Anybody seen Antonio Margarito lately? Anybody heard from him? There have been more Tiger Woods sightings during the last three months than there have been of Margarito in more than a year. Margarito has vanished, almost as if he’s in hiding.

In the court of public opinion, it’s a bad idea, especially if he ever hopes to be licensed in the United States again. Fair or not, there is talk he is hiding because there is something to hide.
Out of sight, but not of mind.

Questions continue about why, not whether, his gloves were loaded 13 months ago before a loss to Shane Mosley in Los Angeles. Some people want him to apologize. I just want to hear an explanation, straight and unvarnished, from Margarito. He needs attorney Daniel Petrocelli for the legalese required in appearances before the California State Athletic Commission or the Texas Department of Licensing and Regulation or some other bureaucracy.

But legal arguments won’t erase deep-seated skepticism about his claim that he had no idea disgraced ex-trainer Javier Capitello put some plaster-like substance into wraps that would turn gloves into weapons of mass destruction. Nobody who has ever worn gloves believes that one. Nobody who has ever worn shoes believes it either. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If there’s a rock in your shoe, you know it.

I have no idea how Margarito would answer the questions. Until he does, however, it’s impossible for me to say that he should be re-licensed. If he can’t stand up and argue for himself, how can anybody argue for him?

He didn’t fight anywhere for a year. That was the idea when California revoked his license on Feb. 10, 2009. He did what he had to. He did the time. But the process is incomplete without an explanation that may – or may not – serve as the final punctuation in this ongoing controversy.

Top Rank’s plans for him to fight on the March 13 card featuring Manny Pacquiao and Joshua Clottey at Cowboys Stadium in Dallas were dropped because of pressure on Texas not to grant him a license. It just wasn’t going to happen.

His Texas application is still pending, but it doesn’t figure to go anywhere until he first re-applies in California. Even if he does that, there will be controversy that only he can address. If – as tentatively planned — Margarito fights on May 8 in Mexico, it would only be a further complication. Regulators in California or Nevada or Texas or Arizona probably would see the move as another way to duck the questions. He’s being doing a lot of that.

During the week before Pacquiao’s victory in November over Miguel Cotto in Las Vegas, he was scheduled to make an appearance at a nearby shopping mall. I and couple of other sportswriters jumped into a car and rushed out to meet him. He had been there. But by the time we arrived, he had vanished, which is what will happen to Margarito’s career if he doesn’t show up and practice some accountability.

Between Cotto’s victory over Clottey in June and his loss to Pacquiao, there had been a lot of talk about a Cotto-Margarito rematch. To this day, nobody knows whether Margarito’s gloves were similarly armed, locked and loaded in his stunning beat-down of Cotto.

But talk of a rematch, like Margarito, has vanished. Cotto told the English-speaking press that he would be interested in rematch. Then, he was quoted in the Spanish-speaking press as saying there was no way he would help Margarito make money.

Let’s just say that Cotto has his own suspicions.

Until we hear from Margarito, that’s all anybody has.

NOTES, QUOTES
· High school senior Jose Benavidez, a junior-welterweight from Phoenix, continued to impress by scoring two knockdowns in first-round stoppage of John Michael Vega Saturday night on the undercard of super-flyweight Nonito Donaire’s third-round KO of Manuel Vargas at the Las Vegas Hilton. Benavidez’ next fight is scheduled for the Pacquiao-Clottey weekend. He could appear on the undercard at Cowboys Stadium. But the place probably would be empty for bout early on the card. Instead, Benavidez (2-0, 2 KOs), who has Pacquiao trainer Freddie Roach in his corner, might fight on a Dallas card Friday night in smaller room where people would see him. And remember him.
· Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps, who won a record eight gold medals at the Beijing Olympics, has added some boxing drills to his training regimen. He’s not the first. Swimmer Gary Hall Jr., a 10-time medalist over three Olympics, put on gloves and hit the heavy bags for years. Hall, who taught heavyweight Earnie Shavers’ kids how to swim, was a fight fan. Hall, a sprinter, said the regimen helped strengthen his muscles and improved his reaction time off the starting blocks.

Michael Carbajal, who was always willing to fight anybody for as long as it took, is now in a fight he could never have imagined, few would ever believe and yet continues like a haunting nightmare.

It has been nearly two years since his brother, Danny, was sentenced to 54 months in prison for fraud and forgery after working as the trainer, manager and financial advisor for Michael, whose punches and blood earned more than $7 million in a Hall of Fame career as unique as any in a cruel business as old as Cain and Abel.

There was no healing on Feb. 21, 2008 when Danny was marched out of Maricopa County Superior Court in Phoenix and transported to the Arizona State Prison in Florence. There is no statute of limitations on betrayal. But at least it seemed as if it was over in a way that would allow Michael Carbajal to move on and repair a fractured life. It isn’t.

Michael now is fighting to save his mother, Mary, from an attempt by Danny to have her evicted from her Phoenix home, where she has lived for the last 15 years. Michael’s attorney, Ty Taber, said the home was purchased with money from the junior-flyweight’s purse in a 1990 victory for his first major championship, the International Boxing Federation’s title, which he took from Thailand’s Muangchai Kittikasem at old Veterans Memorial Coliseum in a Phoenix bout televised nationally by ABC.

“It’s unbelievable to me,’’ said Taber, a Phoenix attorney who was in the crowd for Carbajal’s dramatic seventh-round stoppage of Kittikasem two decades ago in a bout that was the first real sign of unprecedented stardom for one of boxing’s little guys. “Poor Michael. I mean, Danny thinks he has a big financial empire that he is manipulating from prison, where he sits, rotting away.

“I can’t believe he is doing this to his own mother.’’

In a letter dated Feb. 4, 2010 and addressed to Mary Carbajal, Danny’s attorney, Jonathan Dessaules, threatens eviction if she has not moved out by March 8. Other than to say that the letter spoke for itself, Dessaules, of Phoenix, had no comment.

