By Norm Frauenheim-
There is no good way to say goodbye to boxing. Manny Pacquiao is trying to. At campaign stops in New York and Los Angeles this week, he said repeatedly that his fight with Timothy Bradley on April 9 would be his last.
In a political season full of Trump, Palin, Cruz and Hillary, however, few believe the soft-spoken Filipino Congressman, who also happens to be running for one of 24 seats in his country’s Senate. His promoter, Bob Arum, doesn’t. His trainer, Freddie Roach, doesn’t. His Filipino constituency doesn’t want
The prevailing skepticism is rooted in precedent. Boxers come back as often as politicians break promises. In Bill Dwyre’s ongoing series for Top Rank on the second Pacquiao-Bradley rematch, the retired Los Angeles Times sport editor quotes Arum on just the latest example.
Brandon Rios retired at a news conference in the immediate aftermath of his one-sided loss to Bradley last November. Arum immediately applauded his announcement.
“Half-an-hour later,’’ Arum said, Rios “unretired.’’
The entertaining anecdote is as true a guide as any on what to expect — or not expect — from Pacquiao or anybody else in a business where scar tissue is the only sure thing.
But it’s an awkward way to sell a fight.
The guess here is that Pacquiao believes what he is saying, just as surely as Rios did with a decision that sounded heartfelt at the time. But there are all kinds of reasons and scenarios that could change Pacquiao’s mind.
To wit:
§ If he wins, he has a title to defend and chance at more money to finance further campaigns.
§ If he loses, his reputation is at stake. Careers end in defeat all the time. But a loss might be tougher for a politician whose clout with the voters is built on how he won them over. His political career was launched by what he did within the ropes. A pound-for-pound ranking was the only poll he ever needed. The ring was his bully pulpit.
Either scenario comes with reasons to think his career continues beyond his third fight with Bradley at Las Vegas’ MGM Grand.
Meanwhile, Arum is confronted with the tough task of selling a bout that Pacquiao calls his farewell-fight, which is an oxymoron, if there ever was one. You fight to stick around. Throwing in the towel is one way of saying farewell.
A lot of fans feel as if they said farewell to Pacquiao, the fighter, on that December night in 2012 when he landed on the canvas, face-first, from a right hand delivered by Juan Manuel Marquez.
That might have been as good a time as any to say goodbye, except for that opportunity at a huge payday against Floyd Mayweather Jr. Good business sense dictated he continue, despite pressure to quit from family and friends.
Pacquiao stuck around, collecting what was reported to be between $160 and $180 million. It was worth it. It made him a very rich man. But it looks as if the May loss to Mayweather was just one more bout in the inevitable decline of a fighter in his mid-to-late 30s. He’s back now. He says he has recovered from surgery to the right-shoulder, which he said was injured in training, yet wasn’t disclosed until after the dull, controversial loss to Mayweather.
Then, there’s Mayweather, of course. He says he’s retired. But nobody believes him, either. The prevailing speculation since Mayweather’s promised career-ender –a September victory over Andre Berto — is that he’ll be back.
As different as they are, it turns out that Pacquiao and Mayweather have one thing in common. In a business with no term limits, it’s hard to say so long.
