What if, indeed. Manny Pacquiao, 44-3-2, 35 KO’s, is, at present, one of the major stars of the sport, and at twenty-eight, appears to be at the height of his powers. The world’s premier Super Featherweight has a rematch coming up with Marco Antonio Barrera, 63-5, 42 KO’s, in October – Pacquiao beat Barrera convincingly four years ago – but with all due allowance for Barrera’s talent and courage, and also, we imagine, his desire to even the score, the Mexican star is now seen as a fighter in decline. So, in searching my imagination to find another opponent to confront Pacquiao, curiously enough, I began thinking of the very man whose career was terminated by Barrera.
In the late 1990s and very early 2000s, Naseem Hamed, if he wasn’t quite the toast of British boxing, was at least an intoxicating brew. People didn’t always like him – he could be insufferably brash – but he had remarkable boxing ability and could hit like a mule. American TV also lapped him up too, although more hardened US commentators, like their British counterparts, were never entirely sure if the substance was on the same level as the style. It’s intriguing to wonder just how Hamed, a featherweight who eventually finished 36-1, 31 KO’s, would have got on against Pacquiao if they’d ever met.
There’s an interesting reverse symmetry to their careers. The Filipino, always noted for his concussive hitting, has in recent fights, added more nuances to his game. Hamed, by contrast, initially a dancing elusive target, went on an opposite progression, becoming convinced by the latter stages of his career that his punching power, his ‘rocket launchers’, could always get him out of gaol. Emmanuel Steward, his trainer towards the end, once described Hamed’s power as something he’d never experienced before, “it was almost supernatural.” That’s an extraordinary statement; Steward is, after all, a man who’s worked close-up with such noted bangers as Thomas Hearns, Lennox Lewis and Gerald McClellan. Interestingly, Pacquiao’s trainer, Freddie Roach, also needed to rein his charge in a little; “All punchers can’t help but want to land their best shot and win by KO.” The difference is that the Filipino boxer listened to Roach and developed his other tools, whereas Hamed, by all accounts, didn’t pay sufficient attention to Steward. Instead of becoming a more complete fighter as he went on, Naseem decided to strip his game down, and became overly reliant on one aspect of it.
One school of thought believes the deterioration in the Prince stemmed from his break with Brendan Ingle, the coach and manager who’d trained him since childhood, and who’d always instilled the importance of unconventional but effective defensive moves. Not many fighters are complete originals, and in that sense, Hamed was a product of Ingle’s training methods. His initial approach showed much in common with that fine 1980s Middleweight, Herol Graham, and the later WBO Cruiserweight Champion, Johnny Nelson. In early fights Hamed could be a frustratingly difficult target. In September 1995, Welsh boxer, Steve Robinson, defended his WBO Featherweight Title against Hamed. Robinson was used to exerting steady and intelligent pressure to get the win, but against Naseem he was reaching, completely out of range, with Hamed moving and leaning back, then pausing to whip in vicious counter punches.
On the other hand that was against one level of opposition. Robinson’s story, of a capable journeyman who went on to win a portion of the World Title and successfully defend it, was inspirational, but Robinson never drew much attention in the USA. He was a sound, well-schooled fighter, but although he found good form in his tenure as Champion, his early record was littered with defeats, and he lacked the extra quality of men like Barrera.
There were signs that even under Brendan Ingle’s tutelage, Hamed might have design flaws. Nine months after winning the Title, he was hurt and dropped by the unheralded Daniel Alicea. Hamed was also forced to engage in a desperate war with Manuel Medina in August 1996, before finding the shots to force a retirement by the Mexican at the end of the eleventh. At the time most commentators weren’t impressed by the hard work Hamed made of this win, although in retrospect, it may have been a better result than it seemed. To this day, Medina, currently 67-15-1, 31 KO’s, continues to fight efficiently, a sort of Ageless Archie Moore of the lighter weight classes. The Prince’s big-time American debut at Madison Square Garden in December 1997 also nearly went disastrously wrong when Naseem was rocked and dropped several times by a psyched up Kevin Kelley.
All those matches were when Hamed was still with Brendan Ingle, although admittedly some might argue, being with a trainer and listening to a trainer aren’t the same thing. But it might indicate that beyond a certain level, Hamed’s hands down, chin in the air style, was always going to leave him vulnerable. In some of those bouts, I wondered about his method of lunging in with his head up. He had the reflexes to get away with it against lesser opposition, but it created an uneasy feeling in the observer.
