By Bill Dwyre, Los Angeles Times
One of the funnier moments of the year in sports occurred last week. Presiding was that master of high comedy, Bob Arum.
His day job is that of boxing promoter, but he may be missing his true calling. Jay Leno, beware.
Arum scheduled a conference call for the media at midnight PDT Friday. It was the old news-at-midnight drama.
He said this was the end of a so-called "exclusivity period" in which he had refrained from negotiating with any other fighter on behalf of his client Manny Pacquiao, so that an HBO representative could work with Floyd Mayweather Jr., who was given first shot to fight Pacquiao on the date of Nov. 13.
Then Arum went on to sound like a diplomat at a United Nations committee meeting, dealing delicately with complicated issues and choosing words carefully to make sure nobody's feelings got hurt. Henry Kissinger would be proud.
The thing is, there are no complicated issues and this is boxing, where hurting the other side's feelings is standard procedure. But instead of calling the other guys lowlifes and creeps — the usual way to incite a similar response and justify high ticket prices — Arum became Mother Teresa.
Keep in mind that Arum is fond of Mayweather's business manager, Al Haymon — not to mention Mayweather himself — like a cobra is fond of a mongoose. Also keep in mind the old story about Arum, who, when challenged by a reporter over an inconsistency in information, said, "Yesterday, I was lying. Today, I'm telling the truth."
Arum's leverage for making Mayweather hurry up and agree to a fight is that, if he doesn't, Arum will have Pacquiao fight either Antonio Margarito or Miguel Cotto.
How silly.
Pacquiao destroyed Cotto once and there is little public push for Pacquiao-Cotto II. And Margarito doesn't even have a license to fight in the United States. He was suspended after that night at Staples Center a year and a half ago, when they peeled off his gloves before he fought Shane Mosley and found residue of plaster of Paris. Plus, Margarito's fight in Mexico in May was spectacularly unimpressive.
Maybe they could do a doubleheader, six rounds each: Manny Fights the Retreads.
You can just imagine Mayweather's camp, sitting around in full sweat, knowing of the availability of Cotto and Margarito. Remember, Arum promotes both fighters, so either deal would take minutes. Would Cotto or Margarito even twitch before accepting a chance to fight Pacquiao, whose stature brings with it another chance for whatever opponent to bank a few million more?
Of course not.
Yet Arum played this as if he were George Mitchell in the Middle East. Words were chosen carefully. Praise and understanding for the other side, and its dilemma, were forthcoming. It was masterfully done, a true belly laugh.
Some Arum samples:
—"I don't blame Al Haymon. . . . He really tried."
—"I don't think any of you should be too harsh on Floyd."
But intermingled with the warm and fuzzy stuff were the real gems. Arum is paraphrased here:
—The reason we should not be so harsh on Mayweather is that his trainer and uncle, Roger Mayweather, faces an August trial (he is accused of battery and strangulation of a female boxer), and Floyd might not want to fight without his uncle in his corner.
—The reason scheduling is so important is that Arum's fighter, Pacquiao, is an elected congressman in the Philippines, busy performing his civic duties.
The not-so-subtle juxtaposition is inescapable. Arum's fighter is a lawmaker. The other guy's trainer may be a lawbreaker. The good corner and the bad corner for this fight are clearly defined — they were a long time ago — and Arum merely reiterated it for that portion of the public that hadn't been paying attention.
Not clear is whether Arum really wants this fight, or knows there is no chance it will ever happen and has decided to get mileage out of it, anyway. He has, as he is the best at doing, worked himself and his Top Rank Promotions into a win-win situation in the public's eye.
If the Mayweather camp succumbs to this most recent tongue-in-cheek gesture, either out of fury or the inevitability that Pacquiao is its only remaining huge payday, then Arum has his biggest promotion ever. If it doesn't, the public will have heard Arum try his best to be nice to these people who ended up costing boxing its biggest moment because part of their team is accused of felonies.
As a bonus, he gets to string along the public with thoughts of maybe next year, which usually pumps up ticket sales and pay-per-view prospects.
Truly masterful.
bill.dwyre@latimes.com
Source: latimes.com
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