LAS VEGAS — The late Cus D’Amato was right. Fighters don’t get old in the gym, the Hall-of-Fame trainer said. They get old all at once after the bell rings for Round 1.
In Round 3 on Saturday night, Manny Pacquio’s foot speed was gone. In Round 5, so was his hand speed. And by Round 7, so was the Pacquiao we had known for 26 years. And all night long, fueled by an effective double jab and a powerful right hand, a Cuban exile named Yordenis Ugas, hammered out a unanimous decision to retain his WBA welterweight title at T-Mobile Arena.
Everything Ugas did exposed that the legendary Pacquiao had come to the moment with an empty gas tank. It left Pacquiao unable to handle an offense he would have shredded not long ago. Ugas was a patient counter-puncher because an aging Pacquiao gave him the time.
So this is how the golden journey of the man who won a record eight titles came to an end. Not with a whimper and not with a bang, but with the drip, drip, drip of his chances falling away.
“This sport is my passion,” Pacquiao said after the loss. “That’s why I’m still here, fighting at the age of 42. I’m enjoying it, but sometimes you have to think about the response of your body. My mind, my heart, it’s 100%. But my legs were cramping.”
The offensive blue print Ismael Salas, Ugas’ trainer, plotted was designed to prey on the fallibility of man with aging legs and reflexes. They knew what they were doing.
Pacquiao never surrendered. He kept fighting the good but ineffective fight. Could he feel it? Did he know it? He said as much. But he could not leave the dance with the girl that he brought there. The party was over and he knew it.
“I’ve done a lot for boxing, and boxing has done a lot for me,” Pacquiao said. “I look forward to spending a lot of time thinking about my future in boxing.”
They knew it in his corner, where trainer Freddie Roach presided. It was Freddie, the teacher, who had taken the raw, unpolished jewel that showed up at the Wild Card Gym so long ago and gave him the refinement that turned him into a legend. When Pacquiao went out for the 12th and final round, knowing he needed a knockout, he reached down for the tools that had served him do well.
He tried. He attacked. But the sting was gone and he caught more than he threw. At the bell, Ugas raised his arms in triumph. Pacquiao ran to the ropes, climbed a strand and reached for the ceiling with a smile. It wasn’t chest-pounding gesture. It wasn’t an I-think-I-won pantomime. It was thank-you-and-goodbye.
After the referee raised Ugas’ arm following the words “winner and new champion …” Pacquiao made his was way across the ring to Ugas’ corner, congratulated him and posed for two pictures with him. Then Ugas bowed to him from the waist with both hands touching palms inward in almost a semi-religious gesture of respect.
“Congratulations,” Pacquiao said. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
Ugas replied and then he left. Pacquiao walked back across the ring one last time toward his corner and Roach. He raised his arms one last time and then it began:
“Manny! Manny! Manny!”
A slow undercurrent at first and then, as more and more picked it up, louder and louder until it reached a crescendo that seemed to rock the arena. They were standing now, all of them, and stamping their feet in unison. Pacquiao threw kisses at them.
Later, close to midnight in Las Vegas, Pacquiao sat at a dais at the post-fight press conference. He wore a blue sports jacket, red shirt and sunglasses. He talked about his immediate future — his run for president of the Philippines. If he should lose the election next spring, and he is polling behind several other candidates, he could return to the ring for one more big pay day, though by that time be might be 44.
“I did my best, but my best wasn’t good enough,” Pacquiao said. “I am a fighter and I will continue fighting. You may not see me in the ring again, but in my heart, I will fight for all people. The ring is important to me but most important is what you do for other people. Thank you, all of you. And thank you, boxing.
“This is my statement to all the boxing fans all over the world: The most important thing is how we can help each other, especially in this pandemic.”
It was a valedictory worth of a 26-year career. Hell, it was a valedictory worthy of any career.
