Something strange happened within the run-up to Noche UFC, the second annual celebration of Mexican Independence Day. For the primary time since I got into MMA through the McGregor era and fell in love with the game through the pandemic, I skipped all my UFC fight week traditions. I didn’t watch a single episode , didn’t watch the press conference on Thursday or the ceremonial weigh-ins on Friday. And I actually didn’t have my usual “one more sleep” nerves heading into Saturday. It’s clear to me now that my lack of enthusiasm was a product of uncertainty, which breeds reserve, not curiosity.

Almost all the pieces on Saturday night’s card had me and other fans scratching our heads, starting with its amalgamation of a reputation: UFC 306: Riyadh Season Noche UFC. And then there was the promotion’s star. No, not the homegrown, hype-machine-produced Sean O’Malley, and even Mexico’s Alex Grasso, but quite The Sphere (or just “The Sphere,” as it was referred to throughout the printed). The Mexican-inspired Fight Night, which had by some means change into a numbered pay-per-view presented by a series of festivals in Saudi Arabia, boasting an arena as its important attraction, left me with questions that the sights and sounds of a typical fight week couldn’t answer. Instead, those questions were answered by the usual brilliance of probably the most production-oriented combat sports promotion this side of WWE.

When it was first reported, the most affordable seat in the home would cost over $2,000, I wondered if the more passionate Mexican and Mexican-American fight fans would not find the money for to accept the regular fighters with high salaries and company bank cards. Those fears were put to rest once I heard the group cheer for Raúl Rosas Jr. as he walked toward the octagon before the primary preliminary fight of the night. I did my best Irish accent and asked once I discovered that 4 fighters I’d never heard of were opening the important card. And lo and behold, these were the 2 most entertaining fights of the night, with Esteban Ribovics and Daniel Zellhuber receiving Fight of the Night bonuses that would have just as easily gone to Ronaldo Rodriguez and Ode’ Osbourne. And, like Sean O’Malley he had an issue with himself At one point I noticed with interest that soon turned to ambivalence that the venue was being promoted greater than the then bantamweight champion at the highest of the bill. I don’t learn about him, but I understood why by the tip of the night, because the suspense surrounding what a sporting event at The Sphere might appear to be paid off greater than the one-sided thrashing most educated fans accurately predicted he would receive within the important event.

But greater than anything, the important query I had before last night was why did the UFC’s first and potentially only show at The Sphere happen on Mexican Independence Day? As Noche UFC approached, I assumed that perhaps an event featuring Conor McGregor or Jon Jones could be an even bigger popular culture spectacle, International Fight Week would result in easier branding, and UFC 300, which fans and pundits alike made a mistake of underestimatingwould allow for a deeper card. Again, the event itself convinced me of its merits in a way that no moment or press conference confrontation could have prepared me for.

No other alternative I had in mind, a more fitting Sphere card, would have produced the breathtaking story of Noche UFC. The six interludes, produced by Oscar-winning filmmaker Carlos López Estrada of Antigravity Academy, made excellent use of The Sphere’s capabilities, transporting viewers through Mexican history with images that were awe-inspiring even on a television screen. Ancient civilizations, heroic freedom fighters, spiritual traditions, iconic combat athletes, and the virtues of Mexican culture were honored with Lucasian light and magic. Eight first- and second-generation Mexicana Octagon girls paraded between rounds in stunning costumes inspired by their shared heritage.

Despite the important event, the fights themselves matched the spectacle of the evening in a way that only high-level MMA drama can, especially when it’s done to honor the fighting spirit of a culture. Minutes after a brief film told the story of the indigenous warriors, the primary people to fight for the land now often called Mexico, Mexican flyweight Ronaldo Rodriguez escaped two near-death submissions to carry out for a unanimous decision over Ode’ Osbourne. Right after that, Mexico City native Daniel Zellhuber fought Argentine Esteban Ribovics in a mad, button-mashing frenzy, losing on the cards but gaining fans like me who were watching him fight for the primary time. And despite a lackluster performance from former women’s flyweight champion Alexa Grasso, I used to be on the sting of my seat, seemingly once per round, attempting to get Valentina Shevchenko to tap.

Much just like the 300 events that preceded them, UFC 306 has images which might be perpetually etched in my memory; exciting moments that I might have never predicted based on the names on the cardboard and the hype that preceded it.

I do not know if Noche UFC turned out to be “the greatest sporting event of all time,” as UFC CEO Dana White said promised in July. During his post-fight press availability, White admitted that it could be as much as the audience to choose whether the evening lived as much as those expectations. I’m generally a bit of allergic to creating such grandiose statements. But I’ll admit that Noche UFC was probably the most impressively produced televised sporting event I’ve ever seen—higher than any Super Bowl, NBA Finals, or WrestleMania I’ve ever watched.

It was a spectacle I couldn’t quite persuade myself to expect, but one I’ll always remember. If you’re still with me, scroll or click through the photos below to see what made the night so memorable.