Hamed did it against Vincenzo Belcastro in May 1994, dropping his man at one point with a leaping punch. Belcastro, a competent European boxer, wasn’t quite good enough to do anything about it, but the thought occurred that a world-class fighter could time Hamed and catch him on the way in. Another thing that stuck me about Hamed was how rarely he threw combinations, even at the peak of his powers. It usually tended to be one-at-a-time punches, and that was when he was still part of Ingle’s stable.
Hamed fought some good opposition, men such as those mentioned above, and also Wilfredo Vazquez, Wayne McCullough, and Tom Johnson, but I tend to think Pacquiao’s level of competition has been generally better. Hamed did take on Marco Antonio Barrera in April 2001. Barrera wasn’t the first live opponent Hamed faced, but it’s probably true to say he was the best, and Hamed’s subsequent dismantling hasn’t served his legacy well. Pacquiao, by contrast, beat Barrera out of sight when he met him two and a half years later. Admittedly Barrera may have been distracted by numerous personal problems, but still, the comparison doesn’t favor Hamed.
Since moving up in weight from Super Bantam, where he was a dominant Champion for two years, Pacquiao has battled ferociously against his elite Mexican opponents, only coming seriously unstuck once, in his first match against Erik Morales. Morales was probably enjoying his last stellar performance. But even that fight, and a grueling draw with Juan Manuel Marquez, indicate that when the result doesn’t go Manny’s way he goes back to the drawing board and generally comes back stronger.
He hasn’t met Marquez since, but he’s stopped Morales twice, and is set to face Barrera again in what most experts feel will be – or should be – Marco Antonio’s last fight. By comparison, Hamed’s loss to Barrera appeared to break something within his psyche, and after a lackluster points win over Manuel Calvo, he effectively gave up. As one commentator said, “Hamed was a confidence fighter, and once that was dented, he was finished.” I think it stands to Pacquiao’s credit that he isn’t discouraged by setbacks.
I don’t think Pacquiao is as improvisational as Hamed. One knock against Manny has been he’s prone at times to run out of ideas. It was noticeable in his first bout with Erik Morales in March 2005, when El Terrible boxed his way to a solid points decision over a Pacquiao who looked over-reliant on one big hit. Admittedly, Manny was badly cut in that fight, following a clash of heads, and also wasn’t using his favored brand of gloves. But Pacquiao also seemed unsure quite what strategy to implement against Juan Manuel Marquez in May 2004.
The Mexican suffered a catastrophic first round, and had to climb up after three knockdowns. However, Marquez then settled into his boxing and fought Pacquiao on even terms. So there are indications Manny doesn’t always have a plan B to draw on. Nonetheless since then, and certainly against Morales in their rematches, Pacquiao looked to have worked harder at using different methods. Freddie Roach encouraged him to vary his work, and employ his southpaw right hook more, and the results were evident.
The Prince, at his peak, was always an imaginative fighter, with the knack of throwing impossible punches from madcap angles. Very often those are the kind of shots that are most dangerous. I think he could have caused Pacquiao problems with a strategy of moving and hitting from eccentric directions. But Hamed also faltered when a master-boxer like Barrera employed intelligent tactics, scoring points and not giving Hamed openings. So, there were occasions when both Hamed and Pacquiao have been infatuated with their own hard hitting, and like many ardent lovers, refused to have eyes for anything else. Pacquiao, though, has developed, whereas it’s evident Hamed is now long gone from the fight game.
Both men have speed, and if they’d met, it’s a little difficult to know who would have been the quicker off the mark with his punches. It would presumably have been the man who made his quickness tell often enough, and in this respect Pacquiao would have been helped by a small height and reach advantage.
Despite my admiration for Hamed, and some regrets that a remarkable career might not have been even better, I suspect he wouldn’t have got past Pacquiao. It would have been a fascinating match-up, but I think the Filipino is more consistent against a higher caliber of opponent than Hamed generally faced. My imagination is no more reliable than anyone else’s, but I see in my mind’s eye, a situation of Hamed having his moments, but Pacquiao landing enough punches overall to get a good points win.
