By Norm Frauenheim-
A contentious blame game in the wake – and we do mean wake – of Manny Pacquiao’s controversial loss to Jeff Horn is almost as regrettable as it is predictable. Above all, it’s all too familiar.
It’s the acrimonious noise that always seems to be there at the end of a legendary career. It’s as if few could foresee the ride was headed for a crashing conclusion. In hindsight, I suspect Pacquiao promoter Bob Arum did. He issued a warning few days before last weekend’s opening bell Down Under, saying that Horn could really fight.
It sounded like a warning, Arum’s way of saying that Pacquiao might lose if he wasn’t ready for a real fight. By now, we know he wasn’t. Argue about the scorecards all you want. On this one, Pacquiao was a 115-113 winner.
But I didn’t see the robbery that was so loudly alleged at ringside. Neither did Arum. Turns out, neither did Pacquiao trainer Freddie Roach, who in the aftermath of Horn’s 115-113, 117-111, 115-113 decision hinted at a less than satisfactory training camp and a fighter with energies divided between the gym and the Filipino Senate.
“To me, they were so overconfident going in — [conditioning coach] Justin Fortune tells the press that the only way Horn can win is if Manny trips going into the ring,’’ Arum told the Los Angeles Times a couple of day after the welterweight bout in Brisbane. “I had seen the kid. I told everybody he was a big, tough kid who could take a punch. I didn’t think he’d beat Manny, but it wasn’t the same Manny.”
It wasn’t. Truth is, Pacquiao hasn’t been the same Manny since his last stoppage in 2009, a 12th-round TKO of Miguel Cotto. Eight years are a career for some fighters. For Pacquiao, the power drought represents a drip-drip-drip in an erosion of an identity created by astonishing stoppages of Erik Morales, Ricky Hatton and Oscar De La Hoya. We had waited for that defining characteristic to reappear. But it never did, not against Brandon Rios or even Chris Algieri.
A great fighter without a stoppage over nearly eight years is bound to lose a few on the fickle scorecards. It happened against Timothy Bradley in 2012. To a lesser degree, it happened again in Australia, where it appeared Pacquiao was poised to finish it after a ferocious beating of Horn in the ninth, yet didn’t in the 10th simply because it just isn’t in him and hasn’t been for a while.
From religion to politics – there were different interests. From partying to gambling, there was a different lifestyle. He had changed, changed for good and forever. Still generous and likeable, the old instinct was gone. Inevitably, the physical reflexes would begin to go, too.
I don’t need a rematch to see whether Pacquiao can still be Manny. There’ll be a sequel with Horn if he decides to exercise his contracted right to one. But are we really going to see something more from a fighter whose decline has been evident for so long?
Imagine if Pacquiao had escaped with a scorecard victory over Horn in Las Vegas instead of Australia. Even in victory, there would still be the same doubts about whether he should continue, especially if that meant a fight against Terence Crawford. But his performance the workman-like Horn is proof that a fight against the emerging Crawford would be a sad end to a Pacquiao career as dramatic and colorful as any.
As of Thursday, there was no word on whether Pacquiao would fight on. I take that as good news. But I fear he’ll be tempted by one more bite at the financial apple. He’ll never be able to make as much as he did in the ring. In the political business, he’ll never have as much money as he needs. That means he’ll always be tempted.
But I prefer to remember Pacquiao when he was the Manny with one punch that launched Hatton so high that I could see the bottom of the Brit’s shoes from my ringside seat. I’ll remember the Manny who made De La Hoya quit after eight rounds.
I can only hope Pacquiao recalls what De La Hoya said on that December 6th night in 2008. After the fight was stopped, De La Hoya crossed the ring and told Roach, his old trainer: “You’re right, Freddie. I don’t have it anymore.’’
De La Hoya was 35 then. Pacquiao is 38 today.
“My heart still wants to fight, that’s for sure,” De La Hoya said then. “But when your (body) doesn’t respond, what can you do?”
Retire.
