(Editor’s note: This column will not contain any female fashion tips, not for Rachel Donaire, Jinkee Pacquiao or Lindsay Lohan, although I absolutely love that skin-hugging white dress LL wore to court last time her name was on the rocket docket. I hear fashion critic Bob Arum labeled it “a knockout but tasteful as well, now that is what I call a Geezer Pleaser.”…
Having been falsely accused of always writing about Manny Pacquiao, I am acutely aware of throwing around charges that cannot be sustained.
By my calculations, I write about Manny and Pacman-related topics only 98 percent of the time, giving Floyd Mayweather Jr. one percent of my attention and the final one percent to tying Pacquiao and Mayweather together no matter how far I have to reach.
Which, in a convoluted way, brings me to boxing’s sorry state. We have a sport/business which is surviving with only two–count ’em, friends–two superstars.
One named Pacquiao performs twice a year, usually in May and November.
The other, who fought as an amateur for a spell as Floyd Sinclair (mother’s maiden name), fights even less with this May 1 marking 12 months since he pranced and danced against Sugar Shane Mosley, the Methusaleh being trotted out as Pacquiao’s May 7 victim.
(With all due athletic and financial respect to the redoubtable Klitschko Bros., who always come before hoes, their superstar status is restricted to Germany, Ukraine and I guess the UK when David Hayemaker Haye is in the opposite corner.)
UFC and other MMA promoters do not have this superstar shortage problem. In their lucrative world, the sport is the superstar and box-office and PPV TV success is keyed to that. You can say that they, particularly White Man Dana and the UFC, follow the NFL model.
On the verge of superstardom stands handsome Argentinean blaster Sergio “Maravilla” Martinez.
On the mythical P4P lists, his name is rising and crowding top dogs Pacquiao and Mayweather.
But he lacks opponents who can help him vault to the rarefied air of superstardom.
