Gunnar Nelson has mastered the art of fighting in an unconscious state, which normally doesn’t work for many people, but it does for the native of Iceland. He’s kind of a gentle killer in a way. He looks at you calmly, luring you in with his intoxicating stare, then lets you do your thing for a minute or two while he calculates your next move. A Swedish Machida, perhaps? Then, the next thing you know, you’re bleeding and tapping out. What happened?
Gunnar will stand up, wipe the blood off his body with the same nonchalance given to defeating his thirteenth opponent in a row, then pace around the Octagon a bit, exhaling and thinking about when he’ll eat his next sheep’s head.
Gunnar Nelson picked Zak Cummings apart so well in Dublin, we have to start talking about who he fights next as he enters the meatgrinder that is the welterweight top ten. Erick Silva, perhaps?
