Editorโs Note: This cover story originally appeared in Volume 5 of B.H. Magazine. To get your copy (and access to future issues), subscribe here.
(Photos by Charlie Grant | Fashion by Oliver Reid)
Under the bright lights of Miamiโs Kaseya Centre โ and mere minutes away from reclaiming the featherweight belt โ Alexander Volkanovski experienced something heโd seemingly been impervious to in his last 30 bouts.
Panic.
โThe Greatโ was comfortably up on the scorecards against Diego Lopes at UFC 314 when he lost vision in his left eye. The latter, renowned for his aggressive high-volume striking, had timed a staggering uppercut that was all knuckle on cornea.
Now, the blistering young contender smelled blood in the water.
โI thought my eye had closed up, I didnโt think I was getting it back. I was probably a little rocked as well,โ Volkanovski confesses to B.H. โIโll be honest, my head wanted to go somewhere else, and I had to really pull myself back in. It was a new feeling.โ
Ahead of the fifth and final round, the Australian mixed martial artist was panting on the stool and compromised. And suddenly, the moment was taking on a life of its own. Though it was a different fight โ and a different man โ that brought him here.
Eighteen months prior, it felt like fortune was smiling upon Alexander Volkanovski. Charles Oliveira had withdrawn from his lightweight title rematch against Islam Makhachev, and heโd now headline the main event in another bid to become a two-division champion (Volkanovski failed to do so earlier that year in Perth).
But this expedited second chance was a poisoned chalice. In Abu Dhabi, he was knocked out in the first round. A brutal reminder that, as controversially close as their first encounter mightโve been, no man can step in the same Octagon twice.
There was a rare glimpse of vulnerability in the immediate fallout of the desert showdown. And contrary to the speculation, the culprit behind this grave miscalculation wasnโt your run-of-the-mill hubris. It wasnโt even a briefcase full of cash. It was a full-blown identity crisis.
Alexander Volkanovskiโs foundations were crumbling in the deafening silence of peace, and at a rate you donโt typically see until retirement: who was he outside of the cage, and could he live without a fight? Not according to the armchair analysis.
โI just want to say to the UFC, please keep me busy. I donโt do well when Iโm not fighting. So please keep me busy,โ a stunned Volkanovski pleaded during his UFC 294 post-fight interview.
That evening at the press conference, there was a tearful elaboration: โI needed it. It really is hard for athletes (sorry). I never thought Iโd struggle with it, but for some reason when I wasnโt fighting or in camp (f**k, sorry)โฆ It was just doing my head in.โ
Four months later, the thesis was confirmed when he eagerly defended his featherweight title against the undefeated Ilia Topuria at UFC 298. Tragically, it proved to be far too soon โ another statement knockout defeat, this time in the opening of Round 2 โ thus ending the reign heโd established half a decade ago.
At that point, it was universally agreed by allies and adversaries alike that he needed a break.
โWe didnโt have enough time to recover [for UFC 298], and I take some responsibility for that,โ admits Ash Belcastro, Volkanovskiโs longtime friend and manager, as he cleared the catch in his throat.
Weโve just spent five hours in the studio shooting the B.H. cover, and Iโm now standing off camera with Belcastro โ behind the scenes of a Cooking with Volk episode โ as he contemplates the implications of those career-defining losses with the weight of a cherished friendship and a high-profile legacy on his shoulders.
Belcastro serendipitously met Volkanovski โout the front of a 7-Elevenโ in Phuket back when the former was still trying to compete as a fighter, and they quickly bonded over a shared passion. Realising he was better at negotiating this profession in a suit than he was in Fairtex gloves, Belcastro soon began managing future UFC middleweight champion Israel Adesanya.
In 2019, Alexander Volkanovski formally entrusted his career to Ash Belcastro. That same year, he claimed the featherweight title from Max Holloway.
โWe took UFC 294 with Islam on short notice, and it just didnโt work out our way,โ explains Belcastro. โEven today, weโve had conversations where Iโve said to Volk, โI take responsibility.โ And heโs like, โMate, thereโs no way you werenโt going to let me fight.โโ
โItโs all part of the story, you know?โ Volkanovski says with a shrug.
