Floyd Mayweather, Jr. vs. Manny Pacquiao: The Fight That Will Never Be

Cocky, brash, arrogant, are but a few of the adjectives often ascribed to none other than boxing's premiere box office attraction, Floyd Joy Mayweather, Jr. or as he is known now, Floyd "Money" Mayweather. Once upon a time he was the brilliantly scrappy, "Pretty Boy" with the infectious smile, heralded by none other than then promoter Bob Arum, as "the greatest boxer he's ever seen." Now liberated with complete autonomy over his career, the still brilliantly scrappy, isn't regarded as very "Pretty..." but rather a pariah. As far as boxing goes Floyd Mayweather is anything but a pariah. His very presence in the sport has kept it relevant. His innate marketing genius is the reason why his pay per view fights are record breakers and why he has virtually transcended boxing; and he's done it all his way. His business model allows for him to rightfully enjoy unprecedented revenues from each and every bout he headlines. From his purse to the pay per view buys to the concessions and more, Mayweather embodies his moniker, Money. From a sport that leaves more of its participants with nothing more than hard memories, Mayweather, even more so than Sugar Ray Leonard before him, is the architect and face of the fiscally liberated athlete. More significantly, he has single handedly cleaned up the sport, by raising the standards of drug testing, by insisting his opponents, as well as himself be subjected to Olympic style testing. A point of contention for pugilistic simpletons the world over who are actually purchasing the illusion that Manny Pacquiao has the slightest chance at matching fisticuffs with Mayweather.

Allow me to offer this very down to earth assessment of what a Mayweather vs. Pacquiao fight will look like. Manny Pacquiao, who is an all time great, deserving of every accolade and praise heaped upon him has been bestowed the great and wonderful fortune of excellent match making. Far too many a fan neglects the reality that boxing is first and foremost the business of sport, hence the term prizefighting. Therefore, when a trainer, promoter, manager, etc., are granted a talent as exciting as a Pacquiao, if you are wise, and we know Top Rank is, you groom and position that kind of talent to garner the biggest prizes imaginable for as long as you can. Pacquiao has been afforded the great luxury of facing off with fellow marquee and elite fighters who so happen to accomodate his style of fighting. Defenseless, motionless thumpers, who though well regarded, were there for the taking. Erik Morales, Oscar De La Hoya, Ricky Hatton, Miguel Cotto, Antonio Margarito, Shane Mosley, are among the world class crop of foes who have become part of Manny Pacquiao's Greatest Hits reel. Names like that make for a Hall of Fame career. However, names like Juan Manuel Marquez remind us all that even Superman has his kryptonite. So it is with Pacquiao. Thus, as he did this past November 12th  at the Grand MGM Arena and in their previous two bouts, Marquez reminded us all why Manny Pacquiao does not fair well vs. sound boxers. There is no boxer more revered for his pugilistic wizardry than Floyd "Money" Mayweather. Be it his defensive brilliance, his stellar counter punching prowess, his masterful ring generalship, his superhuman conditioning, and over all Einstein like boxing IQ, Floyd "Money" Mayweather is a living nightmare for the Filippino star and everyone from Freddie Roach to the upper echelons of Top Rank know it. The breakdown of this fight, if it should happen is quite clear. Save for a lucky punch from Manny Pacquiao, this will be a Floyd Mayweather showcase analogas to his fight with Arturo Gatti. If you're still unconvinced, think Felix "Tito" Trinidad vs. Bernard Hopkins or Winky Wright or even Oscar De La Hoya. The atmosphere and the thinking are the same as it was then. The whole world believing the near invincibility of Trinidad. Forsaking the dynamics of the Sweet Science for the high of sport's entertainment. I love a good thrill like the next fan, but, we must never lose sight of the reality that boxing has, is, and will always be a science; and the fighter who is most adept at the science is often the victor.

