On Saturday in London, a legend of the Octagon makes what may very well be among the last appearances of a storied career. Anderson Silva wasn’t just a fighter—for nearly five years, he was the fighter, the very best to have ever done it. But while Silva, former middleweight champion and martial arts demigod, commands much of the attention, his opponent is putting the capstone on his own remarkable career.
Michael Bisping was never UFC champion. In fact, he never even challenged for UFC gold. Despite that, he’s been an enduring, if not always endearing, presence at the top of the UFC pecking order. Bisping was the kind of fighter the promotion could always count on to provide a recognizable name on any fight card that required an extra smidgen of star power.
While Silva’s legacy is increasingly difficult to grapple with, Bisping too presents a conundrum for historians looking to properly evaluate a career that defies easy description. What to make of Bisping‘s fighting life? Bleacher Report has assembled its team of MMA history buffs to make sense of a fighter who always gave his all—but in the end came up just a little bit short.
Jonathan Snowden: Bisping has been an important cog in building the UK audience and a comfortable presence for fans looking for a familiar face in the co-main event level slot. When asked to headline, mostly, he’s done pretty well as a drawing card. Ultimately, I think he’s had a distinguished career, and I’ve really enjoyed watching him progress as an athlete and a personality.
But—you knew there was a but coming—when you glance down his record, I don’t think it’s my imagination that he’s fallen short again and again against top competition. He’s a very good fighter who, every single time, lost to other very good or elite fighters.
Steven Rondina: There’s no question that Bisping has had a great career on the whole. He’s been an anchor for the middleweight title picture for years now, and that’s an accomplishment few fighters have been able to pull off. On the flip side, it’s tough to ignore the fact that he’s never beaten a former UFC champion, never beaten a guy who would eventually become a UFC champion and never gotten a title shot.
When I sit back and look back on his MMA record and try to pick out the best win of his career, it’s a difficult task because he’s beaten so few big names and has rarely dominated the opposition. The best win in his career, in my book, is when he beat a 40-year-old Cung Le who was coming off a two-year layoff. I’m not even sure if that counts, honestly.
Chad Dundas: My thinking on Bisping has come full circle in recent years. When he first broke into the UFC back in 2006—boy, has it really been 10 years?—I was probably guilty of not fully appreciating his approach. I fell into the trap of thinking he was just a cocky Brit with a less than admirable grasp of the rules. Just seeing the way he strutted to the cage used to kind of tick me off. In retrospect, I know that’s exactly what he wanted.
In more recent times, I’ve unexpectedly found myself wanting to see the man do well. I can only assume this warming is a response to his longevity and a growing respect for his methods. Think of what a luxury Bisping has been for the UFC, after spending his career as one of the more called-out fighters in the middleweight division and a guy who proved he could basically sell a grudge match against anyone.
At this point, I have no choice but to admire that, even if I didn’t always like it.
Patrick Wyman: When you watch Michael Bisping fight, there’s never any question about whether he’s made the most of his talent. He uses what he genuinely has—cardio—along with real depth of skill in every phase and just about every veteran trick he can come up with to find an edge. If he’s hurt, he’ll get into the clinch and grab the cage; he’ll grab the shorts; he’ll milk groin shots and headbutts; he’ll call his own fouls. It’s inspiring to watch.
He wants to win so, so badly, and nothing has ever been easy for him. Just look at the murderer’s row of elite fighters he’s faced over the years. For a guy who categorically isn’t one of the best in the history of the division, he’s done everything he could to get there.
Snowden: I think Patrick’s right. I’d call Bisping a limited fighter, but I do it with admiration. This is a guy who has managed to do battle with an increasingly gifted and technically competent crop of fighters despite being decidedly average in almost every measurable form of athleticism.
He’s not particularly fast, strong or quick. He’s a fighter who, instead, is forced to win almost every second of a bout on his wits alone, a Jeremy Horn for the striking set. That’s impressive.
Wyman: And what’s crazy is that he hasn’t stagnated skill-wise as he’s gotten older; he’s gotten demonstrably better after turning 35. I thought he was done after the Tim Kennedy fight, when he struggled with his distance management and takedown defense, and then he came out and turned Cung Le’s face into a poor man’s Picasso on the feet in his next outing.
He’s also a pioneer in what a lot of other fighters will probably be doing in years to come—building a training camp around himself. He has his own coaches and brings in his own training partners, which gives him the personal attention he needs to keep growing.
Rondina: It’s also super funny to me how Bisping has become a champion of fair play with the new fans Conor McGregor and Ronda Rousey have attracted because of his campaign against PED users. That, of course, is despite the years and years of rule-skirting.
All of my most memorable “Michael Bisping Moments” are negative ones. I remember his controversial win over Matt Hamill in 2007 and his less than graceful handling of the fallout afterward. I remember him landing a number of illegal blows on Jorge Rivera and then spitting at his corner after their UFC 127 fight. I remember him taking a technical decision over Alan Belcher after one of the scariest eye pokes I’ve seen. And, of course, I remember him getting decapitated by Dan Henderson.
Objectively, Bisping has had an absolutely excellent UFC career. Subjectively? I’m expecting him to remain a controversial figure from here until eternity.
Mike Chiappetta: I don’t think it’s a coincidence that over the last few years, the public has grown to embrace him. Most sports fans can appreciate a journey like his, one with one obstacle following another placed in his path met by an unrelenting determination in chasing the prize.
When Henderson flatlined him at UFC 100, Bisping was mostly met with derision. But he’s kept working and moving forward, through another bad knockout at the hands (and feet) of Vitor Belfort, through eye surgery that probably would have (and maybe should) have ended most careers, and through age and time.
Now, as he nears his 37th birthday, we realize he is an elder statesmen, and we can appreciate his rocky journey in pursuit of something he may never achieve. He may not be an all-time great fighter, but he most most certainly is an all-time great competitor.
Dundas: I hope history ultimately dictates that he was a better fighter than he mostly got credit for in the moment. Bisping has been haunted by that highlight-reel KO loss to Henderson and had the misfortune of spending nearly his entire career fighting in the weight class where Silva held the title. As a result, we never even entertained the notion he might be champion.
Still, the guy has amassed a 17-7 overall record in the Octagon, and at least four of those losses came against fighters who later tested positive for PEDs or were known to dabble in testosterone replacement therapy. Maybe that’s not elite, but it ain’t too shabby, either.
Jonathan Snowden covers combat sports for Bleacher Report.
Read more MMA news on BleacherReport.com