Recounting the harrowing chapter that few athletes survive and even fewer genuinely consider a blessing, he speaks with an almost disarming amount of humility. A far cry from the usual masculine posturing you hear about โbeing caught on my worst dayโ, โnever letting that happen againโ, and other personal mythologies often sold in promo packages.
Before me stood a man who grappled with his own mortality.
โThat was a moment in my career where I was so committed to my sport and being champion, it was a responsibility. I didnโt know any different. Thatโs all I knew for 15 years,โ he adds. โWhen I didnโt have fights locked in, I was actually spending more hours in the gym than if I did [have a fight]. It was tricky, I needed something to work towards.โ
As it turns out, the tireless engine that propelled Volkanovski to epic heights was also what unravelled him. This wasnโt just a physical toll. This was a complete obliteration of the self.
If thereโs one thing Alexander Volkanovski has never sought, itโs an excuse.
He doesnโt believe in destiny. Nor that sharing a name and Macedonian-Greek heritage with one of historyโs greatest conquerors grants him any kind of divine right โ so much so that despite the obvious connection, his original fight nickname was actually โThe Hulkโ up until 2017.
Volkanovski doesnโt even bat an eye at the sheer coincidence that Windang, the suburb where heโs trained his entire career, is named after the Indigenous word for โscene of a fightโ. But thatโs precisely the key to understanding the man in the Octagon.
Whether it was providing for his family or maintaining a level head, Volkanovski has always competed out of necessity with a capital โNโ. Why would he place credence in anything else other than his own two hands?
โIf I believe in destiny, am I going to try and make something happen? Or am I gonna get complacent thinking, โOh everythingโs meant to beโ?โ Volkanovski ponders aloud.
โDestiny isnโt going to make me a champion. Hard work, my work ethic, my commitment, my discipline โ all that will.โ
You get the sense that he opted to become one of the worldโs most dangerous men with the same blue-collar pragmatism as an everyday punter mulling over concreter or semi-pro rugby player (jobs heโs worked in a past life).
In a previous interview with B.H., he characterised his opponents as trying to โtake food off my familyโs table.โ
โEvery decision I make is purely for my family. I will put my body on the line, Iโll put my health on the line. Whatever it takes to make sure I have more opportunities for them,โ continues Volkanovski. โThis is the career path I chose, so Iโm going to make sure I do it properly for them.โ
Belcastro recalls the early days when Volkanovski was literally fighting โ in his words โ paycheque to paycheque with a young family. โThe pressure on him back then really shaped who he is today,โ he says.
Now a dad to three daughters โ Ariana (10), Arlie (8), Reign (2) โ with a fourth on the way, you can almost chart Volkanovskiโs rise to prominence in direct correlation with his wife Emmaโs pregnancies: five title defences, #1 pound-for-pound ranking, global superstardom, and all.
โBeing a father, youโre not just fighting for yourself. Youโre fighting for so much more,โ admits Volkanovski.
โMy family, my friends, my team, my supporters, Australia. I fight for all of that before myself. Because all that means more to me than being famous or having money. I only want money for my family.โ
With his familyโs financial well-being secured and a Hall of Fame-worthy title reign already in the books, there was one question the finely-honed Volkanovski was forced to reckon with on his sabbatical: what is a warrior without a war?
โYouโve heard other fighters ask themselves what theyโre going to do after. Because theyโre so dedicated to the chase and the thrill, they need something else,โ explains Belcastro. โI feel like now, Volkโs definitely well-equipped to move on with his life post-fighting. Fighting doesnโt define him anymore.โ
After the consecutive KOs, Volkanovski had the freedom to spend time on himself, on the content, as well as building his brand outside of fighting. โI absolutely loved it,โ he says, grinning ear to cauliflowered ear.
Given his natural charisma, the world reciprocated by embracing him as a brand ambassador for the likes of Hublot and Kia; doubly so as a social media personality for his aforementioned side hustle, Cooking with Volk.
