A takedown is any technique that brings a standing opponent to the mat under control, and almost every one you'll see in the UFC is a variation of three moves: the double leg, the single leg, and the trip. Wrestlers spend years drilling the setups and finishes for each, because the same grip can end a fight three different ways depending on how the opponent reacts. Knowing which one you're watching turns a confusing scramble into something you can actually follow.
The double leg
The double leg is the most common takedown in MMA, and it's usually the first one a wrestler learns. The attacker drops their level — bending the knees to get their hips lower than the opponent's — then drives forward and wraps both arms around the opponent's legs, usually just above or below the knees.
From there, the finish is either a lift or a drive. Lifting means standing up with the opponent's legs trapped and putting them down on their back. Driving means walking or running the opponent backward until their base gives out and they fall. The double leg works because it removes both legs at once, leaving the opponent almost nothing to balance on.
It's also the takedown most associated with pure wrestling background, because it rewards exactly the qualities a wrestling career builds: a fast level change, a strong forward drive off the legs, and the strength to control two limbs at once. Fighters with a wrestling base tend to reach for it first when they want to change a fight from striking to grappling.
The single leg
The single leg attacks one leg instead of two, which trades some power for more options. The attacker secures one of the opponent's legs — often by shooting in low and catching it, or by catching a kick out of the air — and controls it with both arms while staying on their feet.
That one-leg grip opens several different finishes. A fighter can lift the leg and "run the pipe," circling around it until the opponent hops on one foot and loses balance. They can trip the standing leg out with their own foot or shin. Or they can simply keep driving forward, using their head and shoulder against the opponent's hip, until the opponent topples backward. Because there are multiple ways to finish it, a defended single leg often turns into an extended scramble — both fighters fighting for grips and footing — rather than ending immediately the way a clean double leg can.
The single leg is also the more common counter-takedown. Fighters catch kicks out of the air and convert them into single-leg takedowns constantly, which is one reason kicking against a strong wrestler carries real risk.
The trip
A trip doesn't rely on lifting or driving through an opponent's legs at all. Instead, the attacker uses their own leg, foot, or hip to sweep or block one of the opponent's legs while pushing or pulling them off balance, usually from a clinch — the position where both fighters are gripping each other at close range.
Trips matter most against bigger or heavier opponents, or late in a fight when a fighter is too tired to drive through a double or single leg. Rather than out-muscling someone to the mat, a trip uses their own weight and balance against them, which is why it shows up so often in the clinch against the fence, where a fighter already has grips to work with and doesn't need to shoot in from distance.
How takedowns actually start
Almost no takedown attempt begins cold. Fighters set them up with strikes, feints, or movement that gets the opponent reacting the wrong way — a jab that draws the hands up before a level change underneath it, or forward pressure that backs an opponent toward the fence, where their retreat options run out.
The clinch is the other major entry point. Once fighters are tied up at close range, trips and short-range single legs become available without the risk of shooting in from a distance and eating a punch on the way down. That's part of why fighters who want to control where a fight happens often work to get into the clinch first, rather than attempting a takedown from open space. For more on how that space is used strategically, see how UFC scoring works, which covers why judges score effective grappling — including successful takedowns — on equal footing with effective striking.
Why the takedown attempt matters even when it fails
A takedown doesn't have to land to affect a fight. An opponent who sprawls — dropping their hips and legs backward to stop a shot — burns energy doing it, and a fighter who stuffs takedown after takedown for three rounds is working just as hard as the one attempting them. Judges also credit a takedown attempt differently than a successful one; effective offense counts, but a takedown that's stopped cold contributes little to a round compared to one that lands and produces control or damage.
Repeated failed attempts can also open other opportunities. A fighter sprawling to defend a double leg exposes their neck and head to strikes from above, which is why some wrestlers use takedown attempts as much to set up striking as to actually get a fight to the ground.
What to watch for
Once you can tell the three apart, watching a clinch or a scramble gets much easier to follow. A double leg looks like a shoulder driving into the hips with both arms wrapped low. A single leg looks like one leg trapped and the fight moving around it. A trip looks like a sweep from close range with no lift at all.
None of the three is "better" than the others in any absolute sense — the right one depends on distance, position, and what the opponent gives up. Watch the next card with that in mind, and a takedown attempt stops looking like a fighter just charging forward and starts looking like a specific, chosen tool for a specific moment in the fight. A fighter like Merab Dvalishvili, who attempts takedowns at one of the highest rates in the sport, makes a useful study — watch how often he changes which of the three he's using inside a single round.