There are fights that define a division.
There are fights that define a career.
And then there are fights like this one — the kind that feel like they define a country.
On 23 November 2025, inside the packed, roaring cauldron of Hala Tivoli, Slovenia’s own Monika “Pitbull” Kučinič walks back into the fire she once crawled out of with a broken jaw and a nation chanting her name. Across from her stands Marina “Armata” Merchuk, a Russian striker with artillery in her hands and something to prove after the most painful setbacks of her career.
This isn’t just a strawweight showdown.
This is a psychological street fight wrapped in gloves, nationalism, redemption, and the cold logic of title contention.
This is BRAVE CF 102 — Slovenia vs Russia, resilience vs firepower, Pitbull vs Armata — and the Mirror would call it exactly what it is:
A war disguised as a sporting event.
A Homecoming Written in Metal Plates and Scar Tissue
Nobody arrives at a main card on a three-fight winning streak after grinding through the divisions of Europe without collecting a few scars. Kučinič has more than most — not just metaphorically but literally.
At BRAVE CF 88, she fought ten minutes with a broken jaw.
Not bruised. Not cracked.
Broken.
She ate a head kick, went down hard, and still forced herself through the storm. She managed distance, traded shots, and won a split decision while her jaw hung together on nothing but adrenaline, instinct, and whatever gene turns ordinary fighters into folklore.
After surgery, she emerged with two metal plates and a mission:
Become BRAVE CF’s first female champion.
That’s not media hype — Kučinič said it publicly, repeatedly, and without compromise. She wants to kick the doors open for women in BRAVE CF, not as a token, but as a standard. And if she gets past Merchuk in her home city, she’ll stand right in front of a title shot.
But here’s the twist:
Nobody in that arena will see the plates under her skin — but they’ll feel them.
Every punch she throws is welded to her comeback. Every step into the cage echoes a year spent repairing what was broken — physically, emotionally, professionally.
The Mirror loves a comeback story.
But this one is more than a comeback.
This is a resurrection.
Across the Cage: A Russian Army of One
If Kučinič is the local warrior spirit, Merchuk is the visiting army — literally, given her nickname: “Armata.”
Russia produces fighters like factories produce steel — endless, hardened, lethal. Merchuk is exactly that type:
60% KO/TKO finishing rate Aggressive forward-pressure striking Years surviving bruising gym wars in the Russian regional circuit Losses only by decision — never once stopped
In another world, she’d be the hero of this story — the fighter who drags herself through injuries and insists that spirit matters more than gender.
“This sport is harsh and difficult. If there is a dream, you hold on with all your strength.”
— Marina Merchuk
But this isn’t another world.
This is Ljubljana.
And she is the invader.
She lost twice to Anna Safeeva — a fellow Russian who also happens to be the fighter who beat Kučinič back in 2023. Those defeats burn. They pressure-cook her career. And they sharpen the stakes of this fight into a blade.
Beat Kučinič — the Slovenian star fighting at home — and suddenly the entire Strawweight division has to take Marina Merchuk seriously again.
Lose, and she becomes a footnote in someone else’s ascent.
Merchuk hasn’t come to Slovenia to be a supporting character.
She’s here to detonate the entire narrative.
A Cage Split in Two: Pitbull vs Armata
Every great fight has a metaphor.
This one has two of them.
1. The Pitbull — the animal that refuses to back down.
Kučinič fights like a fuse that never quite burns out. Pressure, heart, pace, and that Slovenian grit that makes her fights feel like thunderstorms. She can grapple, she can strike, she can improvise under fire. Her jaw survived what should’ve ended her night — and somehow she got better afterwards.
2. The Armata — the military force rolling forward.
Merchuk hits like a missile system. Her combinations are violent, crisp, and built to force panic. Most women fold under her pressure. And even those who beat her never break her.
This isn’t striker vs grappler.
This is striker vs striker, artillery vs iron will, fire vs fire.
But the true battlefield here isn’t the cage floor.
It’s Kučinič’s jaw.
The situation doesn’t sugarcoat it — that jaw is a story in itself.
Every big Merchuk shot lands with a question:
Will it hold?
The Weight of Slovenia
BRAVE CF doesn’t just visit Slovenia — it belongs to Slovenia.
President Mohammed Shahid says it plainly:
“No country has embraced BRAVE CF like Slovenia.”
Hala Tivoli has become one of the promotion’s spiritual homes — and the Slovenian fans return the love with noise that can rattle your sternum. They chant names like they’re calling warriors into battle.
At BRAVE CF 88, when Kučinič went down, the arena didn’t go quiet.
It roared.
It dragged her back to her feet.
It carried her through the final rounds.
This time, she’s not walking in as a rising contender.
She’s walking in as a symbol.
When she steps out from behind the curtain, Slovenia rises. And that matters. The Mirror knows momentum isn’t technical — it’s atmospheric. If Merchuk plans to silence the home crowd, she must punch through something much thicker than air.
The Hidden War: Their Stories Collide
Kučinič’s Fight for Freedom
She’s been open about the trauma of her past coaching environment.
“I felt like a prisoner.”
This fight, this career, this moment — they’re all chapters in her escape. She isn’t just fighting for the belt. She’s fighting for ownership of her life.
Merchuk’s Fight for Legacy
She doesn’t have the crowd.
She doesn’t have the narrative.
But she has the hunger — the kind born in cold gyms where losing means disappearing from the rankings, the scene, the conversation.
She’s lost to Safeeva twice.
She can’t afford another setback.
She needs a statement — and nothing makes a statement like silencing an entire arena.
And Then There’s the Title Picture
A Kučinič win makes her the undeniable next-in-line for the first-ever BRAVE CF women’s belt.
A Merchuk win throws the entire division into chaos.
This is not just a fight.
This is a referendum.
Tactics? Forget Subtlety — This Is a Collision
Both women can strike.
Both can finish.
Both have never been finished.
This makes the tactical breakdown beautifully simple:
Kučinič needs chaos.
Volume, pressure, mixing in clinch moments, testing Merchuk’s gas tank. Making this fight physical, ugly, relentless.
Merchuk needs clarity.
Distance. Clean shots. The faster exchanges. Landing early and landing often — especially to the head of a woman with a rebuilt jaw.
This one feels like a three-round war, a decision drenched in blood, sweat, and national tension.
Final Word: A Fight That Lives Beyond the Cage
The Pitbull returns home.
The Armata marches into enemy territory.
And Slovenia stands ready to erupt.
This isn’t just a fight card.
It’s a test of will, bone, memory, and national pride.
It’s a geopolitical chess match played with fists.
It’s the kind of fight that ends careers, cements legacies, or forges champions.
On November 23rd, the lights hit the cage.
The crowd rises.
The doors close.
And the Mirror will write this in real time:
Either Ljubljana witnesses a homecoming or an invasion.
But it will not witness a quiet night.
doragon sports 