Sydney finally got its moment with The Great. Our Man Volk.
This was Australia’s greatest ever combat athlete walking into a main event in his home state for the very first time.
The kid from the South Coast headlining a UFC World Title week in Sydney, with an entire country expecting greatness because somehow he keeps delivering it.
There was something bigger about this one.
The kind of sporting moment that feels deserved. The potential for a “where were you when?” moment.
Years of carrying Australian MMA into rooms it had never previously belonged in. Years of proving that a rugby league player from Windang could become one of the pound-for-pound best fighters on earth. Years of professionalism, discipline and consistency that people still probably underrate because he makes impossibly hard things look normal.
And now finally, Sydney.
Staying at Crown Sydney in Barangaroo overlooking the harbour while the UFC machine slowly built around the city, you could feel what the week represented.
And selfishly, for the first time in years, there was also this incredibly rare luxury of no international travel.
Home.
Two hours from my front door.
Which meant my family could actually be part of the experience instead of watching it unfold from a distance.
That part mattered more than I expected it to.
Because when you spend years inside elite sport, so much of the sacrifice quietly happens away from family. The flights. The missed weekends. The time zones. The strange hotel rooms. The constant movement.
This week, for once, everybody got to share in it together.
Well… at least until the chaos started.
The secret
Nobody outside the inner circle knew that Alex had dislocated his shoulder 32 days before the fight.
Nobody.
And somehow, by the time his hand was raised after 25 minutes under the brightest lights in the sport, the world still didn’t know.
That’s probably the craziest part.
Every morning for the next month started the same way.
Then repeat it all again the next day.
Thirty-one straight days of trying to solve a puzzle most people never even knew existed.
That’s where a decade of trust matters.
Because there was never a moment where I thought Alex wouldn’t fight.
Not once.
No.
That comes from years of understanding each other. Years of watching how his brain works. Years of seeing him solve problems in real time inside the cage.
Fight IQ almost feels too small a term.
He sees fighting differently to anyone else. He simply has a mindset that is beyond anyone else I’ve ever worked with.
And the camp never stopped. Shadow work in the suite, drills between rooms - because who said you shouldn’t wrestle in a hotel room?
The performance team
A huge part of making this work was having Chris Jaffrey leading the performance side of camp as the ‘Team Volk’ and Freestyle MMA Performance Director and resident strength and conditioning guru. What a time to plug Raise Performance - https://www.raiseperformance.com.au
Jaff and I have worked together for almost 15 years now, and honestly, most of the praise I ever receive in high performance environments usually has him somewhere hidden behind the curtain doing the difficult work that makes everything function.
That’s always been his style.
Only now, through the launch of Raise Performance, is he being pushed - somewhat unwillingly - into the spotlight he certainly deserved a decade ago.
It probably doesn’t help that we vaguely look alike either.
There’s a real chance I’ve accidentally (or was it manufactured by me on purpose) received double the credit for years because people confuse the two of us.
Jaff is the best I’ve ever seen at translating medical language into combat sport reality.
I can explain pathology, tissue tolerance, instability risk, rehab progressions and load exposure. Jaff somehow takes all of that and converts it into live MMA understanding that fighters and coaches can immediately apply.
His whole philosophy is built around one line he repeats constantly:
And honestly, in the chaos of elite MMA, that mindset becomes invaluable.
Just relentless execution of the fundamentals at an elite level.
With Volk’s shoulder, that role became even more critical.
That balance is incredibly hard to achieve in elite combat sports, where the culture naturally leans toward chaos, toughness and overcommitment.
But Jaff has this rare ability to make fighters feel like they are still fully preparing for war while subtly protecting them from themselves at the exact same time.
It became this constant collaboration between Physio, Medical Performance and Fight Craft.
And somehow, despite all of it, Volk just kept moving forward.
The weight cut
Another massive piece of calm in the madness was once again having Jordi Sullivan running the show and taking charge of the weight cut.
The smartest man in the world in his space.
When you’re managing a serious injury during camp, the last thing you want is chaos around the cut. Jordi removes stress because every variable is calculated. Every adjustment is deliberate.
Or at least… that’s the theory.
Because fight week never lets you relax completely.
The training partner
Having Colby Thicknesse in camp as a training partner was another massive piece of the puzzle.
An elite collection of the finest training partners assembled, led by Colby Thicknesse, Brad Riddell, Craig Jones and Frank Hickmans.
A team that brings professionalism wrapped in laughs and adaptability. Colby has talent and experience beyond his years. High pace. High intelligence. Total buy-in.
When you’re trying to safely prepare someone carrying an injury, you need people around you who understand the assignment.
Just elite preparation.
That matters more than people realise.
Fight day
And then fight day somehow became even more ridiculous.
About three hours before Alex walked to the cage, Mauricio Ruffy was on the floor in his room locked in spasm and pain, barely able to stand.
Fight day physio is chaos disguised as professionalism.
So I get called into Ruffy’s room.
We start working.
And who do I bring in to help reinforce the pain science concepts and build buy-in to the process?
Our honorary professor himself - Volk.
That’s who he is.
Hours before his own world title fight, carrying a shoulder injury nobody knows about, he’s helping calm another fighter down and teaching trust in the process.
Twenty-five minutes of class, toughness, composure and brilliance.
And when his hand was raised – “AND STILL” - the world celebrated another incredible performance without knowing the most recent story behind the story.
That’s the thing about elite sport.
But sometimes the greatest performances are the ones hidden underneath the performance itself.
And this one?
This was one of the most remarkable examples of toughness, intelligence and professionalism I’ve ever witnessed.
The whole week
Mick Baines
Whether it’s a collaboration or you’re seeking professional guidance, feel free to send me a message and I’ll be in touch.
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