remaining career and Strickland currently holds the belt. Everything else depends on future fights, contracts, health and scheduling. That uncertainty is not a weakness in the story; it is the story. The UFC has a chance to build a compelling sequence rather than announce a fantasy matchup and hope the divisions sort themselves out.
For Makhachev, the smartest legacy move may be the less glamorous one first: face the next welterweight champion, answer the question the division has earned the right to ask, and only then pursue the middleweight crown if the opportunity still exists. A third title would be extraordinary. Earning the right to chase it without leaving unfinished business could be more impressive still.
Bisping has identified a genuine once-in-a-generation possibility, not an easy coronation. Makhachev's lightweight record and welterweight success make a third-title attempt worth considering, while Strickland's championship form and the Prates–Morales unification path make it anything but inevitable.
The next decision should be about sequence, not spectacle. Settle the welterweight title question, establish whether the champion truly has the time and appetite to climb again, and let a possible middleweight fight become the reward for finishing the job. That is how a bold idea becomes a defensible sporting legacy.
