There is something special about a Manny Pacquiao fight.
Outside the ring, his renaissance man-like life covering politics, sports and entertainment is followed intensely and documented with meticulous focus.
It is not the cult of celebrity that surrounds and emanates from him though that makes a Pacquiao fight an experience.
In the late-eighties and early-nineties it was Mike Tyson who held the boxing world in his grasp because he delivered what we expected: a demolition: a hard, tight block of power shots and uppercuts that brought his opponents to their knees.
In a Manny Pacquiao fight it is the unexpected that keeps us coming back.
In the mid-nineties essay ?The Black Intellectual and the Sport of Prizefighting? Gerald Early contextualized the differences between the black and white fighter:
?They (white fighters) were expected to win as (Jess) Willard had against (Jack) Johnson: take punishment, then land the ultimate blow. To be sure, there have been black fighters known as punchers; Sonny Liston comes to mind as does former heavyweight champion Mike Tyson, though neither of these fellows would be considered nearly, to borrow from A. J. Liebling, as ?gauche and inaccurate? as Rocky Marciano, who, along with Dempsey, is the most mythical of the white fighters. But the greatest black fighters in the twentieth century and the most famous and highly regarded by experts were Tricksters of style: Jack Johnson, Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Sugar Ray Leonard.?
What makes Pacquiao unique is that he at times exemplifies both of Early?s examples, at times showing the hard-headed, big punch, workman-like, palooka boxing of the great white fighters while incorporating the stylistic, ability driven, rhythm fighting of the great black fighters.
I would say in comparison Pacquiao is more in tune stylistically with Muhammad Ali than any of his contemporaries in that you never know what is coming into the ring.
Like a jazz musician, Ali surely had an idea of his game plan going into the fight, but the game plan evolved as the fight went on, plan B was improvised from Plan A.
With Ali you truly never saw the same fight twice.
?All great fighters make it up as they go along, and Cassius was one of the most innovative and imaginative fighter I ever saw,? legendary trainer Angelo Dundee wrote about ?The Greatest? in ?A View From the Corner?. ?He could imitate the style of any fighter, something very few fighters could do. Sometimes you?d see him imitating the slick moves of Willie Pastrano or Luis Rodriguez, two fighters he watched training at the 5th Street Gym. Other times you?d see him doing his best impression of some of Jersey Joe Walcott?s ?sand-dancing? moves, or the moves of other fighters whose styles he admired.?
In his fight with Miguel Cotto, Pacquiao, clearly in control of the fight, showed an impression of the ?rope a dope?, back to ropes, guard up, taking the best of Cotto?s punches, at the same time taking some of Cotto?s strength.
In his fight with Ricky Hatton, Pacquiao initiated his version of ? the phantom punch?.
A comparison to his contemporary rival Floyd Mayweather Jr. is an interesting one. Mayweather is a defensive mastermind and watching a Mayweather fight is equivalent to watching a no-hitter in baseball, a combination of style and technique that is masterful to watch.
Watching Pacquiao fight cannot be put into baseball terms, unless of course the pitcher is also belting home runs.
This is not to say Pacquiao is a better boxer than Mayweather, but Mayweather has cultivated a defined style. Pacquiao, who began his career as a bruiser, refined his technique and style later in his career when he found trainer Freddie Roach.
Roach, in essence, taught the pit bull ballet.
Antonio Margarito can watch all the tapes he wants of Pacquiao, but when the ?Tijuana Tornado? steps into the ring on November 13 it will be a fight unlike any he has experienced before.
And it will be a fight unlike any we have seen before.