“This is the lowest you can go,’’ said Michael, who called his oldest brother “a disgrace” after Phoenix reporter Paul Rubin broke the news in a chilling story, headlined Brother’s Keeper, for the Nov. 1, 2007 edition of the New Times.

Michael’s emotions ranged from angry to tearful as he sat on the steps in front of his Ninth Street Gym, once a church. Where the congregation once sat, there’s a ring. On a stage, there are heavy bags where the preacher once stood at the bully pulpit. Today, the only chorus is in the rhythms of a speed bag. But for Michael, it’s a place of faith, maybe more now than ever.

With help from friend and companion Laura Hall, Michael’s commitment to his mom, to what he knows and who he knows has been deepened by a personal trial, a breach of trust, brought on by a brother he never thought he would have to question.

“Yeah, he fooled you,’’ Michael said. “But he fooled me more than anybody.’’

The more that Michael looks around and reflects on his career, he sees reasons to believe that the trust once thought to be fundamental between brothers was always a fraud. For years, Danny said there was no legal contract between the two. There was no need, the brothers always said.
“We were family,’’ Michael said. “Danny always said it and I trusted that.’’

But Michael said he found an old document at the Court of Records a few days ago after he got news of the letter to his mom, now 78. It’s a managerial contract, said Michael, who said it was drawn up in October, 1988, or within weeks of his silver medal at the Seoul Olympics. He said it includes his signature.

“But I never signed my name to a contract with Danny,’’ Michael said. “I never saw that contract.’’

Trust in his brother was there, even during the first few years after Michael’s career ended in 1999. At his induction to the Boxing Hall of Fame at Canastota, N.Y., in June, 2005, Michael tearfully called Danny the world’s greatest trainer. By then, however, questions were beginning to emerge in the wake of the unsolved murder of Danny’s estranged wife Sally. Sally, who was in the crowd with Danny at the Seoul Olympics and at ringside for Michael’s pro career, was killed along with companion Gerry Best five years ago.

Danny was sentenced after pleading guilty to three felonies based on the theft — hundreds of thousand dollars was the reported estimate – from accounts and property held by Sally. Danny’s daughters, Josephine and Celia pleaded guilty to conspiring with their dad and against Sally, their mom. Neither was sentenced to jail.

In the threat to evict Mary Carbajal, now 78, from the home purchased for her after husband Manuel died in 1993, Michael is convinced he sees another damning stitch in a scheme, which was a word used by Judge Andrew Klein when he sentenced Danny.

“Greed and a pattern of wrongdoing spread out over three years,’’ Klein said.

In the Feb. 5 letter, it says that Mary Carbajal “admitted in sworn testimony” that Danny is the home’s owner of record. The letter also says: “You also do not pay any rent for your occupancy. Our client, therefore, has decided to terminate the occupancy…’’

In 2007, Michael filed legal documents, saying that he is the lawful owner of the home purchased for his mom, as well as other property in Phoenix. Mary Carbajal’s testimony is based on a lawsuit that she and Michael filed in another case involving life insurance. Danny is alleged to have bought policies, transferred them into his own name and then cashed them out.

“Your own mom, man,’’ Michael said. “How do you do something like this to a mom?’’

Michael looked off in the distance and then across Fillmore Street as if he was searching for an explanation. He saw an empty lot. A few weeds and no words.

The, a couple of grade-school girls, one on a bicycle, stopped in front of the gym. They looked at Michael smiled, looked up at the entrance and then back at Michael.

“Is it haunted in there?’’ one of the girls asked. “We hear there might be ghosts in there. Tell us, but don’t scare us.’’

Nah, he said.

“There are only good ghosts in there and they hang out in the basement,’’ said Michael, who then turned around and went inside, smiling and perhaps knowing that ghosts couldn’t haunt him the way a brother has.

NOTES, QUOTES
· One of the best in today’s generation of little guys, super-flyweight champ Nonito Donaire, faces a new opponent Saturday night at the Las Vegas Hilton in the featured bout on pay-per-view television. The original opponent had to suddenly withdraw a couple of days ago because of an eye problem. Instead of Gerson Guerrero, Donaire (22-1, 14 KOs) faces the unknown in Manuel Vargas (26-4-1, 11 KOs). Sometimes, the unknown is more dangerous than anything. “But it forces to you think, be spontaneous,’’ Donaire said Thursday in a conference call. “I’ll have to be aware and ready to make quick adjustments.’’

· Promoter Bob Arum mentioned that the Las Vegas Hilton was the site of Leon Spinks’ upset of Muhammad Ali in 1978. More fitting perhaps, it also was the Vegas hotel for Top Rank’s promotion of Carbajal’s signature fight, a seventh-round stoppage of Humberto Gonzalez in the first bout of their trilogy. Donaire is the star on a card featuring Filipino and Latin fighters in the lighter weight classes.

· More Donaire: He is a target for some trash talk from Vic Darchinyan, who is anxious for a rematch in an attempt to avenge his loss by knockout in 2007 to the likeable Filipino-American. “He’s like a little chihuahua, just barking and barking and barking,’’ said Donaire, who added that he soon will move up in weight to bantam, then feather. “For me, it is now or never for super-flyweight.’’

Anxiety gave way to relief Wednesday when it was announced that Floyd Mayweather, Jr., had finally signed for a May 1 fight with Shane Mosley, whose promotional point man, Golden Boy CEO Richard Schaefer, sounded as though the wait for Mayweather’s signature was a little bit like anticipating a dental appointment.

As it turns out, it was routine, a mere formality. Let’s just hope it stays that way until opening bell at Las Vegas’ MGM Grand for a May Day of a fight that won’t generate as much money as Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao would have, but promises to be as good, if not better.

The temptation is to say thanks to Mayweather for a convincing counter to everybody who parrots Bob Arum’s criticism that he is afraid of any threat to his unbeaten record. Well, Mosley, a natural welterweight, is that threat, bigger on a tale of the tape than Pacquiao, a relative newcomer to 147 pounds.

