There are almost as many interpretations of the zero on the losing side of Floyd Mayweather Jr.’s ledger as there are victories in the column that betting odds say is about to go from 41 to 42. That 0 is a blank canvas. What adds up to nothing can amount to anything, maybe everything about Mayweather.
On one level, it’s baffling. Only in boxing can unbeaten mean unproven. Yet on another level, a fighter’s ability and character have always been measured in terms of how he deals with defeat. From Sugar Ray Robinson to Muhammad Ali, a loss makes them human and the comeback makes them great. Other than Rocky Marciano, those are the terms in the fine print that go into the creation of a legend.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: Without a loss, it’s just hard to know what to make of Mayweather. Perhaps, that’s unfair. Perhaps, it’s just a sign that there aren’t any great fighters these days, but don’t tell that to Manny Pacquiao. The suspicion is that Pacquiao-Mayweather hasn’t happened, simply because Mayweather is protecting that zero.
True?
False?
How about: Who knows?
That’s the only conclusion I got out of a conference call this week with Mayweather in the build-up to his Sept. 17 bout at Las Vegas’ MGM Grand with Victor Ortiz, who is enjoying a spike in popularity because he came back from lingering doubts left in the wake of a 2009 loss to Marcos Maidana.
Mayweather was his quick-silver self, which means he was entertaining, insightful, over-the-top cocky and annoying all at once. The zero said it all. We know zip about him.
He thanked the media. No kidding. Then, he turned his rhetorical venom on to his surrogate whipping boy, Oscar De La Hoya, while praising De La Hoya’s promotional CEO, Richard Schaefer.
“Can’t even call it Golden Boy Promotions anymore,’’ Mayweather said after ripping De La Hoya for talking about drugs, drinking and wearing women’s underwear in a recent Univision interview. “Got to call it Richard Schaefer Promotions.’’
Meanwhile, he sent up some more red flags about whether the left-handed Ortiz was in fact a step toward finally agreeing to a deal with Pacquiao, also a southpaw, for the only fight which interests casual fans, which means most people.
“If you’re the best, take the test,’’ Mayweather said in one of several references to the drug-testing demand that was the sticking point in the last round of abortive negotiations.
Mayweather repeated charges that could lead to a rocky start of renewed talks.
“It’s okay for (Pacquiao) to go from 105 (pounds) to 154 and he gets knockouts and they say: ‘You know what? It’ all natural,’ ‘’ he said. “But if I went from 147 to heavyweight and was knocking out heavyweights, would that be all natural? That’s what you got to ask yourself at the end of the day.’’
Mayweather compared himself to some of the best in his favorite pastime, basketball. Like LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, Mayweather said he was well-known and considered a future professional star even when he was a high-school teenager. But Pacquiao, he said, came from nowhere.
“Suddenly at 25, he’s this good,’’ Mayweather said of the Filipino. “Come on.’’
Mayweather’s pointed questions were often offset by either common sense or a genuine sense that he cares. Remember, this is the same Mayweather who paid for Genaro Hernandez’ funeral in June. Hernandez helped launch Mayweather’s career in 1998 when Mayweather knocked him out in the eighth round.
“Hernandez gave me my first real opportunity,’’ Mayweather said during the conference call.
He said other things, both insightful and heartfelt.
On his notorious nickname, Money: “My health is more important than money.’’
When asked about possible distractions, he talked about alleged altercations, including one in which he was reported to have poked a security guard in the face.
“I don’t know no one who pokes somebody in the face when they’ve got a gun on them,’’ Mayweather said.
Anybody who has covered Mayweather through his long career has encountered this unexpected side to him. The man has money and moods. Yet in brief encounters away from a dysfunctional crowd that seems to egg on a personality that revels in being boxing’s bad boy, he can be a nice guy.
His legal problems include domestic abuse charges involving an ex-girlfriend, Josie Harris, also the mother of his children. In talking about that allegation, Mayweather talked about the night in 2006 when he beat Zab Judah. A brawl erupted, involving Judah, Yoel Judah, Zab’s dad and trainer, and Roger Mayweather, Floyd’s uncle-and-trainer.
Floyd Mayweather stood to one side, peaceful and under control in a ring where the violence threatened to become a riot.
The Mayweather of that night stands in sharp contrast to the one we often hear and the one we sometimes read about in stories that include a booking photo.
They don’t add up, just like that zero.
