On Jan. 31, I wrote, “If he makes this fight with Mosley at the welterweight limit and beats him, however he does it, I’ll give Mayweather nothing but praise.. . . If Mayweather makes May 1 dull, in other words, he’ll deserve our admiration.” I stand by that.
Mayweather made May 1 dull. No one thought a dull fight could be made with Shane Mosley at welterweight; Mosley was too big, too quick, too experienced, too crafty, too physical, too powerful. Turned out, he was none of these things for Floyd Mayweather.
Mayweather just won the most important fight of his career in surprising fashion, but another surprise awaits. Call it the apogee of the Mayweather mood.
Can’t happen. Not after Mayweather took the greatest challenge of his career, on paper, and won it by unanimous scores of 119-109, 118-110 and 119-109. Guys like that experience no apogees! We’ll see.
I had the fight even after round 4. A half hour later, like everyone else not being paid to score the fight, I wondered why I’d bothered.
Whatever you opine of Mayweather’s everyday character, you now must recognize his character in the ring. Saturday night Mayweather was hurt by the best finisher in the welterweight division, and he fought back when flight was still an option. He put his hands up and walked forward, punching. Mayweather was tested, and he passed.
Make no mistake, Mayweather was hurt. He was rocked in the second round, twice. The first time was a right cross on the chin that bent Mayweather dramatically backwards. He grabbed desperate hold of Mosley’s right arm. Gone were the good balance and low lead hand. Mayweather used both arms to pin Mosley’s right glove to his chest. He didn’t let go when referee Kenny Bayless politely asked him to. He barely let go after Bayless and Mosley worked in tandem to wrestle it away from him.
A minute later, Mayweather threw a lead left hook – the one punch he wasn’t quick enough to land on Mosley – and Mosley threw a right hand over it. The punch struck just above Mayweather’s ear; a balance shot. Mayweather’s left knee buckled.
A few rows back of the canvas, Oscar De La Hoya, ostensibly the event’s levelheaded promoter, leaped to his feet. An enormous grin – unusually sincere – rushed over his face. He began to shout for Mosley. Nobody in all of MGM Grand, nay Las Vegas, wanted Mosley to stretch Mayweather more than De La Hoya. In that instant, wonderfully enough, De La Hoya’s inner fighter overwhelmed his inner businessman.
Mayweather did enough clinching, elbowing and punching to survive the round. Then he walked to his corner – where Handpad Jockey and Towel Boy merely cried “box!” at him – and rested. Mayweather’s conditioning refilled his legs, and his confidence came shortly behind.
He climbed off his stool, took Mosley’s good fortunate at having hurt him and turned it against the game, if aged, champion. Mayweather showed openings enough to make Mosley flex his fast-twitch muscles, then he closed them right before Mosley’s startled eyes. Then he did it again.
Through round 3, though, things went as Mosley’s trainer Brother Naazim Richardson said they would. Mosley put it on Mayweather, and Mayweather turned into a fighter. Then Mosley tried to box, and well, ah, at least Richardson had the first three rounds right, no?
Confident he could hurt Mayweather with the right punch, Mosley stopped trying to throw anything but the right punch. For the next nine frustrating rounds, Mosley looked and looked. Mayweather was stronger, sharper, quicker and far, far more confident. Between rounds, Mosley nodded along with Richardson in the corner, even audibly promising to do better, but it was little use. Mosley was under 30 punches per round, and nobody will ever beat Mayweather that way.
Other things might have happened in rounds 6 through 12. But if you remember only a blur of silence, potshots and Mayweather’s left elbow, you’re forgiven.
That brings us to the fight “everyone wants to see” between Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao.
Spoiler alert: If you’re a company recently contacted by Golden Boy Promotions about a potential sponsorship deal for Mayweather’s next fight, please stop here.
We all admire the hell out of Pacquiao, and his record of 5-1-1 (3 KOs) against Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales and Juan Manuel Marquez likely ensures his legacy as the era’s greatest fighter. But setting aside all paeans to styles making fights, it’s hard to imagine a way for Pacquiao to beat a 147-pound man too quick for Marquez and too physical for Mosley.
Calm down. Once the pay-per-view receipts are counted for Saturday’s fight, anyway, Pacquiao-Mayweather will come to the end of its trip from improbable to impossible. So, we’ll never know. And trust me, Pacquiao fans; it’s better that way.
Which returns us to the apogee of the Mayweather mood. Mayweather’s achievements are nearer his self-assessments, today, than ever before. No, he’s not Muhammad Ali or, God help us, Sugar Ray Robinson. But he’s now done enough to be entitled to delusions. That means the acceleration of his rhetoric can no longer outpace his achievements. He’s antagonized his critics more than he ever will again.
And that’s a marketing problem. Mayweather’s fans enjoy antagonizing others more than they enjoy their guy’s fights – which they never understand. Neither Mayweather nor his fans want capitulation; they want someone to hector.
Denied a way to antagonize critics further, Mayweather is left with what he does in the ring. Aficionados are only going to pay $54 again to see Mayweather genuinely imperiled, and you’d probably need to look to the winner of the “Super Six” for a guy that could do that.
So finally, Floyd Mayweather proved his doubters wrong. And irony says it could be the very day we all started to lose interest.
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter.com/bartbarry
