“Manny may be 46 on paper, but in the ring, he fights at least 10 years younger.”
… Saul Bustos, Manny Pacquiao’s main sparring partner at the Wild Card Gym.
“I never saw a fighter get old in the gym. It always happens in the arena just after the bell rings.”
… The late Ray Arcel, who trained 22 world champions.
On May 1, 1995, Manny Pacquiao won a six-round decision over Rocky Palma in Cavite, Philippines, pushing his record to 3-0. They both weighed 107 pounds, but Pacquiao had weights in his pocket to qualify for the minimum weight requirement of the division. Seventeen days later, Mario Barrios was born in San Antonio.
While there is an age gap of 16 years between them, on Saturday night, Pacquiao will meet Barrios for the WBC welterweight title. The only other place you can find an age disparity like that is at the starting line for the father-son sack race at a July 4th picnic. Maybe Team Pacquiao thinks it can get the win because Barrios isn’t the strongest champion in the division, which is why Pacquiao chose him in the first place.
But this isn’t the Pacquiao who threw a hurricane of power punches in bunches from impossible angles … the Pacquiao who chopped down great fighters who were bigger, stronger men — like Miguel Cotto — and shrunk their size and their talent to where he wanted them.
But when you’re 46, your legs can’t carry you past the weight of the calendar and deep into a 12-round fight — not when the cumulative damage of body punches feels a lot different at 46.
Pacquiao hasn’t fought a competitive bout since August 2021, when he lost to Yordenis Ugas by unanimous decision. Is this the end of Pacquiao, who won more world championships (eight) than anyone this side of Alexander the Great?
Fair question. Start with the legs. They could decide this fight.
Freddie Roach trained, refined and believed in Pacquiao, and so it was only natural that Pacquiao returned to Roach’s Wild Card Hollywood Boxing Gym for this fight that nobody thinks he can win.
Well, not exactly. Saul Bustos, his principal sparring partner at Wild Card, has a lot to say on Pacquiao’s behalf.
“Manny is amazing,” Bustos said. “He took it to another level when it comes to his power. I don’t know if he has been holding back or his strength and conditioning are beginning to peak, but he was cracking hard and cracking a lot, and he was laser-focused on my mouth and my chin. He got my attention quickly. The power he unleashes is not something you expect from a fighter with a smaller body.”
But what can he do about those 46-year-old legs?
He tries.
All through training camp on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Pacquiao ran 5 to 7 miles in the morning. He drove to Griffith Park and ran up to the Griffith Observatory or the Hollywood sign. One day, he ran from his Wilshire Blvd. apartment to the Hollywood sign — 10 miles and almost straight up based on the incredibly steep pitch of the mountain. Not everyone was pleased.
Roach, least of all. Roach wanted Pacquiao to cut down on the distance he was running, and he definitely wanted Pacquiao to run on softer surfaces — a track or on grass. Pacquiao answered in true Pacquiao style with a smile and not a word. Then he ran up the mountain again. Roach said nothing. How can you argue what is best with a man who won eight world championships?
If you are looking for a measuring stick, you could try Keith Thurman. On July 20, 2019, Pacquiao won the first round with a late knockdown following a left-right combination to the body and head. This was only the second time Thurman was knocked down in his entire career. Pacquiao was ultimately declared the victor by split decision (113–114, 115–112, 115–112). Thurman praised Pacquiao after the fight, calling him a legendary boxer.
On Feb. 5, 2022. Thurman took on Barrios and proved to be a class above him, winning a unanimous decision with judges’ scorecards of 117–111 and 118–110 twice in a dominant display.
So that’s the measuring stick. Right?
Wrong.
The Pacquiao in that scenario is not the one who goes into the ring on Saturday night. The fire is still there. So is the courage. The erosion of skills may be something else. On the surface, the weight of Manny’s aging calendar should decide everything.
Is money the reason for the risk Manny is taking? It could be. No other fighter I can name gave so much both in and out of the ring. Much of that money went to typhoon victims and to build houses for the homeless.
Teddy Atlas, the most perceptive boxing analyst I know, told me: “I don’t want to see this fight. I want to remember him the way he was. I want the memories kept alive. I want him to walk off into the sunset with all the memories he earned and all accolades he deserves. You and I both saw the way it ended for Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali. This can be a cruel sport. It can put you in a dark place. Manny doesn’t deserve that.
“Could he win? He is not the same. We know that. His skills and his reflexes have eroded to a serious point, but one thing doesn’t erode — character. He always had it. He always will. Is it enough for one night? I just don’t want to see him in a bad place. He deserves better.”
I agree with Teddy. His character cannot be questioned and will not fade. In the wake of post-typhoon devastation, he personally financed new homes for victims. He paid for funerals. He understood the obligations of a celebrity. But this is boxing. Even for the great ones, age inevitably takes a brutal toll. When that happens, character alone is hardly enough.
Can he win it when the magic is gone? Not likely. Just like Atlas, I wish this fight was never made.