But you can never be sure with Mayweather. Schaefer’s angst, reflected in various news reports, sums up the uncertainty about a fighter with wonderful talents, yet as hard to pin down as he is to hit. Mayweather’s unpredictability is good for HBO’s 24/7, but exasperating for everybody else, including media quick to report that Mayweather had not signed only four days after the agreement — complete with Mosley’s signature — was announced.

The delay, not matter how brief, was enough to make everybody wonder what Mayweather was up to now. Plenty of skepticism is left in the messy wake of failed negotiations for a Mayweather-Pacquiao fight, which won’t happen on March 13 because Pacquiao said no to Mayweather’s demand for random, Olympic-style blood-testing. Everybody has been blamed, which only means that nobody’s reputation escapes unscathed.

Mayweather and Mosley now are scheduled to be in south Florida Sunday for the Super Bowl Sunday. It’s an interesting setting. Mayweather-Pacquiao had been called boxing’s Super Bowl. Peyton Manning and Drew Brees will never have to explain why the Colts and Saints couldn’t agree to a game. I’m not sure Mayweather will be able to explain why he couldn’t agree on a fight with Pacquiao. But it is safe say he will hear the questions and I’m sure he will blame Pacquiao, although familiar trash-talk might be punctuated with caution because of a defamation lawsuit.

Mistrust is everywhere. Mayweather-Mosley represents a real chance to move on. But it won’t be easy. In just a few days, the familiar jitters were there with questions about when – indeed, if — Mayweather would sign. The abortive talks for Mayweather-Pacquiao are just the latest reason.

In September, there was weight-gate before, during and after Mayweather’s unanimous decision over Juan Manuel Marquez. At 146 pounds on the day before the fight, Mayweather failed to meet the catch weight, 144, and willingly wrote a check for $600,000 — $300,000 for each excess pound – to Marquez.

From a ringside seat the next night, Mayweather often looked like a middleweight, especially when his back was to me. I can’t help but think it was no coincidence that he refused to step on unofficial scales for HBO not long before opening bell. After the one-sided fight, he dissed anybody who wanted to know how he heavy he was.

There are some things Mayweather just doesn’t want anybody to know. No wonder Schaefer and many in the media were nervous.

Here’s a suggestion: Andre Berto withdrew from a bout on Jan 30 with Mosley because of concern for family caught in the Haitian earthquake. Tell Berto to stay in the gym. You never know.

NOTES, QUOTES

· According to various reports, Mayweather and Mosley will undergo Olympic-style drug testing. Given Mayweather’s demand in talks for Pacquiao, he will have to insist on the procedure from now on. For Mosley, it’s a significant step. He was linked to performance-enhancers years ago in testimony to a grand jury investigating Balco. What’s not clear is who will conduct the tests. The Nevada State Athletic Commission? The U.S. Anti-Doping Agency? And who will pay for the tests? The fighters? The promoters? The lousy economy would seem to preclude any state commission from taking on the expense.

· News from the World Boxing Association says it will investigate Beibut Shumenov’s controversial split decision over Gabriel Campillo for the light-heavyweight championship on Jan. 29 at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas. While the acronym is at it, how about a few questions asking how a fighter, Shumenov, with only 10 pro bouts could even qualify for a shot at so-called major title?

· Intriguing Jose Benavidez, a 17-year-old junior-welterweight from Phoenix, is scheduled for his second pro fight on Feb. 13 against an unannounced foe at the Las Vegas Hilton on a card, Latin Fury 13/Pinoy Power 3, featuring super-flyweight Nonito Donaire (22-1, 14 KOs) against Gerson Guerrero (43-8, 26 KOs). There’s been some hope that Benavidez could help resurrect a Phoenix market, mostly dormant since Arizona began to enforce tough immigration laws. “I’d really love to fight in Phoenix,’’ Benavidez said. “Hey, it’s my hometown.’’

· And kudos to Chad Dawson, Guillermo Rigondeaux and Top Rank for promises to help in the Haiti relief. Dawson said he has started Champions Challenge. He has invested $5,000 of his money has asked other champs to match it. Rigondeaux, a two-time Olympic gold medalist from Cuba, says he will donate his purse from a fight Friday night against Adolfo Landeros in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., to the Children of Haiti Fund. Top Rank announced it is setting aside a percentage of ticket receipts for the earthquake victims.

LAS VEGAS – Beibut Shumenov, a lawyer in Kazakhstan, had a plan. Gabriel Campillo, a boxer from a country known best for fighting bulls, had the power. Put them together and you might have a good light-heavyweight. As it is, Bernard Hopkins and Chad Dawson don’t have much to worry about.

The plan prevailed.

Shumenov won a split decision Friday night and took the World Boxing Association’s version of the title from Campillo in a rematch that had a different winner, yet some of the same controversy from last August’s majority in Kazakhstan. Campillo won that one, although Shumenov has been arguing about it ever since.

This time, it is Campillo’s turn to argue.

“I got robbed and I want it investigated,’’ Campillo said as he stood in the middle of the ring at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino while his angry trainer, Sergio Martinez, had to be restrained from taking the bout into some extra-curricular rounds.

It safe to say that the left-hander from Spain won’t be getting any legal advice from Shumenov, who was bloodied, yet nimble enough to jump through enough loopholes to escape with a decision. Shumemov (9-1, 6 KOs) won 115-113 on Jerry Roth’s card. Judge Patricia Morse Jarman scored it 117-111 for the Kazakhstani attorney. On Levi Martinez’ card, it was 117-111 for Campillo (19-3, 5 KOS), who also suffered a cut over his left eye.

“I’m not surprised by the decision,’’ Shumenov said. “I thought I won.’’

There was plenty to argue about. After the opening couple of rounds, Campillo’s superior power appeared to be the ruling factor. Shumenov, often looking dazed, began to back away. If nothing else the argument figures to continue until the two fight for a third time. No matter what happens, there doesn’t figure to be much of an argument about who doesn’t belong at the top of the light-heavyweight division. Shumenov and Campillo don’t.

In time, may be. At least, that was the suggestion from Shumenov, who had former David Tua trainer Kevin Barry in his corner for the first time.

