Months after questions emerged about whether the UFC’s Michael “Venom” Page experiment was working, the answer arrived in stunning fashion. Page leaves the promotion with a 5-1 record and four consecutive victories, but says he learned about his departure the same way everyone else did: on the internet. Now the 39-year-old says he feels “free,” claims offers are pouring in from virtually everywhere and believes the version of MVP that made him famous may finally be coming back.
Michael “Venom” Page was supposed to be one of the easiest fighters in mixed martial arts to understand. He was flashy, unpredictable, theatrical and capable of producing the kind of violent highlight that could live on social media for years. When the UFC finally signed him after his long Bellator run, the appeal seemed obvious. Put one of the sport’s most unconventional strikers on its biggest stage, give him elite opposition and see whether the spectacle translated.
It never quite did, even though Page kept winning. In fact, he won almost constantly. He went 5-1 inside the UFC, defeated Kevin Holland in his debut, lost only to Ian Machado Garry and then rattled off four consecutive victories. His final appearance came in Paris, where he defeated Nursulton Ruziboev by unanimous decision. On paper, there is almost nothing about that résumé that looks like the profile of a fighter a promotion would willingly allow to leave.
But, Page’s UFC story was never really about the numbers. Months ago, I raised the uncomfortable question hanging over his run: Was the Michael “Venom” Page experiment failing? The concern was not that Page could no longer win fights. It was that the fighter UFC audiences were getting looked increasingly different from the one whose Bellator career had been built around spectacular knockouts, theatrical entrances and the possibility that something unforgettable could happen at any second. In the UFC, that danger increasingly became patience. The chaos became calculation. The viral finishes disappeared.
That question now looks considerably more significant. Page’s six UFC fights all reached the scorecards. His final bout against Ruziboev may have produced another victory, but it did little to change the perception that had followed his previous performances. Only 20 total strikes were landed between the two fighters over 15 minutes. Page won the second and third rounds on all three judges’ scorecards, but the kind of dramatic statement that might have forced the UFC into another contract never arrived.
What happened afterward was even more striking. Page said he walked into UFC Paris believing there would likely be another conversation after the fight. He knew his contract was expiring, and he understood that his recent performances had not displayed the explosive version of himself that originally made him famous, but he was still winning. He was ranked. He had won four consecutive fights. In Page’s mind, success should create more opportunity, even if that opportunity came with a reduced contract.
Instead, there was no negotiation and not even a phone call. Page said he discovered the UFC was moving on from him while he was on holiday. Messages began arriving. Clips started circulating. Dana White had publicly confirmed that the promotion would not offer him another contract, and Page was learning about his own future at essentially the same moment as everyone else.
That is the part he cannot understand. Page is not angry that the UFC decided to go in another direction. He repeatedly spoke positively about the promotion, its platform and the staff members he worked with throughout his run. What bothered him was the absence of communication. In his view, if UFC officials believed his performances were not entertaining enough, someone could have told him. If they wanted more aggression, more urgency or more of the old MVP, they could have said so. At minimum, Page believed a conversation should have occurred before the entire sport learned that his UFC career was over, and he described the way the situation was handled as “quite disrespectful.”
That feeling was compounded by what happened immediately after his final victory. Page was not given an in-cage interview in Paris, marking the second consecutive fight in which he won but was denied the microphone afterward. For a fighter whose identity has always been tied as much to performance and personality as technique, that absence mattered. Page wondered what harm there would have been in allowing him to address the Paris crowd, particularly if UFC officials already knew they were unlikely to bring him back. Fighters have received postfight interviews after ugly performances and uneventful decisions for years. Page had just won his fourth consecutive fight, knew his contract was ending and may have been standing inside a UFC cage for the final time, yet he never got to say goodbye.
The situation becomes even stranger when viewed strictly through competitive results. Page believes a promotion that markets itself as the home of the world’s best fighters sends a complicated message when it releases someone who continues to beat UFC-level opposition. He acknowledged that entertainment matters, but questioned why winning would not ultimately be enough to preserve a roster spot, especially when fighters with repeated losses routinely remain under contract.
His point is difficult to dismiss entirely. Page was competing across two weight classes, accepted fights at welterweight and middleweight, repeatedly expressed willingness to face elite opposition and finished his run with one loss in six appearances. He was not being released because he could no longer compete. The UFC simply decided that what he was producing was no longer what it wanted, and Page appears to understand why.
One of the most revealing parts of his reflection was his admission that something changed after he arrived in the UFC. He described carrying a mental weight into fights and becoming increasingly preoccupied with reproducing the spectacular performances that had defined his earlier career. Instead of simply fighting, he began thinking about how he was supposed to fight.
