Over a week has passed since Eduard Folayang once again found himself at the mercy of Shinya Aoki’s suffocating grappling when they clashed for the fourth time at ONE 172 on March 23. And let’s not sugarcoat it — this was no drawn-out chess match. This was swift, ruthless, and definitive.
Inside the hallowed halls of the Saitama Super Arena, in front of a rabidly pro-Japanese crowd, Aoki wasted no time imposing his will. The moment he dragged Folayang into his guard, you could feel the inevitable unfolding. In mere seconds, the Filipino legend was ensnared by an armbar. The tap came at 53 seconds. It was a statement. It was final.
For Folayang, this was more than just another loss. At 41 years old, he is a warrior nearing the twilight of his career, hoping to wring out whatever fight remains in his battle-worn frame before he rides off into the sunset. But in a night filled with endings, there was almost another — one that many in the crowd and watching at home missed.
As Aoki symbolically removed his gloves in what appeared to be his final act as a fighter, Folayang followed suit. The red tape sealing his gloves began to peel away. The moment was slipping into history, until Joshua Pacio stepped in. With urgency, the reigning ONE Strawweight MMA World Champion insisted his senior to pause, to not let the weight of the moment dictate his future.
Yes, you read that correctly. Eduard Folayang, a man revered by many as “The Face of Philippine MMA,” nearly hung up his gloves that night. And let’s be honest, had he done so, who could have blamed him? He has endured 37 battles, many of them against the best of his era. Time, after all, is the one opponent even the greats cannot outrun.
MMA is an unforgiving business. It builds warriors, only to discard them when the next wave arrives. It doesn’t care how many wars you’ve fought and how many milestones you’ve achieved. It chews fighters up and spits them out without a second thought. But Pacio knew that this spur-of-the-moment decision born from heartbreak wasn’t how Folayang’s story should end.
The last six years have not been kind to the former ONE Lightweight MMA World Champion — eight losses in his last ten bouts. And in the cruel nature of this sport, those numbers have begun to overshadow the legacy he built. But let’s set the record straight: Folayang was Philippine MMA’s revolutionary force.
From his days in the Philippine wushu sanda national team, he carried his elite striking pedigree into the cage, sending opponents reeling with spinning backfists, slicing sidekicks, and relentless pressure. He made history in his debut by winning the URCC welterweight championship, proving from day one that he was cut from a different cloth.
His meteoric rise wasn’t just about skill — it was about story. The everyman fighter with a warrior’s heart, a face that graced national television commercials, a hero that Filipino fight fans rallied behind. He wasn’t just a fighter; he was “the” fighter.
Through adversity, Folayang never wavered. He embodied the philosophy that “hard work cannot be denied forever,” a mantra he validated when he ripped the ONE Lightweight MMA World Championship from Aoki’s grasp via third-round TKO in November 2016. Even after suffering a heartbreaking defeat a year later, he reclaimed the gold in 2018 with a dominant victory over Amir Khan.
The reality is that the past few years have been a struggle. But that does not erase what he has done. Folayang is Philippine MMA, the same way Manny Pacquiao is to boxing, Robert “Sonny” Jaworski to basketball, Efren “Bata” Reyes to billiards, and Paeng Nepomuceno to bowling. You do not rewrite the history of this sport without his name.
As he nears his 42nd birthday with his contract set to expire in September, the next chapter seems inevitable. Life after the cage looms. And if this is to be his swan song, let it be done right.
Folayang deserves more than being an accessory to another man’s exit. He deserves a send-off befitting a legend. A moment where he steps into the cage one final time, not as an afterthought, but as a celebrated warrior. Where he removes his gloves, places them in the center of the cage, and walks away knowing he left the sport in a better place than when he first entered it.
Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned from Eduard Folayang, it’s this: champions aren’t just defined by their victories. They are defined by how many times they rise after falling.
(For comments or questions, reach the author at nissi.icasiano@gmail.com or visit his Facebook page at www.facebook.com/nissi.icasiano.)