However, should this extravaganza take place the hype will be far more significant than the actual fight. Fueled by the almost universal anticipation of this event, the promotion and the sales for both ticket and pay per view buys will no doubt obliterate records. Yet, in my humble opinion (and I do hope I'm wrong) this massive event will never be. The fighters are hardly at fault. I don't doubt that they themselves want to make it happen. The hold up lies with the business of the sport. Handlers with their own secretive agendas much to the dismay of fans everywhere and to the detriment of the sport itself.


Copyright 2012

Never Can Say Good-Bye

       "Just when I thought I was done, they pull me back in." Famous words from The Godfather III. Believe it or not I had enough of the Sweet Science. I was done with the ridiculous decisions, the bad match ups, and the non match ups that should have been. But, the fight game has got a hold on me. Like a topsy turvy love affair, I just can't walk away. After all, there's still hope. There's always hope. Adrien "The Problem" Broner, the scintillatingly skilled young Jr. lightweight champion from the great fighting City of Cincinnati is definitely one to watch. The rugged Danny Garcia, who recently devastated an overanxious Amir Khan, to remain undefeated, has the boxing world abuzz. Then of course, there is Andre "S.O.G" Ward who, in my humble opinion, is arguably Pound for Pound the Best Boxer on the planet. His resume as of late makes the case for him; and with his recent thrashing of Light Heavyweight champion, "Bad" Chad Dawson it would be hard to disagree. He's that caliber of fighter that makes top tier, even great fighters look average. Ward simply knows how to win, by any means necessary. He's in a class all his own.
          So there you have it fight fans, we have at least a few reasons to still believe, to hope, to hang on to the sport we love. No matter how many pointless match ups between Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez are made. No matter how long the heavyweight division hibernates. No matter how infrequently so called Pound for Pound kingpins decide to "grace" us with their presence. No matter how many undeserved title shots a fighter gets, solely because of the fact that he's a legend's spawn, the Sweet Science will always find a way to resurrect itself time and time again with fighters who remind us what makes this sport so very special.



Copyright 2012
         
       

Carl Froch Won't Even See It Coming

As you might be able to tell from the title of this entry, I am indeed calling the winner in this match up. Carl Froch has no chance this Saturday, December 17 in Atlantic City versus the thoroughly skilled Andre Ward. Froch brings nothing more than his mouth to this match up. Grant it, he's tough and very durable, but, we know that because he is also very hittable. Andre Ward is the best 168 Pounder in the world and in my book second only to Floyd Mayweather, Jr. as the best Pound for Pound fighter on earth.

If this tournament has done anything it has silenced the Ward detractors. Andre Ward has proven to be a solid fighter, with an array of tools. He simply knows how to win. He understands and respects the sport for what it is, but, most importantly he knows himself. Every single opponent he's faced in this tournament has had a come to Jesus moment upon facing him. They found out how exceptionally crafty he is, as did the heavily favored Mikhail Kessler. They found out how strong and powerful he is, as did the once menacing Allan Greene. They come to respect how poised and tough he is, as did the wild swinging Sakio Bika; and they found out how intelligent he is, as did the dangerous Arthur Abraham.


"But let patience have her perfect work, that you maybe perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.*"This has been the Andre Ward way all along. When the critics wanted to rush him; when the detractors thought he was too soft or that his handlers were being too careful, they failed to see he was being perfected. Now the eyes of the masses are open. In perhaps the most hotly contested (and underrated) event in the sport Andre Ward emerges, not only as the leader of the pack, but, the most sound and complete of all its combatants. Not a single contest has even been remotely close. Look for Saturday versus Carl Froch to yield the exact same results. A good, tough, yet, severely limited Carl Froch versus the total package in Andre Ward.


