When Pablo Torre and correspondent Dave Fleming stumbled upon an obscure MMA match from April 2023, they uncovered what might be the sport’s most unconventional—and surprisingly effective—combat technique. In a bantamweight matchup between Tim Fargo and Mason Lewis, the world witnessed something unprecedented: an MMA star escaping a submission hold through tickling, ultimately winning the contest.
The viral moment showed Lewis trapped in a reverse triangle headlock, his face reddening as Fargo’s thighs locked around his head. Conventional wisdom suggested punching his way out, which Lewis initially attempted. But then, in a move that stunned viewers worldwide, Lewis deployed what he calls
“goooo gaga tickle fingers”
on Fargo’s exposed foot. The strategy worked—Fargo’s grip loosened, Lewis escaped and went on to win by decision.
Dr. Shimpe Ishyama, a neuroscientist at the Central Institute of Mental Health in Germany and one of the world’s leading tickling experts, explained the neurological basis for why this tactic could be devastatingly effective. Tickling activates neurons in the somatosensory cortex, the brain region responsible for touch, temperature, pressure and pain sensations.
“It’s an overwhelming of the nervous system,”
Fleming observed, comparing it to childhood experiences of being held down by siblings. The phenomenon, scientifically known as “gargalysis”—the vigorous type of tickling that produces laughter—has only been observed in humans, some primates and surprisingly, rats.
Research reveals that tickling creates what Socrates described as
“a sensation of both pain and pleasure.”
Modern science suggests it evolved as mock warfare training, preparing juveniles for real combat by teaching defensive strategies. Ironically, this prehistoric survival mechanism might now revolutionize modern competition.
Despite clear video evidence of tickling’s effectiveness, the MMA establishment remains dismissive. John “Big John” McCarthy, former UFC referee and chair of the Association of Boxing Commissions rules committee, reluctantly acknowledged tickling’s legality while downplaying its effectiveness.
“Let me tell you something. If you want to tickle me while I’m punching the [c—] out of you in the face, go ahead and try,”
McCarthy stated, though he later admitted the technique could work as a distraction, causing MMA stars to
“lose what is going to be the finish of a fight.”
Lewis, the pioneering tickler, proved far more philosophical about his technique than expected. A 23-year-old amateur competitor who practices daily meditation and journals extensively about his performance, Lewis explained his calculated decision:
“I thought that he got me in that lock… and I knew people are ticklish. People let go. So I figured if I tickled his foot he might let go. And he did let go.”
Lewis, who describes himself as
“very ticklish”
due to growing up as the youngest of six siblings with
“three older stepbrothers and two older sisters,”
isn’t ashamed of his unconventional approach. When asked if he’d tickle again, his response was unequivocal:
“100%. If that’s what it takes.”
The tickling controversy highlights MMA’s selective rule enforcement. While the sport prohibits fish hooking, eye gouging and
“clawing, pinching, or twisting of the flesh,”
tickling remains conspicuously absent from the banned techniques list—a gap that savvy competitors like Lewis are beginning to exploit.
Even Sexual Chocolate Ortiz, a 185-pound MMA star who witnessed Lewis’s original tickle tactic, praised the strategy:
“It’s the art of war, man. It’s like science out there. We’re not just fighters. I consider us scientists, experimentalists.”
Lewis’s tickling approach represents something larger than a viral moment—it’s a reminder that in combat sports, innovation often comes from the most unexpected sources. Whether tickling becomes a legitimate discipline or remains a novelty act, one thing is certain: Mason Lewis has permanently changed how MMA stars and fans think about the boundaries of mixed martial arts strategy.
