MANILA, Philippines — Nobody does it better than the great Bob Arum when it comes to carving out a prizefight masterpiece.
The sagely promoter has successfully marketed what promises to be the mismatch of the season.
It’s an incredible balancing act, but Arum hardly appeared like he had to walk through the tightrope.
How do you sell a bag of peanut shells to the fight crowd?
Only Mr. Arum seems to know how.
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In fact, there promises to be a sellout at the Alamodome this weekend.
Arum should therefore dedicate a chapter to the classic selling of the undefeated but unknown Jorge Solis when he settles down to write his biography.
Or, better yet, he should author a handbook to help future Filipino politicians further improve the art of selling empty promises.
Only Bob Arum knows.
It’s improbable how the frail Mexican Solis could succeed when he stages a one-man insurrection in Texas.
But the impending mismatch, mind you, has loomed as the most interesting bout in the world prizefight calendar for April.
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April Fools?
Not exactly, although Arum had had to take a different course after failing in his first try to peddle a $5-million kimchi in the person of WBC featherweight champion In-jin Chi of South Korea.
How could the 27-year-old Solis, who should at best be a middle contender for the WBC 126-lb crown, be a lot more worthy and saleable than the reigning champ himself?
Easy. All Arum had to do was present Solis as an elongated, crispy tortilla from Guadalajara.
Undefeated (32-0, with 23 KOs) and tall (5-foot-10).
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Did you expect Arum to blink after it was officially bared that Solis was only 5-foot-8?
No. Arum’s Top Rank Promotions instead came out with an announcement that Solis has been found to be legitimately half an inch taller than five-foot eight.
Well, that’s as clear as saying they did not cheat when they came out with pre-fight blurbs trumpeting Solis as a fire-breathing 5-foot-10 Mexican macho.
Now, as though that precious half-inch bonus, in place of the bogus altitude, would provide all the difference, tickets reportedly sell like hotcakes.
The frantic demand for seats should, more or less, lend credence to the tout that, with his shining worth, Manny Pacquiao would sell even if paired against a chimp (Maski tsongo kalaban, papasukin).
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There’s a lurking danger behind all the outrageous pre-fight hype.
After Pacquiao was programmed to train conscientiously against a sharp, 5-foot-10 adversary, there’s the likelihood he could re-enter the ring at the Alamodome, where he mangled and stopped Marco Antonio Barrera in November 2003, at his finest and fiercest this year.
Of course, Solis himself had trained real hard for this rare shot at immortality.
But, despite Arum’s obvious success at selling bogus inches, there’s already the promise of another prizefight oddity.
Pacquiao, at his strongest and sharpest, could be paired against his most insignificant opponent to date.
All told, our boxing super hero may have to travel back with Arum nine years, when the Pacman was still a raw, gangling flyweight, in order to make the main event somewhat exciting.