*St. James 1:4


Copyright 2011

No Sport For Old Men

The events which transpired this past Saturday were yet another blight on the already massively marred face of the Sweet Science. Once again, during a major Pay Per View event official incompetence has been the culprit. Who's to blame? Referees who are far beyond their prime. Referees whose officiating of late might cause one to think they are the ones taking the shots instead of the fighters. Pat Russell's hideous officiating is the latest in hideous or at least mediocre officiating that has affected the outcome of a fight, by referees who have obviously over stayed their welcome. Be it Kenny Bayless calling Shane Mosley's near body slam of Manny Pacquiao, a knocked down, in the 10th round of their otherwise uneventful confrontation, Joe Cortez' ADHD style of officiating which aided in the demise of a green Victor Ortiz vs. Floyd Mayweather, to Pat Russell's obvious bout with professional dementia this past Saturday night in calling what was clearly a foul, however unintentional (and I don't believe Dawson's actions were intentional) a TKO, it is becoming abundantly clear that not only is boxing in need of a heavyweight renaissance, but, an officiating one as well. Someone please call Sparkle Lee and Arthur Mercante, Jr.

The greatest offense however is the almost unanimous apathy of the sports world in this matter. Suddenly Bernard Hopkins' conspiracy theory of "them" wanting him out of the game doesn't sound so far fetched after all. Saturday was a travesty for the sport of boxing. Why there are not shouts of outrage from the highest to the lowest rungs of the sport are beyond me. Clearly Hopkins was not faking and for anyone, especially Dawson to make such a claim is absurd. Have we forgotten Hopkins' rematch against the heavy handed Antwon Echols? That was a vivid display of Hopkins' will and courage. After having been picked up and slammed on his shoulder by Echols, who also accused him of faking, Hopkins literally rose to his feet with hell in his eyes and proceeded to punish and eventually knockout Antwon Echols, with one hand. In this mediocre world of ours men like Hopkins are a rare treat. A throwback to men of unapologetic grit. So, no Chad Dawson, Bernard Hopkins was not putting on an act. His balls are firmly embedded on his resume, and if you're half the champion you claim to be or wish to aspire to, it would be advisable that you schedule a rematch expeditiously. Because no matter how much Gary Shaw and his minions whisper in your ears that you don't need him, no matter how silent the press or the California State Athletic Commission attempts to be around this egregious offense, you're a fighter; and try as you might, you cannot lie to yourself. You and every fan knows that this is not how you want to be known for regaining that strap. No matter what Pat Russell and his spectacular idiocy might have ruled, you know full well in places that only God visits you're only a champion on paper. Do the right thing, reschedule a rematch, and erase all doubt.

As for Pat Russell and other officials like him, it is time to hang it up. These are hard financial times for everyone and no fan wants to spend their hard earned cash on a ticket or Pay Per View just to have some official who is clearly not adequate spoil the night. Without a doubt Mr. Russell is one of the greats, but, the party's over, let the lights dim, let the sun set, your time Mr. Russell is up; and if the California State Athletic Commission has any ounce of integrity they will do what is just and strike the loss from Bernard Hopkins' record. The only losers this past Saturday night were the fans.

Copyright 2011

What's Eating Larry Merchant?

Photo by Holger Keigfel

Larry Merchant, like, Andy Rooney, 92 is by many accounts a grumpy old man who has over stayed his welcome. But, for some odd and fantastic reason this so called relic of yesteryear manages to hang on to a job that for many feel would be far better served by a younger analyst. One might say Merchant is a verbal narcissist who loves the sound of his own words and witticisms. He is HBO Boxing's sordid sage, their skeptic oracle. He says what he means and means what he says. No matter how aggravating it might be to fighters, viewers, or his fellow commentators. If honesty is the best policy, then this might very well explain why Merchant in all his geriatric glory has managed to hang on to his HBO post. 