“The difference is that I have the best trainer in boxing,’’ said Shumenov, whose company co-promoted the card with Oscar De La Hoya’s company, Golden Boy. “He gave me all the directions to win this fight.’’

Directions good enough for two judges, anyway.

On the undercard:

The 10th lesson plan in junior-middleweight prospect Erislandy Lara’s education got off to a slow start, grew rocky and ended with him scoring a 10th-round TKO of Grady Brewer in the first televised fight on Fox Sports Net. Early on, Lara (10-0, 6 KOs) a former Cuban amateur, looked flat-footed and one-dimensional. He tried to set up his best punch, a straight left. In the fifth, Brewer (26-12, 15 KOs), who won The Contender in 2006, delivered some of his own reality television with rights that stunned Lara. But a head butt badly bloodied Brewer over the left eye in the sixth. Brewer never seemed to recover. He was dropped by a left late in the 10th. Referee Tony weeks stopped it 16 seconds before the closing bell.

The card’s first fight ended in front of a lot empty seats. Anybody looking for their seat would not have seen it anyway, because of a quick body shot from Gayrat Ahmedov (13-0-1, 9 KOs), a cruiserweight from Uzbekistan. Sixty-five seconds after the opening bell, Ahmedov landed a short left that dropped Harley Kilfian (8-4, 7 KOs), a Wisconsin cruiserweight who crashed onto the canvas like a wrecked motorcycle.

The body work continued in the second bout, thanks to another fighter from Uzbekistan, junior-middleweight Ravshan Hudaynazarov (10-, 9 KOs), who threw a left that sent Kenyan Shadrack Kipruot (10-13, 7 KOs) backpedaling onto the seat of his trunks and unable to continue in a TKO defeat at 1:26 of the third.

Eloy Perez beat the stroke of midnight and David Rodela.

With late Friday just a few minutes from turning into early Saturday, super-feather weight Perez (16-0-1, 4 KOs) of Salinas, Calif., battled through 10 bruising rounds for a unanimous decision over David Rodela (14-2-3, 6 KOs) in the final fight on a card that featured Beibut Shumenov’s split decision over Gabriel Campillo for a piece of the light-heavyweight title.

Rest of the undercard:
Las Vegas welterweight Jessie Vargas (8-0, 3 KOs) won a four-round unanimous decision over Rickey McKinney (3-2, 2 KOs) of Baton Rouge, La.

Featherweight Ronny Rios of Santa Ana, Calif., stayed unbeaten (9-0, 4 KOs) with a six-round unanimous decision over Wilshaun Boxley (5-4, 3 KOs) of Coons Rapids, Minn.

And a long night proved to be a short one for junior-welterweight Carlos Molina (10-0, 6 KOs), who needed only 54 seconds to score a first-round knockout of Tyler Ziolowski (12-11, 6 KOs) of St. Joseph, Mo.

LAS VEGAS — Shane Mosley has signed to fight Floyd Mayweather Jr. on May 1 at the MGM Grand, Mosley attorney Judd Burstein said Friday night while sitting at ringside after Beibut Shumenov took the World Boxing Association’s light-heavyweight title with a split decision over Gabriel Campillo at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino.

Mayweather has yet to sign, but his advisor Leonard Ellerbe said he expects him to.

Burstein also said that Mosley will be willing to undergo Olympic-style blood-testing. Burstein was linked to performance-enhancing drugs in testimony to a grand-jury that investigated Balco. Mosley was listed as a Balco client.

“We’ve agreed to anything as long as Floyd is doing it,” Burstein said.

Talks for a Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao fight on March 13 broke down when Mayweather demanded that Pacquiao undergo Olympic-style blood-testing. Pacquiao refused and instead will fight Joshua Clottey on March 13 at the Cowboys Stadium in Dallas.

It’s not exactly a comeback. Kevin Barry never really left. Home has always been in a corner, no matter how obscure. It’s just that the lights are beginning to brighten again for Barry at a post that has cornered a special place in his heart.

“Boxing is the love of my life,’’ Barry said.

That life, like marriage, tested Barry with familiar controversies, starting with his 1984 Olympic silver medal won in a disqualification of eventual heavyweight champ Evander Holyfield and including a split with David Tua in the courts of his native New Zealand.

Barry wasn’t sure he ever wanted to venture back toward the biggest stage, which in boxing can be as upside-down as the Down-Under in his homeland. In fact, he needed some convincing. But he’s glad he listened to a persuasive Beibut Shumenov (8-1, 6 KOs), a light-heavyweight from Kazakhstan who will have Barry in his corner Friday night in a Fox-televised rematch of his disputed loss by majority decision to World Boxing Association champion Gabriel Campillo (19-2, 6 KOs) of Spain at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas.

Initially, Barry wasn’t interested. He was content and busy in Las Vegas, training kick boxers, mixed-martial-arts fighters, kids who hope to box and old guys who think they still can. But Shumenov, also a Las Vegas resident, proved to be irresistible, perhaps because Barry saw some of himself in a 26-year-old fighter who decided to go pro three years after fighting for Kazakhstan at the 2004 Olympics.

“I actually had him work with a few young fighters of my own some time ago,’’ said Barry, who grew up in the in Christchurch on New Zealand’s south island and has been living in Las Vegas since 2004. “So I saw him early on. I saw the strength, the power, the hand speed. He had all the makings of a good fighter. He’s a real physical specimen. Very quick. Very explosive.’’

Also very smart and very sure of what he wants, Barry says.

“Over the last couple of months that I’ve spent with him, I found out so much more about the man,’’ Barry said. “He is so disciplined. He really lives the life of a professional athlete.’’

It’s a commitment that might have been forged during his years away from boxing, a sabbatical that also explains his record of only nine fights. The self-managed Shumenov worked as a businessman in Kazakhstan after the 2004 Games, Barry said.

“I’m not sure a lot of people know, but he is a lawyer in Kazakhstan,’’ Barry said. “He’s very intelligent. It’s really a privilege to work with somebody who has actually got something in the top six inches. You’re not having to beat it into him, day in and day out. He makes small adjustments. He does his homework. He corrects flaws. He’s a pleasure to work with.’’

