By Norm Frauwnheim
LAS VEGAS – At a time when politics appear to be imitating boxing or vice-versa, there was an endorsement Wednesday for a politician from a fighter who will do more than just promise to punch his rival in a few days.
Donald Trump and Ted Cruz weren’t even there.
Too bad.
They might have learned something about decorum from Timothy Bradley and Manny Pacquiao.
Bradley gave Pacquiao a ringing endorsement for his run at another political office in the Philippines at the final news conference for their welterweight rematch Saturday night at the MGM Grand. Bradley got the office wrong.
“He deserves to become governor of the Philippines,’’ Bradley said.
Last anybody checked, Pacquiao, a current Congressman, is running for the Senate. The talk is that he hopes to be the Filipino president one day. Governor of the Philippines is not a title that exists, although maybe the World Boxing Association can create one. But you get the idea. Trump and Cruz wouldn’t endorse each other for dogcatcher. Instead, they look at each other like a dogcatcher might look at his shoes to see what he just stepped into.
But it looks as if Bradley and Pacquiao genuinely like each other. Before the news conference, they stood next to each other, talking and smiling. They posed for the cameras without the unblinking stare-down that is part ritual and part theater. They just looked like a couple of old comrades, happy at the chance to do some more business.
Bradley’s endorsement, of course, included a presumption that he’ll win Saturday night. He prefaced it by saying that he didn’t agree with the idea that Pacquiao has to win the fight to win votes for a seat in the Filipino Senate.
“I think that’s baloney,’’ said Bradley, who spoke for about 10 minutes and thanked juts about everyone, including his wide and manager, Monica, whom he called Super Woman.
Losing a fight, Bradley said, should have no impact on how Filipino’s looks at Pacquiao, an icon whose image took hit in February for controversial comments about gay sex.
“He’s truly a man who is going to do it right for the Philippines,’’ said Bradley, a 2-to-1 underdog in their third fight. “He’s a man of his word, a man for the Filipino people. He’ always shown that.’’
In his turn at the bully pulpit, Pacquiao sounded a lot like politician on a campaign. He talked about his faith and his humble roots.
“You know my life,’’ said Pacquiao, who says he will answer an opening bell for the last time Saturday night in an HBO pay-per-view bout. “I came from nothing. I slept in the streets. No food. I just drank water to survive.’’
He’s done more than survive. His ring earnings, including an estimated $150 million for his dull loss to Floyd Mayweather Jr. in May, were unimaginable for a kid sleeping in cardboard box on the streets of Manila when he first began boxing. Much of that money has gone to help his fellow citizens, said Pacquiao, who is guaranteed $20 million Saturday. Bradley will get $4 million
“The money you pay for this boxing goes to thousands of poor people,’’ Pacquiao said.
His generosity and political career raise questions about whether he can afford to walk away from the pay-for-punches racket. He gives away much of what he banks, according to his promoter, Bob Arum of Top Rank.
“I once said, and it’s still true, that the social system in the Philippines is called Manny Pacquiao,’’ Arum said.
Pacquiao’s political life creates complications. They were evident during the new conference. The Filipinos regulate how much TV time a political candidate gets. According to Arum, Pacquiao is limited to 120 minutes.
“It’s crazier than the Democrats and Republicans in this country,’’ said Arum, who is staging a No Trump Undercard featuring junior-welterweight Jose Ramirez, super-middleweight Gilberto Ramirez and featherweight Oscar Valdez before Pacquiao-Bradley.
So crazy, Arum said, that the Filipino agency assigned to regulate political campaigns was still arguing Wednesday whether a 12-round fight would be counted as 36 minutes, three for each round, or 48 minutes, which would account for the 60 seconds between each round.
There’s also a Trump-versus-Cruz -like intensity to the rivalry between the respective trainers, Teddy Atlas for Bradley and Freddie Roach for Pacquiao.
“Like the old-timers used to say,’’ Atlas said when he was introduced Wednesday, “it’s all over but the shooting.’’
Shooting is what almost happened many years ago when Roach and Atlas figured out they didn’t like each other, according to story by Lance Pugmire for the Los Angeles Times. In 1997, Michael Moorer, the IBF’s heavyweight champion, Atlas quit and he hired Roach.
Roach told Pugmire that he walked in on argument that Atlas and Moorer’s manager, John Davimos. Atlas punched Davimos, according to Roach. Then, Roach said, two men, each with a gun, pointed their weapons at him. Roach said he believed the men were Atlas’ associates. Roach said he was told to leave.
Apparently, a good governor wasn’t around.