In his defense, Larry Merchant is the only honest voice among that sorry bunch at HBO. To listen to the HBO Boxing telecast is to listen to a diatribe of delusion. Even the once respected Harold Lederman has fallen victim to the fantastic illusions of Jim Lampley's blow by blow commentary. This is what keeps the old man's ticker ticking. This is what actually makes the grumpy old Merchant relevant. While Lampley and friends are literally hoping to talk a fighter into victory, quick draw Merchant actually bothers to see things as they really are and has no problem chin checking his supposedly expert co-commentators. Hark back to Oscar De la Hoya vs. Fernando Vargas, when then HBO commentator, heavyweight great, George Foreman seemed dead set on not crediting  De la Hoya's then trainer, Floyd Mayweather, Sr. with Oscar's obvious improvements, his newly found right hand, defense, and jab. The same thing occurred when HBO commentators refused to accept Bernard Hopkins utter destruction of Felix "Tito" Trinidad while it was happening right before their very eyes. Again, Merchant emerged as the voice of reason and reality.

So, what in the world was Floyd Mayweather thinking when he leveled a tongue lashing upon Merchant, reminiscent of James Toney’s verbal thrashing and near physical thrashing of Jim Gray? Exactly what he said. Indeed, Merchant has a problem with Floyd Mayweather. In fact, Merchant tends to have a problem with most fighters who seem not to grant him a Rocky movie. Merchant has long been one of the leading voices in this ridiculous campaign to question Mayweather’s legacy. If you’re not a human high light reel, ala the late Arturo Gatti, Merchant like many would rather not be bothered. Mayweather’s undefeated record and plethora of accolades seem not to impress Merchant. The fact that he makes world class fighters look mortal merely welcomes more skepticism from the old man. So, when Mayweather knocked out the younger, bigger, supposedly more powerful Victor Ortiz one would think, finally. Not so. Granted the manner in which the knock out came was considered by Mayweather detractors as dirty, but, that is utter and complete nonsense. Victor Ortiz’ incompetence is not his opponent’s problem. “Protect yourself at all times.” Following Ortiz’ point deduction referee Joe Cortez clearly said, “let’s go!” Victor still felt the need to hug and kiss once more, Floyd Mayweather, the professional, proceeded to remind young Victor that he was in a fight. Oddly, the usually honest Merchant seemed to want to play the faux controversy up in his interview. Odd, when you consider that at the time of the knock out he so accurately described it for what it was. It was disappointing to watch Merchant suddenly turn “song and dance man” and play to the crowd, thus, incurring the wrath of Mayweather. I always thought such a thing to be beneath him. Perhaps, it’s the warning signs of dementia or maybe, he’s become a bit too comfortable with the zombies at HBO.

© 2011

Thanks For Nothing: The Aftermath of Wladimir Klitschko vs. David Haye

You would think I'd know better. I'm in the world of show business where hype often outweighs substance. From air brushed starlets to lip synching pop stars to shows that promise you a living Unicorn only to reel you in with a disfigured goat. Some how someway I should have seen the disappointment that was Wladimir Klitschko vs. David Haye coming. How in the world did we miss this? Even some of the fight game’s brightest luminaries were caught hook, line, and sinker. The question that we must ask ourselves is why in the world did we think David Haye would be any different than Klitschko's previous foes? What exactly did he ever bring to make us think he would topple the champion? Hope, that's what. Our deep and secret hope that finally someone with a personality would lift the reigns of domination from Wladimir Klitschko and usher in an era of excitement. All the while knowing, despite his rhetoric and the highlight reels, David Haye had no business in the same zip code as Wladimir Klitschko. Needless to say he had no business receiving the mountain of money he managed to swindle, pardon me, get paid. But, hey “don’t hate the player, hate the game,” I ain’t mad atcha. Any boxer who manages to garner a huge payday for what they put their body through, I say more power to you. Our need, or rather our obsession with finding the next glorious heavyweight led us to this mirage. Why else did we endure the pomp and circumstance which preceded yet another boring Klitschko showcase? We wanted, no, we needed Haye to give us what we've all been craving, EXCITEMENT! 