Still, it’s early. Bright lights can blind with self-imposed, often unforeseen pressures. Then, there’s always that one, unseen punch that can scramble the top six inches of the best and the brightest.

“Of course, when the lights go on and the bell sounds on live TV, sometimes things change,’’ Barry says.

In 1984, they changed for Barry. Barry never got a chance to fight for the light-heavyweight’s gold medal. Silver was the color of consolation. Holyfield was repeatedly warned for hitting on the break. When the referee yelled break, Holyfield landed a flurry of combinations that put Barry on the canvas, knocked out and out of the gold-medal bout. That was the end of Barry’s career, at least inside the ropes. Twenty-six years later, the 50-year-old trainer has no regrets.

In some ways, he says his unique moment in Olympic history led to friendships and created opportunities that continue to this day.

He became friendly with Holyfield, although he is saddened that the ex-champion continues to fight. Holyfield’s bout with Frans Botha in Uganda, scheduled for Feb. 20, was canceled Thursday because the promised money came with no guarantees. There are reports that it will be re-scheduled, possibly for March 6 in Miami.

“It’s sad,’’ said Barry, who believes Holyfield is damaging his legacy. “He’s fighting, but as a shadow of the great fighter he was. That’s the sad part.’’

In the controversy immediately following the 1984 Olympics, there was an offer that might have made a difference in Barry’s life. A Barry-Holyfield rematch as pros was discussed. But the deal never came together, Barry said. He went home to New Zealand where, he said, “there wasn’t a lot of love for Americans’’ because of the Olympic controversy.

Meanwhile, pro boxing just wasn’t an opportunity in New Zealand in 1984. Eight years later, that changed with David Tua, a bronze medalist at the 1992 Barcelona Games. Tua was washing dishes in an Auckland restaurant when Barry decided to approach him with an offer.

“In my day, that just wasn’t there, not in New Zealand,’’ said Barry, who added that he lacked power, yet was quick and had a terrific jab. “Then, there wasn’t anybody who could put together a professional package to make it work.’’

Tua’s power and entertaining Down-Under persona became an immediate hit in the U.S. that was punctuated by explosive stoppages of John Ruiz and Michael Moorer. But he fell short of a major title in disappointing performance against Lennox Lewis. Barry and Tua were together for 12 years before they headed to divorce court in messy proceedings that lasted six years. The case was finally resolved in October.

“In the position I was, I had pretty much given up at getting back to the highest level in boxing,’’ Barry said. “Even so, things had gotten a lot better. But then this happened with Beibut. I feel extraordinarily privileged. It’s rejuvenated my life. I just feel very lucky.’’

Lucky enough, perhaps, to also be in the corner for his first fighter with a major title, the only thing missing in the home his heart has always occupied.

NOTES, QUOTES

· Phoenix 17-year-old Jose Benavidez Jr., 1-0 after winning a stoppage a couple of weeks ago in Las Vegas, was back in his hometown a week ago after an impressive debut in his 10-fight deal with Top Rank. As a high school senior, he still needs time and bouts to prove he is a true prospect. But he already has captured the imagination of a Phoenix community that hasn’t had real boxing star since Hall of Famer Michael Carbajal. Kids stood in line at Central Boxing for nearly two hours just to get an autograph from Benavidez, who resumed training in Los Angeles at Freddie Roach’s Wild Card Gym in anticipation of a possible appearance on the Manny-Pacquiao-Joshua Clottey undercard March 13 in Dallas.

· If he could do it over, Pacquiao probably would never have posed like a body-builder in those photos that are all over the internet. One look and it’s hard not to think about Floyd Mayweather Sr.’s allegations about performance enhancers.

· And speaking of second thoughts, Wizard guards Gilbert Arenas and Javaris Crittenton flashed guns in a NBA locker room for a Washington franchise which used to be called the Bullets.

Shaquille O’Neal has a good idea and now boxing needs a few good men to do what Kobe Bryant and LeBron James won’t. Fight for Haiti.

With noisy rancor and none of the humor that punctuates the late-night feuding between Jay Leno and David Letterman, the public is turned off by everything said and alleged in the abortive negotiations for a Manny Pacquiao-Floyd Mayweather fight. But a chance to come together behind a good cause and for one of its own, Andre Berto, is there with the tragic earthquake that has left Port-au-Prince looking like prehistoric rubble.

O’Neal suggests that the NBA’s richest celebrities compete in the slam-dunk contest at the next All-Star Game. He wants to give half of the proceeds to Haiti. But apparently Bryant and James have decided they would rather save their legs instead of the Haitians. They said no to O’Neal’s proposal, according to various news reports. But the idea is, well, a slam dunk.

A couple of cards, one put together by Top Rank and the other by Golden Boy Promotions, with a percentage of proceeds from each for Haitian relief would say that Bob Arum, Richard Schaefer, Oscar De La Hoya, Pacquiao, Mayweather and all of the other usual suspects can actually agree on something bigger than a personal agenda.

The lead had already been taken by Berto, the World Boxing Council’s welterweight champion who set aside the biggest opportunity in his career and withdrew from a Jan. 30 bout with Sugar Shane Mosley at Las Vegas’ Mandalay Bay. Instead, Berto is headed to Haiti, his homeland, where at least eight in his family are reportedly dead. His sister, Naomi, her daughter and his niece, Jessica, are homeless.

“I have seen the pain in my parents’ eyes as they attempt to understand what has happened to our homeland,’’ Berto said in a statement. “…As a result of this disaster, I am mentally and physically exhausted, and I have no choice but to withdraw.’’

In a business so characterized by decisions dictated only by me-me-me, Berto’s selfless act stands out, especially in the immediate wake of the blame-game played out in the Pacquiao-Mayweather talks.

