Those who know are religiously adhering to a mutually agreed to a gag order.
That in itself, in the tell all world of big time boxing, is an entry for “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.”
At first, I did not believe it but each passing day bears it out. No verbal hand grenades, no Molotov cocktails of insult and innuendo. There’s peace in the valley except for a few pugilistic pipsqueaks.
Those who don’t know, the third hand and fourth hand parties to the third and fourth parts–fringe elements, really–are flapping their gums and saying nothing.
In America’s patriotic fervor after the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, there were posters that advised one and all: “Loose lips sink ships.”
When it comes to the slowly gathering steam Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao super fight, the sealed shut lips bode well for those who want to see the titantic become a reality.
Pacland
Look, we’re all reading breadcrumbs and staring at portentous (?) tea leaves, like Madame Auring in a stupor really, because those who know aren’t talking.
It’s those who don’t know who are making comments, the Under Assistant West Coast Promo Man (remember the great Rolling Stones tune?) types, who are chatting idly.
Me, I am getting tired of checking out Bubbly Bob Arum’s groovy, 1970s mood ring but it continues to flash amber red for happy, for giddy and for being delighted.
I don’t think, and I could be wrong, it’s merely promoting Rapping Rabbi Yuri Foreman and drawing 30,000 this coming Saturday night to Yankee Stadium (home of the Al East’s third best team, you will learn at season’s end as Tampa nips the Red Sox for the division crown, book it, Danno) that has Arum emotionally floating.
So now, without further adieu, more breadcrumbs, more tea leaves…
Both sides are keeping their (legal) powder dry. A few weeks ago, Pacquiao’s attorney deposed Oscar de la Hoya and Richie Rich Schaefer, the Tweedlee and Tweedledum of Golden Boy, in the Pinoy Idol’s defamation lawsuit.
One snippy insider told me that Oskie and RR got “chopped up” and that “revelations” were to be found within the deposition held in Los Angeles.
Yet the Arum hired and Arum inspired legal beagles have made no effort to circulate the deposition transcripts.
Clearly, that is because the Pacquiao side doesn’t want to set up any excuse which could derail good faith negotiations for the Megafight in November.
On to the next breadcrumb…
Presumably, a guiding hand behind such negotiations is low key publicly but sometimes forceful privately Ross Greenburg, the president of HBO Sports.
If he’s not pushing both the Pacman and Mayweather camps to work it all out, at least Ross The Boss is there as a referee of sorts if they get bogged down, be it on blood testing or what color stripes each fighter will have on his trunks.
I say this to bring to your attention that Thursday night when all time NFL great Jim Brown and former heavyweight contender George Chuvalo (check out Chuvalo-Patterson on Youtube or somewhere, what a fight) “toast” Arum at the Friar’s Club in midtown Manhattan, Greenburg is on the list of speakers.
Greenburg is coming to toast and not roast Uncle Bob.
I know, I know, it’s just a tiny tidbit, piled next to an assortment of other tiny tidbits but don’t they add up to a snack if not a full meal?
If this fight comes together, expect the suits on both sides to require immediate surgery as one outdoes the next in self congratulatory back slapping.
Truth is, you would have to be a dolt to blow this one, especially with all key parties, including Manny and Floyd, not blowing things up with any incendiary statements, allegations or the like.
The Super Fight won’t be fully made this week as Arum will be a trifle distracted with the Cotto-Foreman show.
But it’s plain to see that it’s been Todd duBoef who has been pulling the heavy sled for Pacquiao with Herr Schaefer laying the concrete foundation on the Mayweather side.
They say Mayweather is on vacation somewhere. Pacman, Jinkee and the kids are heading to Mexico next week for a holiday of their own making.
Let the gladiators rest. Let Manny take his customary Boxing Writer bows alongside Master Freddie Roach this Friday.
As a good soldier for Arum, Pacman will sit ringside near second base and watch as Foreman (or so it says here) outpoints Cotto.
Don’t go for the hidden ball tricks.
Arum lables the silence “deafening,” but I disagree.
The silence from both sides of the table is the sweetest music any real boxing fan can ask for.
Get a contract done, get it signed.
Then comes the Big Noise, the cacaphony.
Until then, it’s just tea leaves and breadcrumbs, no more, no less.
