May 2, 2015: FINALLY At last… Floyd Mayweather. Manny Pacquiao. May 2. Let’s do this. Photo by Stephen Dunn/Getty Images
The only difference between reality and a dream is distance, and sometimes we make closing that gap nearly impossible. We are sometimes complicated people who can be solved by the simplest things.
Sometimes it takes almost six years to figure that out.
Your dream will always defeat reality if you give it a chance, and because you never stopped believing in a fight between Floyd Mayweather and his Filipino nemesis Manny Pacquiao, your long awaited superfight will arrive on May 2.
As for me. I don’t merely believe in miracles- I expect them. Because of that, I couldn’t be surprised at all or attach any surreal feelings to witnessing them face-to-face at long last.
In the blue corner… Manny Pacquiao
The event itself, amid the red carpet velvety splendor of Hollywood not far from Rodeo Dr., felt like a blockbuster movie premiere featuring legendary actors. Sugar Ray Leonard and Thomas Hearns- eat your f*cking heart out. This spectacle dominated ESPN and assembled press from all over the world as boxing took center stage.
There was Pacquiao, rather congressional in his gray suit and tie, making his appearance on the scene first. He arrived with a fiery confidence I’d personally never seen before. At the podium, the reigning WBO welterweight boss and 8-division world champion was direct, relaxed, and implicit in his understated disdain for Mayweather.
He offered a spiritual warrior’s tone, as he gracefully thanked his creator while reflecting on his humble origins. He seemed a Christian version of a boxing Dr. Hannibal Lector, ordered to devour “Money” for his country with glee- lest he be sentenced to death in the Philippines.
At once subdued, jovial and child-like in presentation, this Pacquiao was different; as he often glared softly into reporters’ eyes with a look and a way that seemed to say: “I got dis sh*t.”
He sang parts of his national anthem that he’ll sing on his way to the ring. He stated how he will be very aggressive with Floyd, and wore a suit of body language – which if it had a color – would be unequivocal BLACK. Usually when asked about the outcome of a fight, he’ll say things like, “I’m going to do my best and do my job.”
Not this time.
He told the press:
“I was more concerned with De la hoya or Cotto than this fight. I am ready to show the world I can beat Mayweather easily and win this fight for my country,” vowed Pacquiao. “God will deliver Mayweather into my hands.” If a song could be played to some up the countenance of the Filipino superstar, it would be Jay-Z’s “Threat”.
Freddie Roach, who probably drew the ire of Mayweather (seen in a tense spat with Showtime’s Stephen Espinoza and MGM Grand President Richard Sturm- more on his wild wig later), made a brief appearance on the podium and seemed to surmise Pacquiao’s feelings when he looked directly at Mayweather declaring: “WE’RE GOING TO KICK. YOUR. ASS.”
In the red corner… Floyd Mayweather
When I covered Floyd at his press event to unveil “Mayweather/Canelo: The One”, the first thing I noticed about Floyd was the black Louis Vuitton shirt emblazoned with Filipino flag designs and colors. Trying to look past that, I focused on his body language and demeanor.
Under the raw beauty of Times Square, Floyd exuded a cool brashness he’s synonymous for when he’s most confident. He wore a royalty about him and a God complex, with the knowledge that his then 170lb plus opponent on the podium would have to melt down to 152lbs to beat him.
He knew he had a hand and foot speed advantage and an opponent who would not pressure him non-stop, so he spoke like it. He was bold in his proclamation of what would unfold, and even bolder in his face-to-face confrontation with Alaverez.
Au contrair on this day.
The 5-time, 5-division, reigning and defending WBC superwelterweight/welterweight champion and universally recognized Pound-for-Pound #1 ranked fighter on the planet, was on high alert and his body language was “code red”.
Prior to arriving at the red carpet, Floyd had already been armed with Pacquiao’s almost arrogant display of confidence on ESPN’s “First Take” with Stephen A. Smith and Skip Bayless. This is a man who went out of his way to condemn and discredit Pacquiao in the most vile ways for years, so his abject reticence and palpable humility in the face of him was revealing.
At once cocky, condescending and obnoxious in presentation, this Mayweather was different; as he stoically peered into reporter’s eyes and conveyed a tone that seemed to say: I don’t know if I got dis sh*t.”.
I’ve never seen Mayweather this measured before or with such a reluctance in spirit. He was even cordial with a wildly enthusiastic Bob Arum, despite their storied history of spoiled beef.
He spoke with a probing sense of uncertainty regarding an adversary unlike any he’s ever faced, and was seen jawing in displeasure with Showtime’s Stephen Espinoza and the very clown-like MGM President Richard Sturm (who wore an awful wig that was made by either Liberace or Little Richard) after the proceedings.
His was a body language that dripped of an impending doom and a shaky shade of GREY. His manager (only because he’s legally under contract) Leonard Ellerbe, is no longer close to Mayweather and his relationship with his father is superficial at best. The two sat far away from each other, despite being on the podium for the biggest fight of their lives.
Floyd Sr. not only never spoke- but he wasn’t even invited to the podium.
When Mayweather, nattily dressed in a grey suit w/a button-up shirt minus the tie, spoke to the press later he revealed the need to be smart against Pacquiao, citing patience and referring back to his calling card – the “0” – while mentioning he doesn’t know what its like to lose. But clearly, losing was on his mind.
I have never wanted to win a fight more in my life, and I’m sure he feels the same way,” declared a pensive Mayweather on ESPN afterwards. “Its all about being smart. I beat Oscar at his best. I beat Cotto at his best… Pacquiao fought them at their worst when they were weigh drained. Once you lose a fight that stays on your mind. All I know how to do is win, and on May 2nd, I’ll be victorious again.”
It sounded alright, but it didn’t really sound like he believed that.
“Money” looked to be in need of an ATM to purchase some love, and Justin Beiber was no where to be found. If there was a song that could sum up Mayweather’s emptiness in the aftermath of the festivities, it would be Lady Antebellum’s “I need you now”.
Overall, what an unprecedented day of intrigue and suspense in the “City of Angels” for boxing, as “Sin City” gets set for an epic dual between a pair of classic speed demons.