Against Mosley, Berto, who lives in Florida and was the only boxer on the Haitian Olympic team at the 2004 Athens Games, finally had his chance at becoming a player at the welterweight table. Upset Mosley, and there was a spot in line against Pacquiao and maybe Mayweather. Fight a competitive bout, and there might have been a rich rematch and even bigger riches against the biggest names in the sport.

But there is a bigger fight, Berto’s only fight. Boxing should help him fight it and in the process help itself.

NOTES, ANECDOTES

· Already, there are headlines saying that Mayweather-Mosley is almost a done deal for sometime in early May. Please, there were headlines that said the same thing about Pacquiao-Mayweather before their March 13 deal was done in. I won’t believe Mayweather is fighting until I see him in the ring with gloves on, robe off and answering an opening bell.

· If Joshua Clottey doesn’t make the Pacquiao corner nervous, he should. The March 13 date in a ring on a NFL field at the Dallas Cowboys palace has the potential to further remind everybody that they blew a chance at boxing’s Super Bowl, Pacquiao-Mayweather. Clottey is as durable as anybody in the welterweight division. He has been reminded that he was passive in the late rounds of a narrow loss to Miguel Cotto so often that he’s not likely to repeat that error. Then, there’s Pacquiao, whose motivation might have taken ht when the Mayweather talks unraveled. Pacquiao also might be looking ahead to a campaign for a Congressional seat in the Philippines. Elements for a major upset are in place.

There’s been plenty of speculation about whom Floyd Mayweather Jr. could or should fight in the wake of abortive talks for a showdown with Manny Pacquiao, yet no talk about whether Mayweather will continue to demand Olympic-style blood-testing.

Let’s just say that the demand is a mandatory defense.

Without it, Pacquiao, Bob Arum, Freddie Roach and a gallery full of critics have a compelling reason to say that blood-testing was a just a ruse that allowed Mayweather to sidestep a threat to his unbeaten record from the Filipino, who now faces a dangerous date against Joshua Clottey on March 13 in Dallas. With it, Mayweather can claim a measure of consistency that says the demand was not just a convenient feint.

It’s fair to argue that Mayweather and Golden Boy Promotions CEO Richard Schaefer asked for comprehensive blood-testing at the wrong time and in the wrong venue. First, they should have introduced the idea to the Nevada State Athletic Commission, the regulatory agency for a fight that had been planned for March 13 at Las Vegas’ MGM Grand.

Pacquiao, Arum and Roach still might have said no-no-no, but they would have had to scream their complaints to a body that is supposed to regulate and not negotiate.

At the very least, the demand was confrontational in talks ruled, first and foremost, by egos easily insulted, usually suspicious and always seeking an edge. If Mayweather doesn’t stand by the demand in possible negotiations for a fight with Timothy Bradley or Paulie Malignaggi or Paul Williams, then it looks as if he were singling out Pacquiao despite the Filipino’s clean record of tests in Nevada, California and Texas.

Drug tests for a boxing license in Nevada or any other state are as outdated as a pay-phone. Then again, so are other tests, which always seems to be a split-second late or a home run short of the latest in performance-enhancing technology.

Mark McGwire finally admitted the obvious a few days ago when he said he used steroids. Gee, ya think. The biggest headline in that news story should have been McGwire’s stated belief that he thinks the performance-enhancers didn’t help him hit those record-setting 70 homers in 1998. Maybe, he thinks that only the ball was juiced. Dick Pound, a former president of the World Anti- Doping Agency, ripped major-league baseball. Arum had suggested that baseball oversee testing for Pacquiao-Mayweather instead of the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency.

“What has emerged in the whole baseball mess is that drug use is widespread and that even the best players are involved – and still MLB is whistling past the graveyard,’’ Pound said in an e-mail quoted by the Associated Press. “If you notice, McGwire talks about steroids and HGH (and many other doping substances). These MLB positions are not indicators of a real attempt to solve the drug use problem in baseball.’’

Pound didn’t mention boxing. Then again, he also didn’t mention Marion Jones, who went to jail for lying under oath about performance-enhancers, yet never tested positive for one after the sprinter won five medals at the Sydney Olympics.

There is no reliable test. But there is consistency and that’s the only way for Mayweather to defend himself, no matter who he fights. If he and Bradley or Malignaggi or Williams or whoever take the blood-tests, it will be that much harder for Pacquiao to just say no. Without that consistency, Mayweather will be left with only a hidden agenda.

A month for champs

Muhammad Ali turns 68 Sunday. Ali plans to celebrate in his hometown, Louisville, before returning next week to his residence in Phoenix.

Speaking of birthdays, there are many to celebrate in January. Ali’s old bitter rival, Joe Frazier, turned 66 on Tuesday, Jan. 12. Another Ali rival, George Foreman, turned 61 last Sunday, Jan. 10. Bernard Hopkins is 45 today, Friday, Jan. 15.

Notes, quotes, anecdotes

· A potential prospect, Jose Benavidez, a 17-year-old junior-welterweight from Phoenix, gets his first pro tests Saturday night in Las Vegas against Steve Cox (1-0) of Independence, Mo., on a Top Rank card featuring junior-middleweight Vanes Martiroysan versus Kassim Ouma at the Hard Rock. Benavidez, a national Golden Gloves champion, got some YouTube attention for the way he handled himself against Amir Kahn in sparring a couple of months ago at Roach’s Wild Card Gym in Los Angeles.

· News item: James Toney, a former quarterback, is trying to talk his way into a UFC bout and former NFL running back, Herschel Walker has been training for mixed-martial arts. Reaction: A Toney-Walker date in a cage can’t be too far away.

Relief might be best thing about the apparent end Wednesday of the Manny Pacquiao-Floyd Mayweather negotiations. Maybe, we won’t have to hear about them, any of them, for at least a while.

If interest is measured by hits that rank daily stories on internet sites, readership of blow-by-blow accounts of the talks was crashing faster than Arizona real estate anyway. It looked as if a potential pay-per-view audience or two full of casual fans got sick of the dizzy on-again, off-again silliness and had moved on sometime before the legal suits and mediators arrived like ambulances too late to an accident. No telling when those fans will be back, if ever.

