By Kevin Mitchell, Guardian.co.uk
Manny Pacquiao marches on. He threw 1,231 quality punches at Joshua Clottey in Dallas on Saturday night, and the 246 that landed heavily were enough to persuade the subdued Ghanaian that survival was his only option.
Now for Floyd Mayweather Jr. We hope.
Technically, the 56th win of the Pacman's career was among his best. Freddie Roach reckoned the only way for his fighter to beat a big natural welterweight was to break him down, so Pacquiao worked the body to take all the fight out of Clottey before halfway. But there wasn't much oncoming traffic for Manny to negotiate, and that was disappointing. Clottey let himself down, covering up rather than competing. Why?
He looked content just to be given the gig – as he did, after good starts, in fights against other Bob Arum stars, Antonio Margarito (losing 116-112, 116-112, 118-109) and Miguel Cotto (116-111, 115-112, 114-113). It was as if he could have given more but didn't. Margarito went on to fight Cotto and Cotto went on to fight Pacquiao. Then Clottey gets his big day against Manny. Everybody's happy.
Maybe he was weight-drained on Saturday night but Clottey, in the end, turned out to be the perfect s/o – selected opponent – and that seriously short-changed 50,000 Texans who paid to watch what turned out to be a high-class workout for the favourite.
That said, a fight between the WBO welterweight champion and Mayweather is still the biggest draw in the business – providing "Money" beats Shane Mosley in Las Vegas on 1 May.
There are three big "ifs" here. Will Pacquaio fight on after he goes to the polls in the Philippines this month? Will Mayweather beat Mosley? If Mayweather does win, will he run against Pacquaio, trying to fiddle it on the back foot, or will he give us the great fight that boxing needs?
I think the answer to the first two is, 'yes'. I'm not so sure about the last one. It could be that the best fight out there is Pacquiao-Mosley – and that makes May Day in Las Vegas one hell of a fight in prospect.
Whither the Hitman?
I don't know if Ricky Hatton was watching Pacquiao's fight somewhere in a bar in Tenerife on Saturday night but, if he was, it will surely have hit him like a left hook from Manila that he should abandon plans to fight again.
The gulf between himself and the little big man who knocked him cold in Las Vegas 10 months ago is now wider than Ricky's trousers. I am convinced the Hatton we saw last May cannot live with the very best anymore. I doubt he even wants to.
If he finally announces his retirement this week, it will be a clumsy exit from a business he has graced with distinction for more than a decade. For days, even his father Ray and brother Matthew didn't know what his drinking pals did, the ones who were on to the papers and Sky with their scuttlebutt. That's no way for a former world champion to handle the most important decision of his career.
By confiding in the back-slappers, most of whom have never thrown or received a gloved punch in the ring but know a good deal about pints and pies, Ricky forgot for awhile the rest of his many thousands of fans.
His drinking pals have always told Ricky whatever he wanted to hear. And, because he listened to them, he told me and other boxing writers several times over the years we didn't know what we were talking about, that he could eat and drink as he pleased and get back into shape whenever he wanted to. For years he got away with it because, unless we forget, he was a pretty terrific fighter with an engine that could run a small town.
But a lot of good judges – trainers and fellow fighters – have been worried about Ricky's welfare even before Mayweather stopped him in 2007. His chin was holding up, just, but his body was drained by a lifestyle designed to make him look more like his mate Bernard Manning than the exciting fighter he was on his best nights.
Those nights are long gone.
When he announced in December he was carrying on, my heart sank. When he turned up in Melbourne in January to cheer for Andy Murray at the Australian Open he looked bloated and I felt, weirdly, a bit happier for him because it was obvious he was not serious about fighting on.
His friends at Sky, on information fed to them by his mates in the bars, say he is holding a press conference this week to talk about his future. That is normally information he and his promotional team would release, so the confusion lingers.
Hatton the fighter has let nobody down but himself by his extra-curricular excesses. Even in defeat, he went out swinging. We should savour the good nights.
There are only two choices for fighters getting beaten up at the end of their careers: come back or walk away. For his sake, I hope Ricky tells us this week it is the latter.
Wanna bet?
Apparently, Paulie Malignaggi doesn't like me writing him off against Amir Khan. Can't blame him. Proud man.
I have urged readers to rush to their nearest bookmaker to grab the 9-1 that has been available about Amir knocking Paulie out at Madison Square Garden on 15 May.
So, when he came to London last week, he was disappointed I wasn't at his press conference. So was I. The Magic Man is always a treat to listen to.
I'll say it again, though: Malignaggi is a great character, eminently quotable, a quick-handed, flashy stylist who's good to watch and terrific for boxing. But he can't punch his way out of a quiche. As long as his butt points south, he cannot beat Khan. Speed without power is just speed.
If you're out there, comrade, get in touch. I've got a monkey that needs feeding. At 9-1.
Source: guardian.co.uk
No comments:
Post a Comment