Collin struggled beneath Mateusz Garmrond's crushing pressure, his back pressed against the mat as the Polish fighter worked to secure control.
He wasn't making it easy.
Every time Garmrond tried to adjust his grip, Collin would create just enough space to disrupt the transition.
He wasn't a complete novice on the ground, his natural athleticism, balance, and instincts kept him alive.
But survival wasn't winning.
And Garmrond knew it.
Slowly, the Polish fighter shifted his weight, flattening Collin out, inching toward a more dominant position.
Collin's corner erupted with yells.
"Move your hips! Don't let him settle!"
"Turn into him! Frame! Frame!"
The grappling coaches were losing their minds, but it didn't matter, Collin was fighting off instincts, not technique. And instincts alone weren't going to save him for long.
Garmrond attempted to shift to full mount, but Collin buckled his hips, twisting his torso just in time to stop it.
