Graduate Assistant Coach for @MidlandU_BSB | Head Coach of the Plainsmen Summer 24 & 25 in @ILBTweets | #JucoProduct | MidlandU Alum ⚾️ | California ➡️ Nebraska
Every hitter I've coached who struggles..
Tends to have the same problem.
They have the tools.
They look great in the cage.
Then the game starts and something's off..
They bail on swings they crush in BP.
They second-guess.
They look like a different hitter.
It's not mechanics.
Not strength.
Not lack of reps.
It's one thing.
The thing that separates the hitter that's feared
Versus the hitter that gets attacked.
The thing that you can see from a mile away.
That one word? Conviction.
Trusting your swing.
Your plan.
And yourself.
No hesitation. No hoping.
Pitchers sense it.
Coaches see it.
The hitter who has it looks unshakable.
And ready to make someone pay.
Send this to a hitter who needs to hear it.
Save it for when you need it.
(And make sure you're following)
You may never witness another five minutes like this in MMA history. Every second of it—earned.
These five minutes of Dustin Poirier walking out of the cage one final time, to a Louisiana crowd that hadn’t moved, surrounded by family, fellow fighters, pro athletes, executives, and others waiting to congratulate him—were earned with blood, heartbreak, grit, and an unbreakable will.
This wasn’t just a retirement. It was a celebration of a man who gave everything to this sport of MMA.
Every ounce of himself. Every piece of his soul.
He never chose the easy path. He walked through fire every time.
Wins or losses—Dustin Poirier always showed up.
Always real. Always game. Always himself.
He leaves behind a legacy bigger than belts.
He leaves as the epitome of what it means to be a fighter.
Respect isn’t given in this sport. It’s earned.
And Dustin Poirier earned every second of it.
Few retirements in MMA leave behind a scene like this.
A moment where time stood still, and the sport gave its thanks.
Respect 🫡