Meanwhile, the battered game also has to move on and sustain itself until another opportunity can be squandered. Despite the doom-and-gloom, it can. It always has. Resiliency was really the story of 2009. Alexis Arguello, Vernon Forrest and Arturo Gatti died. Oscar De La Hoya retired amid predictions that the business was finally finished. Still, there was a resurrection in November with talk of the good old days before and after Pacquiao’s victory over Miguel Cotto

Now, that boxing begins a New Year in the same old place – which is to say nowhere at all, it is also back with a chance to do what it always does. It survives. That well-practiced habit could resume with anyone. From here to Kelly Pavlik, Brian Viloria looks as if he is a good beginning. Viloria (26-2, 15 KOs) is in the right place, right time, against Colombian Carlos Tamara (20-4, 14 KOs) in Manila Saturday (January 23rd), Friday (January 22nd) in the United States. He also has been on a path that personifies the dependable resiliency in a craft so fragile, yet so durable.

Not so long ago, Viloria also thought he was done.

“It took a lot of soul-searching,’’ said Viloria, who will defend the International Boxing Federation’s junior-flyweight title on Solar Entertainment, a Filipino-based company, in a pay-per-view card scheduled to begin at 7 p.m. Friday in Los Angeles (10 p.m. in New York).

Viloria’s soul began to become conflicted after he put Ruben Contreras in critical condition with a head injury in 2005 at Los Angeles’ Staples Center.

“I don’t want to say that it was just one event,’’ said Viloria, who visited Contreras at the hospital and saw him later at ringside for one of his subsequent bouts. “There were a lot of things happening within my life.’’

So many that Viloria didn’t recognize himself, or at least the fighter who seemed to be on the express elevator to ring riches and renown not long after the 2000 Games in Sydney. But boxing isn’t supposed to be easy. Real conflict, in a ring and within the soul, never is. Know that, and you’ll understand that unbeaten might be just another way of saying untested. Viloria is neither. He has been beaten, first by Omar Romero in 2006 and then by Edgar Sosa in 2007, and then tested by his own doubts.

“To be great, I think you just have to battle with yourself a lot more,’’ said Viloria, a Filipino-American who grew up near Pearl Harbor on the Hawaiian island of Oahu. “I think it is more of an issue with yourself than it is an opponent. With those fights, I found myself as more of an enemy, an obstacle to conquer, than my opponent.

“I know my talents, my abilities. It was me, battling me.’’

It is battle that never quite ends. But Viloria understands it now more than ever, first because of some long talks with friends and family in Hawaii and in Los Angeles with manager Gary Gittelsohn.

“To be frank, I was pushing him to make a decision to go in a different direction,’’ said Gittelsohn, who calls Viloria “a Renaissance Man,’’ for his many interests, which includes everything from broadcasting to music. “I knew he had God-given skills as a fighter. But we know this business and we know that economic opportunities for a 108-pound fighter, even a world champ, are limited. So, if you don’t bank it early and fast and efficiently, I didn’t want this kid just knocking around. There are too many of those stories in this sport.’’

The heart-to-heart, Gittelsohn said, came at a time when Viloria had been dismissed, “written off..” During a nine-month hiatus after the Sosa loss, however, Viloria said he just felt incomplete.

“I felt like I needed some closure, some things that I still had to do as a fighter,’’ he said.

But that meant a tough price. Gittelsohn told Viloria that he had to start over. In January of 2008, he did in a scheduled eight-rounder in an outdoor ring on grounds in Alameda, Calif., that usually were occupied by shoppers at a swap meet. The booths were closed. Had they been open, Viloria could have bought an umbrella, if not a boat. He could have used one, maybe both. It rained enough to fill a spit bucket.

“He had to be carried to the ring so he wouldn’t get his shoes soaked,’’ Gittelsohn said. “It was surreal.’’

By then, however, Viloria was ready for any kind of storm.

“Gary warned me that I had to take a step back, that it wasn’t going to be easy,’’ said Viloria, who won a decision over Jose Garcia Bernal. “He told me I had to get out of the comfort zone. Sure enough, I walked out into the pouring rain. It was 45, 50 degrees in January. But I just said: ‘OK, if this is what I have to do. I’ll do it.’

“I just threw all of my accomplishments and ego out of the window and went back to Square One.’’

The rain fell like a baptism, washing away the doubts and leaving only the commitment that Viloria always knew was there. Since then, he has won seven straight fights, including perhaps his finest victory, a knockout of Ulises Solis. The 11th-round stoppage last April resurrected the possibility that maybe Viloria could be the next Michael Carbajal, the former junior-flyweight champion from Phoenix and a Hall of Famer who is the biggest American name in the history of boxing’s little guys.

“Carbajal is the first big name in my weight class,’’ said Viloria, who worked as a ringside analyst for Solar during Pacquiao’s victory over Cotto. “When I think of Michael, I think of really big shoes to fill.’’

Carbajal emerged because he had rival, a business partner, in Chiquita Gonzalez. Gonzalez, a popular junior-flyweight from Mexico City fighter, won two narrow decisions in rematches of a trilogy that started in 1993 with a dramatic knockout delivered by Carbajal, who was the first in the lightest weight classes to collect a $1 million purse.

Viloria still has to win in Manila next weekend. If he does, Gittelsohn foresees a similar rivalry with Puerto Rican Ivan Calderon. There already were preliminary discussions last June after Calderon suffered a cut in head butt that led to a draw with Rodel Mayol on the undercard of Cotto’s victory over Joshua Clottey in New York.

With damage left in the wake of the failed Pacquiao-Mayweather negotiations, the Carbajal parallel is intriguing on another level. Carbajal has often been called a pioneer, because he created opportunities for fighters in forgotten weight classes. More significant, he awakened promoters to an untapped market. Carbajal’s emergence, unlikely as it was timely, coincided with ex-heavyweight champ Mike Tyson’s 3-year prison sentence on a 1992 rape conviction.

Boxing then, like now, was reeling. But it survived and eventually recreated itself with fans and fighters once ignored. That story is more than just familiar. It might be repeating itself in Viloria’s resiliency.