What began as a lighthearted way to engage fans has since grown into a platform with nearly a million followers on its dedicated Instagram account, and 652,000 YouTube subscribers (editorโs note: Volkanovski has since launched a standalone YouTube channel for Cooking with Volk which currently counts close to 100,000 subscribers) โ many of whom, hilariously enough, are blissfully unaware of his pugilistic exploits.
โI stepped back and learned to be more comfortable with myself,โ reveals Volkanovski. โI was comfortable being the fighter, I just wasnโt as comfortable talking to people. I even found it hard to have conversations with old friends.โ
A well-worn habit of answering questions about the next fight, and diligently taking on interview after interview like a good company man, rendered him socially stunted.
โI was learning to be me again,โ reflects Volkanovski.
โBefore, all I had time for was โfighterโ and โdadโ. It was all I cared about โ itโs still all I care about โ but now, Alex is the fighter and the dad. Alex is them guys.โ
The demands of parenthood can reduce your identity to a single role. Add a public-facing career with a rabid fanbase who believe theyโre entitled to bloodshed at your expense, and whatever depth you once had risks being flattened entirely. Fulfil the duty or die.
When we resume our conversation at Freestyle MMA in Windang โ where Volkonovski adds coach to his resume โ he reflects upon the price of greatness over the thudding of bodies against mats.
โI make it sound like a bad thing, the fighterโs identity. It can be hard to balance and understand, but thatโs what it takes to be the best. Especially if you have a family,โ Volkanovski caveats.
Despite the rate at which he was self-immolating to fuel his meteoric rise, given the chance to relive it again, Volkanovski would not change a single detail.
โI guess now I donโt mind talking about it, because I want people to understand that even if you do feel like youโre losing yourself, youโre going to be OK,โ he adds.
โIt wouldโve been better for me to have more time for myself, for my mental health. But would I be the champion that I was?โ
If you were still holding your breath at the opening cliffhanger, rest assured, this story has a happy ending.
Alexander Volkanovskiโs vision gradually returned at UFC 314, allowing him to not only secure a unanimous decision victory, but also reclaim the featherweight belt and become a two-time champion at the unprecedented age of 36 (no UFC athlete south of welterweight and over 35 had ever won a title fight).
This cinematic comeback was punctuated by a soundbite that seasoned marketers could only dream of staging. Staring straight down the barrel of the camera, he declared with the conviction of a man reborn from the ashes: Adversity is a privilege.
โIt wasnโt planned, it wasnโt scripted. Thatโs just how I look at things,โ explains Volkanovski.
โEven if I didnโt win the world championship, I put myself in there. That is what I mean by a โprivilegeโ โ the chance to rebuild yourself.โ
The rarity of Alexander Volkanovskiโs character lies not just in his unpretentious philosophies, nor the unified duality of professional violence and compassion for his fellow man. Itโs his remarkable consistency as a human being.
From phone interviews in his car and breaking bread over long lunches, to gradings at local Brazilian jiu-jitsu academies and whiling away the idle hours at a cover photoshoot โ across the better part of a decade, what I can testify is that there isnโt any distinction between the two-time UFC featherweight champion we place on the pedestal and the father who walks among us on grounded soil.
Prince or pauper, he makes equal time for both.
And unlike his notable namesake, Alex โ just Alex โ harbours no desire to stake a claim upon the known world. An Illawarra farm with decent acreage for his kids to run around in is a kingdom enough.
โWho has time for all that with a family?โ Volkanovski smiles knowingly.
The man at work remembers where he comes from, and while it mightnโt have always been the case, he knows exactly where heโs going.
If youโve enjoyed this cover story interview with Alexander Volkanovski, consider a few more of our favourite stories โ direct from the pages of B.H. Magazine:
- Adrien Brody Is Human After All
- Derek Guy Has Entered The Chat
- The True Cost Of Luxury: Confessions Of A Restaurant Critic
- The Story Of โEastern Brownโ: Designing The B.H. 911 Carrera GTS Cabriolet
- The Empire Steps Back: Western Diplomacy In The Trump Era
- Cam Green On Mindset, Motivation, & Why He Joined Radoโs Ranks