The Klitschko brothers are ideal sportsmen. High athletic prowess matched with massive intelligence. They just so happen to rule the most lack luster division in all of boxing. Maybe not, but, because it is the heavyweight division which is the standard for all sports, the expectations are far greater. Unfortunately, not only would David Haye fall ridiculously short, with his "I hope to land one lucky punch" tactic, his excuse for his lack of pugilistic engagement vs. Klitschko has got to go down in the pantheon of Sorry Ass Excuses in Sports. "My toe...see!" Heavyweight hopes foiled by a broken toe. Who would have thought? I just assumed he was engaging in a new and innovative method of cowardice. He even had the temerity to take off his shoe and show the world what kept him from living up to his mouth. Pathetic! Sadly for fight fans the heavyweight division continues in the dark cold shadows of obscurity and irrelevance waiting desperately for a Savior. Thanks for nothing David Haye.

© 2011

Wladimir Klitschko vs. David Haye: Finally, A Heavyweight Fight to Write Home About!

We needn't recount the waste land that has become the heavyweight division in recent years. Everyone knows that the little men, like the Mayweathers and Pacquiaos have sustained the sport in a manner that was once exclusive to the heavyweight division. The heavyweight championship of the world was once deemed the most coveted title in all of sports whose champions were household names. The heavyweight division was the matinee idol of all sports. Today its fighters are the least recognized and hardly revered. Talent is not so much the problem as is the lack of that star quality that generates interest. Everything is showbusiness.

It is an interesting misfortune that Wladimir Klitschko has not evoked any passion whatsoever within the sport. He certainly possesses the attributes we so long for our athletes to have. He and his brother, Vitali are multilingual and highly educated. How many athletes, particularly boxers, do you know with doctorate degrees? Also, they have never been caught up in the kind of controversy and scandal that plagues the American athlete. Klitschko comes with no frills, no entourage, no reality show, no trash talk, he just goes about his business; and that may very well be the problem. No matter how much we claim to appreciate the down to earth, blue collar guy - who do we all inevitably pay to see? Not Mr. Blue Collar. Accept it or not, the world of boxing is just violent theater. We want a show and a show needs a star! the public craves a heavyweight that ignites their imaginations. Wladimir Klitschko, like Lennox Lewis before him suffers from an acute form of Larry Holmes Syndrome. This is when a fighter, despite his talents, despite a will to fight anyone put in front of him, despite being a model sportsmen, through no fault of his own has the misfortune of following one of the most thrilling eras of his sport. For Larry Holmes, a tragically underrated champion, it was Muhammed Ali. For Klitschko, the shadow of Mike Tyson still looms far and wide. Just ask Lennox Lewis. Even after Lewis viciously vanquished Tyson, Iron Mike was still the talk of the sport. Indeed, if timing is everything, then time has been particularly unfriendly to the likes of Klitschko.

Enter WBA Champion, David Haye, the handsome and brash Brit with quick hands and serious power, who promises to wallop the reigning Ring Magazine Champion, Wladimir Klitschko. According to a number of accounts, Klitschko's among them, Haye merely talked his way into this fight. If so, then indeed, "the power of life and death are in the tongue." There is an underlying hope that July 2nd in Hamburg, Germany will mean the "death"of the otherwise somber reign of Wladimir Klitschko and the"life" of a new and exciting era in boxing ushered in by the charismatic David Haye. This kind of excitement in the heavyweight division is long overdue; and despite the cries of "Haye's mouth got him this fight," Haye is a legitimate challenge. At least for this particular encounter I will reserve my penchant for predictions. After all, this is the heavyweight division for which one punch can change the fortunes of any fighter, no matter how accomplished they might be. I, like most are on the fence. "The heart says Haye, but, the mind says Klitschko" has been the general theme through out the boxing world. Which is to say, a Haye win would be great for the sport, but, Klitschko is a fantastic hurdle to overcome if that is to happen. Anyway you might call this fight, the heavyweight division, at least for this moment in time has finally recaptured our imaginations and that's very good news for the Sweet Science.



Copyright 2011