“When archaeologists discover the missing arms of Venus de Milo, they will find she was wearing boxing gloves.”
— John Barrymore

The late Barrymore, a great American actor more than 70 years ago, is long gone, but he could have been speaking about the Manny Pacquiao-Floyd Mayweather negotiations, which have been putting more nausea into ad nauseam with each passing day. It’s hard to know whether to laugh, cry, scream or just ask for the barf bag.

I’ve done all of that and more since the talks spun out of control and into a familiar gutter. There are no winners here, other than perhaps Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones and Arizona Senator John McCain.

Jones must be relieved that nobody dragged him into it by accepting his $25-million offer to stage the fight at Cowboys Stadium. McCain has to be happy he didn’t follow up on a reported suggestion that he become an arbitrator. The escalating Pacquiao-Mayweather blood feud makes the health-care debate sound like kumbaya. There’s no peace here. Only a piece of you-know-what.

How the talks, seemingly so smooth in the early stages, turned into such a stinking mess is probably not a surprise if placed within boxing’s usual context, which is older than Barrymore’s defining line and probably at least as ancient as the marble in the de Milo statue. But Pacquiao-Mayweather looked as if it were a chance to move on and beyond a frayed way of doing business.

That said, the business still beckons with enough potential money to say that it also wouldn’t be a surprise if the fight was signed, sealed and delivered in a sudden announcement next week. With a reported potential of $40 million for each side, it’s hard, perhaps impossible, to walk away. In the end, nobody is making a compromise. There is only one thing they’re making: Money, money, money.

But the process won’t make new fans out of a public leery of a sport that never seems to get out of its own way. Michael Katz, who is to fight-writing what Barrymore was to acting, would write that the only thing killing boxing is boxing. Nothing has changed and, oh yeah, Happy New Year.

Pacquiao’s defamation suit, filed Wednesday in U.S. District Court in Las Vegas, against Mayweather Jr., Mayweather Sr., Roger Mayweather, Oscar De La Hoya and Golden Boy Promotions CEO Richard Schaefer could only insert more vitriol into rancor that began with the Mayweather camp’s demand for Olympic-style blood testing. That’s one interpretation among many, too many.

Who knows? Both sides were quick to say that the lawsuit doesn’t necessarily kill the fight. Okay, then maybe it is just another step in the negotiations. To wit: The Pacquiao camp says it will drop the lawsuit if Mayweather backs off on the demand for random testing, especially unannounced tests within 30 days of opening bell, which had been scheduled for March 13. Then again, maybe the lawsuit is a real expression of Pacquiao’s anger at how he believes he has been smeared by the blood-testing demand, which includes at least an implication he is using HGH.

Pacquiao’s drug-testing resume is spotless in Nevada. But the state’s Athletic Commission doesn’t conduct the comprehensive, random tests done by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency. Oh yeah, USADA has been another issue. The Mayweather camp wanted it to conduct the tests. No way, said the Pacquiao promoter Bob Arum, who has said urine testing is sufficient. But physicians have said repeatedly that only random blood tests can detect HGH.

Credibility? That’s hard to detect anywhere.

The Mayweather demands are undercut on several fronts. Schaefer said no to blood testing for Shane Mosley, a former BALCO client, amid plans for a fight in 2008 against Zab Judah. According to reports of testimony to a grand-jury investigation, Mosley said he unknowingly used the clear, the cream and EPO, which were Performance Enhancing Drugs readily available in BALCO’s PED dispenser. Yet, Schaefer said Mosley had never tested positive in tests conducted by the Nevada State Athletic Commission. Hence, Schaefer said, it was wrong to treat him as a cheater.

“We are not going to do other tests than the Nevada commission requires,’’ Schaefer said in an Associated Press story. “The fact is Shane is not a cheater and he does not need to be treated like one.”

Why should Pacquiao be treated any differently?

Then, there’s Pacquiao who has reportedly said he doesn’t like needles, yet has tattoos that prove he has been needled often. Pacquiao’s anger at suspicions inherent to Mayweather’s demands is understandable. But those same suspicions are also the price of athletic fame these days. Even if Pacquiao pursues the lawsuit and wins, he will have to live with questions he can’t knock out. Olympic swimmer Dara Torres underwent a battery of random tests at her own request when she decided to make a comeback as a 40-year-old mom. She passed them all. Yet, suspicions are still there.

Olympic-style testing, no matter what acronym conducts them, is random and more thorough than anything done by a boxing commission. But the prevailing assumption is that athletes are always a masking agent ahead of any technology.

Mayweather has to know that, too, and he has used it in what some say is an early attempt at gamesmanship. Then again, there are others who say that Mayweather is simply hiding behind the demand in an attempt to delay the fight until May or September. The theory is that Mayweather has decided he wants a tune-up.

An extra helping of skepticism is needed for anything done by Mayweather. He likes to talk about a level playing field and transparency, yet he was happy to pay Juan Manuel Marquez $600,000 — $300,000 a pound – for being two over the contracted weight in September. Then, he refused an HBO request to step on an unofficial scale on the night before his one-sided decision over Marquez. So much for transparency.

In hindsight, you can only wonder why everybody talked and acted as though the March 13 fight was a done deal when there wasn’t a contract with Mayweather’s signature on it. There’s another New Year’s resolution in there somewhere.

But maybe this flap is a good thing. Initially, Pacquiao trainer Freddie Roach balked at March 13. It was too early, he said. Pacquiao still needed time to recover from his bruising victory over Miguel Cotto in November. And, yeah, maybe Mayweather really does need a tune-up. And, maybe, a fight later in 2010 will lead to some history in the ring and a rich rematch. More important, maybe it represents an opportunity for Nevada and other state boxing commissions to upgrade the testing process, especially for the biggest fights.

But, please, quit all the rancorous maybes and get the fight done. If there are only lawsuits and screaming arguments, only archaeologists will find the game, buried with de Milo’s long, lost arms.

Photo By Chris Farina/Top Rank