Six years and 83 pay-per-views ago, Demetrious Johnson fought for the final time in the UFC. He lost a split decision to Henry Cejudo, which was a relief to those who’d grown uncomfortable with Johnson breaking UFC records. Dana White and his matchmakers were so over it that they were actively nailing pieces of plywood over the flyweight division’s windows, trying to shut the whole thing down.
The flyweights were dead. And Johnson, for being as dominant as he was for as long as he was, had his DNA all over the crime scene.
See, all of that was before. Back before Johnson gained a kind of cult following for simply being who he is. Back before connoisseurs really understood what they were looking at and could therefore deepen their appreciation for the rarity of his vintage. Back before his genius could truly be missed.
And all that was well before Alexandre Pantoja.
If the UFC was anxious to get rid of Johnson back when he was a marketing menace back in 2018, it’s perhaps poetic that he should appear so in-demand near the end of 2024. Pantoja showed up at UFC 310 in a kind of flyweight limbo as a champion, as people tried to place his rank in the all-time canon of flies. The name that kept coming up as the GOAT that he fell under? Demetrious Johnson. The one and only “Mighty Mouse.” The bite-size phenom who defended the 125-pound title a record 11 times between 2012-17, while confounding the UFC brass as a non-needle mover.
After Pantoja jumped on Kai Asakura’s back and began a brilliant end-sequence that was reminiscent of Johnson’s heyday, Pantoja got on the mic and challenged Johnson to come out of retirement. To come face off with him in a flyweight legacy battle. The crowd let up a roar at the possibility. It’s doubtful DJ ever heard a roar as loud during the height of his historic run, which was a travesty then as much as it is now.
Pantoja, who has defended the flyweight title three times, is aiming his arrows at the sun because — realistically — there aren’t many intriguing options for his next challenge. But DJ? The GOAT? The original fly who cleaned out the division like five times? The guy that made Kyogi Horiguchi tap with a second left in a five-round fight out in icy Montreal? The blur who submitted Ray Borg with the slickest, sickest suplex armbar you’ll ever hope to see?
See, now we’re not just talking about good matchmaking. We’re talking justice. We’re talking about the prodigal son returning, and an appreciation for art in its highest forms. This would be a full-circle moment for the guy who the UFC all but banished when it traded Johnson to ONE Championship for Ben Askren.
Back in the pre-pandemic days, before prop bets ruled rooting interests and 20-second clips of in-fight genius were made viral on social media a few minutes after occurring, Johnson played to disinterested rooms. He was out of step with the times. The game hadn’t caught up to him.
I can remember Vancouver’s mass exodus at UFC 174, when Johnson was defending his title against Ali Bagautinov in the main event. After hometown kid Rory MacDonald and Tyron Woodley fought in the co-main, half the crowd made their way to the exits. The UFC remembers scenes like that, too. It was a problem. In a sport built on hype, how could they draw interest in Johnson, who valued himself way more than fans valued him?
Back then “Mighty Mouse” was an all-action off-Broadway show. He appealed to fight game hipsters and analytical minds. He was booked mostly in tandem with other lesser title fights, a bang for the buck aspect to deepen a pay-per-view. But these days the marvels have changed. Interests have changed. Eyes have changed. People aren’t as allergic to smaller-dude combat, either. Jesse “Bam” Rodriguez is being celebrated among boxing’s pound-for-pound best, and his knockout of Pedro Guevara wasn’t thought of any less because he stands 5-foot-4. If anything, it was appreciated more.
All the love that DJ should have received back when he was an unsung tyrant in the UFC is there for him now. Usually when people bring up karma, it’s that it’s coming to bite somebody in the ass. In this case, karma is tempted to right a wrong.
Of course, Johnson isn’t asking for the love. Nor does he need it. He is as content in his retirement as you’ll ever find from a competitor of his station. In fact, right when the chorus swelled in his favor to return late Saturday night, he shut things down on his social media, posting shortly after Pantoja’s callout, “Guys, I got offered 2 million dollars to fight!! I turned it down and I don’t care to fight anymore YouTube video dropping soon.”
He punctuated with a little blushy smiley face in the place of the period.
But the UFC shouldn’t take that as a hard “no.” It’s true he’s 38 now, but one of the key authors of your record books is out there as a dangling carrot for your currently flyweight champion. If the UFC believes in legacy — and after the way it clung to the Jon Jones vs. Stipe Miocic fight, you have to believe it does — a call wouldn’t hurt. Consider it an honorarium. DJ has a good relationship with ONE Championship’s Chatri Sityodtong, so the hurdles would seem to be clearable.
Best of all? The evidence suggests that Johnson still has it. There hasn’t been a “steep decline.” There has only ever been his prowess, showing up in clearer and wiser forms. He ended his run in ONE Championship by taking two of three from Adriano Moraes, which was a nice enough sayonara to the game he ruled. But it was a quiet exit. Under-celebrated. More of a receding back into ordinary life than the end of a legendary career.
If DJ didn’t get the reception he deserved in his time, imagine bringing him back now that his records have had a chance to marinate. He wasn’t a draw back then, but van Gogh didn’t sell paintings in his lifetime, either. Bring him back, and the promo packages alone will tell a story to reprimand our neglect.
Pantoja wants it. So should the UFC.
