WE are working on a 164-page bookazine called 100 Greatest Boxers and, as you can imagine, the debate that we in the office and historians Bob Mee and George Zeleny have had trying to finalise the list has been, at times, colourful.
Some of us felt more strongly about certain positions than others, with talking points that stand out as whether Muhammad Ali should go above Henry Armstrong, if Evander Holyfield should go above Larry Holmes, who should be higher, Gene Tunney, Jack Dempsey or Rocky Marciano and whether the Klitschkos should be included.
Ultimately, a list has been formed and the magazine will be available at the end of April.
One flashpoint in negotiations came when it was suggested that Manny Pacquiao should not be in the top 100 but Floyd Mayweather should, and the Grand Rapids man should figure high on the list, too.
I argued Pacquiao?s case, and did receive a fair amount of support.
But, with the descenting voice allied with a recent article in a once-respected boxing magazine, I found myself wondering whether the Manny I have had the privilege of seeing from ringside is as good as I think he is.
There are elements of Pacquiao that set him apart from the crowd, speed and power being two of them. Then there is his unique, high-volume style and constant movement. The way he has dismantled exceptional fighters has, at times, been awe-inspiring.
But there are detractors, and many of them.
And they all have a point, although I do not necessarily agree with them.
They cite his early losses, against Rustico Torrecampo (l ko 3) and Medgoen Singsurat (l rsf 3) and say great fighters do not lose to that calibre opponent, although they were both decent (Pacquiao was badly weight drained for Singsurat and lost his flyweight title on the scales before losing in the ring).
They say great fighters should not have struggled with the likes of Nedal Hussein and that he lost the first fight with Juan Manuel Marquez ? flooring the Mexican three times in the first but losing the majority of the remaining rounds – when the final result was a draw.
Then he lost to Erik Morales before, three years later, going nip and tuck with Marquez and just edging his great rival ? a knockdown proving the difference for the super-featherweight crown. Then came his extraordinary achievements at higher weights.
The critics say it did not matter that he won the WBC lightweight crown because he only levelled limited David Diaz.
Then, in a fight in which many feared for his safety because of the size difference, he pummelled Oscar De La Hoya. He blew away Ricky Hatton, handing the Brit his only career loss at 10-stone and then battered Miguel Cotto, widely outscored Joshua Clottey and shelled Antonio Margarito for 12 rounds. Then he dominated Shane Mosley and was pushed to the wire once more by bogeyman Juan Manuel Marquez.
Naysayers, however, point out Diaz?s fistic limitations. They say Oscar was finished and De La Hoya admits he got making weight all wrong. They say Hatton was never that good and that Cotto struggled to make the catchweight limit and that he was damaged goods anyway, after Antonio Margarito had put his controversial hands on him. Clottey was strong but not top class while Margarito was now said to be washed up, having previously been thrashed by Mosley. When Pacquiao fought a veteran Sugar Shane, flooring him in round three before the old champion became defensive, they said Manny could no longer pull the trigger and then, in the third Marquez scrap, they said his style had been found out.
You just can?t please some people.
The truth is, you can shoot holes in almost any record if you want to. You can say opponents were washed up, had not reached their peak, were not right at the time, they fought away from home and so on.
You can, of course, also find fault with Mayweather?s CV if you choose to.
You can say he did not fight the best available fighters at the time, that he should have lost to Jose Luis Castillo in their first fight, that he beat DeMarcus Corley after Corley had a long lay-off after losing to Zab Judah, that Arturo Gatti, popular though he was, was not the best light-welterweight in the world and had more miles on the clock than a Model T Ford. At light-welter, Floyd did not meet Zab Judah (that came at welter) or Kostya Tszyu and Ricky Hatton moved up to welterweight to fight him.
At 147lbs, he beat hard-working but limited Cinderella Man Carlos Baldomir after the Argentine stunned a complacent Judah. Then he moved up to light-middle to fight De La Hoya, then a part-time fighter, inactive for a year and 34 at the time. De La Hoya had fought but half-a-dozen rounds in almost three years but he took Mayweather to a split decision in a close fight.
You could go on and on, about how by the time he fought Marquez the size disparity was too great and when he got it on with Mosley, Shane was trading off the only good win he?d had in years (over Margarito) but had otherwise been inactive and had been poor against Ricardo Mayorga.
Some of these points are valid, and certainly merit an asterix on a career record.
But it is all too easy to be cynical. When you watch a lot of boxing, particularly live, there are fighters who stand out as special, rare talents who have an x-factor that you can?t ignore and will not forget.
Manny Pacquaio and Floyd Mayweather Jnr both have it and fans should embrace them for the qualities they have shown us rather than worrying about what they might not have. The only real hole you should be shooting in their records is the one left by the failure to face one another.