Page said he recognized the problem around his second UFC appearance and has spoken with a therapist about what he described as lingering mental “blockages.” The irony is that he continued winning while wrestling with them. He knew there was another level available, knew the public was not seeing his best and felt himself gradually moving back toward enjoying competition by the time he fought in Paris, only for the UFC chapter to end just as he believed he was moving closer to rediscovering himself.
Page now wonders whether the environment itself contributed to some of that tension. He was careful not to blame the promotion for his performances, but acknowledged that he felt restricted creatively. The elaborate walkouts, antics and showmanship that had always been central to the MVP experience were harder to express within the UFC structure. For a fighter whose psychology appears closely connected to performance, entertainment and personal expression, those limitations may have mattered more than anyone initially realized.
That is why his reaction to becoming a free agent is so interesting. Page does not sound defeated. He sounds relieved. He described himself as feeling “free,” energized by the possibility of once again creating the complete spectacle around his fights rather than simply appearing inside the cage. He wants memorable entrances. He wants showmanship. He wants finishes. Most importantly, he sounds eager to rediscover the version of Michael Page who once made audiences believe that anything could happen whenever he competed.
The market apparently agrees. Page says offers are arriving from virtually everywhere. Asked to name the interested promotions, he suggested there may not be a meaningful organization that has not expressed some level of interest. At 39, he remains fast enough to defeat fighters a decade younger, recognizable enough to draw attention immediately and unconventional enough that promoters can build an event around him without needing a championship attached.
Jake Paul’s Most Valuable Promotions has already publicly flirted with the most obvious marketing idea imaginable: MVP to MVP, and Page is interested. The appeal extends beyond the acronym. Most Valuable Promotions would potentially provide the kind of spectacle Page believes disappeared during his UFC run. He immediately began talking about the walkouts, production and entertainment possibilities when discussing the promotion, sounding less like a fighter evaluating another contract and more like a performer imagining a stage he might actually enjoy again.
Rizin also interests him. Page has competed in Japan before and spoke glowingly about Japanese audiences and their appreciation for martial arts presentation. Scott Coker, the executive who helped build much of Page’s career in Bellator, is again part of the combat sports landscape and still communicates with him. Page said Coker has continued congratulating him after fights, making another reunion impossible to ignore.
Even rematches from other combat sports remain possibilities. Page has already competed in bare-knuckle boxing against Mike Perry, although he joked that his wife may effectively remove another bare-knuckle appearance from consideration. An MMA or boxing rematch with Perry, however, clearly interests him, and Page also wants to compete again before the end of 2026.
That urgency matters because he knows there is not unlimited time remaining. Page turns 40 in April and estimated that, if he stays active, he may have roughly two more years of competition left. He has opportunities in acting, film production, business and other areas beyond fighting, but the competitive fire remains because his physical abilities have not yet convinced him that it is time to stop.
That creates an intriguing final chapter. For years, Page’s critics wondered what would happen when he finally reached the UFC. Supporters believed the larger platform would turn one of combat sports’ most naturally marketable personalities into an international superstar. Skeptics wondered whether his unconventional style would work against elite competition. The answer ended up being far stranger than either side expected.
Page proved he could win, but what he failed to prove was that winning alone would be enough. That distinction is essential to understanding why this story feels different from a conventional UFC release. Page was not eliminated from the promotion by a string of defeats. He was not obviously washed, overwhelmed or unable to compete with UFC opposition. He was winning fights while simultaneously losing the battle that may matter almost as much inside the modern UFC: convincing the promotion that people absolutely have to watch the next one.
That is precisely why the warning signs were visible months ago. When Fight Matrix questioned whether the MVP experiment was failing, the issue was never simply his record. It was whether the UFC version of Page still delivered the spectacle the promotion believed it was purchasing when it signed him. The victories kept accumulating, but the highlights did not, and now the experiment is officially over.
The fascinating question is whether leaving the UFC ultimately brings the old Michael “Venom” Page back. For the first time in years, Page can choose the promotion, the ruleset, the presentation and perhaps even the kind of fighter he wants to become again. He walked away from the most powerful organization in MMA with five wins in six fights, a four-fight winning streak and enough interest from competitors that being released may have unexpectedly created more options rather than fewer.
The UFC decided it had seen enough of Michael “Venom” Page, but Page seems convinced that the rest of combat sports has not yet seen nearly enough. Page may be leaving the UFC, but with his speed, creativity, star power and renewed sense of freedom, the most entertaining chapter of his career may still be ahead.
Andrew Carswell is a combat sports columnist and college writing professor, based in Las Vegas, NV, whose work examines the intersection of fighting, media, business, and culture. His commentary and analysis have been featured in various magazines, newspapers, and media outlets, including Yahoo! News, and USA TODAY. Blending journalistic insight and experience with a fan’s perspective, Carswell writes about the fight game as both a cultural phenomenon and a global business.