By Bart Barry
Saturday at the Venetian in Macau, Filipino Manny Pacquiao will defend his welterweight title against New Yorker Chris Algieri, a junior welterweight titlist. It is a fight somewhat intriguing because, while few aficionados imagine the match will be close, a number disagree on its likely victor.
Perspective plays a larger role than usual in determining where an aficionado finds himself on the question of Chris Algieri’s chances against Manny Pacquiao, prefight. Looking through one end of the telescope, Algieri is fully outclassed by the prizefighter after whom this era likely will be named, a man who, in going 6-2-1 (3 KOs) against the combination of Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales and Juan Manuel Marquez, each a hall of famer in his prime when he fought Pacquiao, set a mark unrivaled by anyone currently plying the craft.
It is not stated often enough: Manny Pacquiao made nine matches with the best fighters in his and their best weightclasses, and six of them were rematches.
Much of what has transpired in Pacquiao’s career since his second match with Marquez, in 2008, is noteworthy for its remarkable promotion – by Bob Arum and HBO – and matchmaking by Top Rank’s brain trust. Pacquiao has grown his weight and stature by decisioning larger, slower, betterfed men than those whom he blitzed at 126 and 130 pounds. Recently Freddie Roach expressed equal parts awe and annoyance with his charge having gone to welterweight for a special-attraction purse against Oscar De La Hoya at the end of 2008, and then having been returned there nine more times.
Roach is mocking and scornful, edgier than usual, too, when he broaches the issue of Algieri’s advantage over Pacquiao in height and reach, and nutritional scholarship and culinary acumen, perhaps because Roach’s other charge, Ruslan Provodnikov, in losing a narrow decision to Algieri in June, became the New Yorker’s career springboard. Roach refuses to sing along with a promotional chorus that implies Pacquiao is new to fighting men longer than he is; forgotten to many aficionados, though fewer who were ringside at Cowboys Stadium four years ago this week, was the absurd physical superiority Antonio Margarito enjoyed against Pacquiao, the absurd chemical state into which Margarito placed himself with ephedrine and caffeine before making his ringwalk, and the absurd language Pacquiao employed in an abandoned concrete corner of Cowboys Stadium afterwards, saying Margarito hurt him badly enough with a body punch Pacquiao was lucky to have lived.
And no, Pacquiao has never been the same fighter since that match with Margarito. And no, Algieri has nowhere near Margarito’s physicality or championship experience.
The Manny Pacquiao who annihilated Ricky Hatton in 2009 would go through Chris Algieri and every male resident of his dad’s Long Island home in fewer than three rounds. That Pacquiao was, to employ trainer Nacho Beristain’s memorable phrase, “a wildcat” – and an indefatigable one at that. But the Pacquiao we last saw in April is a markedly different creature.
Five years removed from his last knockout victory, two years removed from his last knockout loss, Pacquiao now keeps a running scorecard in his head while he fights, ensuring no motion is wasted once a round is won. He’s still a man only the era’s purest offensive technician, Juan Manuel Marquez, should dare an even-terms exchange with, but he’s no longer a man who preys on timid opponents.
Algieri will be happy to use tactical timidity against Pacquiao, since not-fighting Pacquiao will discomfit Manny considerably. Algieri, as anyone near boxing is well past tired of hearing, is not a typical boxing story – though if he were the product of Harlem homelessness and a stepdad who abused him and a saintly retired cop who ran a gym in the basement of a church where he taught Chris to throw the old one-two, of course, we’d still hear he’s not the typical boxing story. It’s publicist twaddle.
Like most everything about boxing, Algieri’s likability is inversely proportionate to his distance from a ring; when he’s fighting offensive forces like Provodnikov or Pacquiao he’s quite likable, and when he’s appearing on heavily edited HBO infomercials he’s likable enough, and when he’s posting his meals and topless selfies and inspirational bromides on Twitter he is a douchebag – as the kids are saying it these days. What he has that should make him different from other of Pacquiao’s considerably better and consistently vanquished opponents, though, is a sense of entitled superiority Pacquiao may not be able to dent.
Pacquiao glides through life today, looking only forward, in a way few others can or have – though Arnold Schwarzenegger comes to mind as an analogous example. But Algieri still would not trade places with the Filipino. When Algieri says spending time round Pacquiao during their kickoff media tour convinced him he belongs in such company, there’s the faintest hint of disappointment in Algieri’s voice: I thought I would have my identity challenged enough to learn things about myself and others I didn’t already know, but, well, it turned out I was prepared for all this already, and Manny’s a good guy, I like him, and Freddie, too, honestly, even if he doesn’t like me.
Some of that really may be attributable to nutrition; coming of age when and where he did, Algieri’s access to what nutrients grow potent brains was likely greater than young Pacquiao’s and young Roach’s combined. Much of it is classifiable for the time being as luck; how certain experiences order certain person’s lives in unique ways. Little of it is attributable to what hard work and dedication American autobiographers fetishize; notice how infrequently someone like Pacquiao references his own work ethic – for coming from a place where working hard and being dedicated earn you about an extra $1/day.
Pacquiao should win Saturday, and not merely because no judge who wishes to enjoy his Sunday in Macau would score a close round for the New Yorker. Pacquiao should win Saturday, and neither fighter’s current career or life trajectories will be altered by it in the slightest.
Bart Barry can be reach via Twitter @bartbarry
