Islam Makhachev Eyes Boxing Match with Conor McGregor
Islam Makhachev has conquered almost everything there is to conquer in MMA. Now he’s looking over the fence.
The UFC welterweight champion and current No. 1 pound‑for‑pound fighter has admitted he’s genuinely intrigued by the idea of boxing Conor McGregor — not in a cage, not for a UFC belt, but under straight boxing rules.
It’s a wild notion on paper. McGregor hasn’t won consistently in years and is nowhere near a welterweight title shot. That path is closed to him for now. Yet boxing lives on a different planet, one where spectacle often outruns sporting logic, and Makhachev made it clear he’d happily cross over for the Irishman.
Speaking to Ushatayka, Makhachev didn’t dance around it. He believes a boxing match with McGregor wouldn’t just favor him; it would be one‑way traffic.
He acknowledged McGregor’s early danger, then stripped it down to how he sees it playing out: the Irishman live in the opening moments, then fading fast. As Makhachev put it, McGregor might be a threat in the first round, but beyond that he doesn’t see the former two-division UFC champion having any real chance. He went even further, saying he’d box McGregor regardless of the purse on offer. For a modern star at his level to say the money wouldn’t matter tells you how much the matchup itself intrigues him.
That leaves one obvious question hanging over the fantasy: would Dana White ever book it?
Inside the UFC, Makhachev vs. McGregor makes little competitive sense right now. Different trajectories, different divisions, different realities. But shift it into a Zuffa Boxing framework and the story changes. White would be promoting the sport’s best pound‑for‑pound MMA fighter against its biggest global star. That sells itself.
In MMA, the script is straightforward. Almost everyone would back Makhachev. His elite grappling, suffocating control, and top-game pressure would make him a heavy favorite against a McGregor who has always struggled with relentless wrestlers.
Boxing tears that script up.
No takedowns. No clinch wrestling. No kicks. McGregor could lock in on the one thing that made him a phenomenon in the first place: that sharp left hand and his timing in pure striking exchanges. He would walk into the ring knowing he only had to worry about distance, angles, and leather, not level changes and trips.
That doesn’t mean Makhachev walks in as a novice. He’s not billed as a pure striker, but his stand‑up has become a real weapon in MMA. He’s technically sound, composed under fire, and increasingly confident on the feet. There’s every reason to think he could hold his own in a boxing ring for stretches, especially with his discipline and gas tank.
Still, McGregor’s calling card is power. Even in decline, even after layoffs and injuries, he carries the kind of single-shot threat that always gives him a puncher’s chance. In a boxing match, that’s not a cliché; it’s the entire equation.
Strip away the noise and you’re left with a fascinating contrast: the most complete fighter in MMA today, convinced he’d dominate, against a fading but dangerous star whose hands alone once terrorized the sport.
The odds say it never happens — not in the Octagon, not in a boxing ring. Schedules, contracts, politics, timing: all of it stands in the way.
But Makhachev has now said the quiet part out loud. He wants it. He believes he’d “wipe the floor” with McGregor in boxing and doesn’t care what the cheque says.
In a fight game driven by ego, legacy, and spectacle, how long can an idea like that really stay hypothetical?






