Robbie Lawler, that great dropper of jaws, is a hard one to figure out

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For whatever reason we’ve come to accept the fact with minimal understanding, but Robbie Lawler has emerged as the most remarkable son of a bitch in the game. He does everything we don’t expect him to. We peg him a mediaphobe, he begins to shine (in his own weird way) under the duress of the digital recorder. We think he’s a bit inward, he shows up at every UFC event like the very face of the franchise. We think he wants to brawl and put on Fight of the Nights, he says no sir, he wants to win fast and get home. We think he’s washed up at 30, and he morphs into your prototypical shark-eyed killer at 34. We think he’s Iowa, and he becomes full-time Florida. We believe he’s mercenary enough to understand how a bout with Conor McGregor would line his pockets, he says that’s a laughably bad idea, because he would literally pull the Irishman’s soul out through his neck cavity after ripping his head off, bend it like a aural slingshot, and shoot McGregor’s carcass through the roof.I’m embellishing a little on that last part, but only a little.  He’s gotten tanner, too. One might say he’s gotten preternaturally tan, like the sun is inside of him shining out. And you know what else? “Ruthless” Robbie Lawler would look pretty natural holding a shiv. Don’t tell me that thought hasn’t crossed your mind.No, Lawler is immensely interesting, both in and out of the cage. Yet as he gets set to defend his title for the welterweight third time against Tyron Woodley at UFC 201 on Saturday night, the casual interest in him remains lukewarm. This has become the marvel within the marvel. No, he’s not a wordsmith. But his hands are fistsmiths.Lawler opened 2016 by putting on a Fight of the Year candidate against Carlos Condit, which felt like it was a gift …

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