Time running out for PacMan and boxing

“THAT’S MUHAMMAD ALI!” the boxer blurted out, his eyes suddenly filling up with tears and rage.

“They shouldn’t be doing that to him, he shouldn’t be up there, having his mouth wiped, barely able to sit upright. Why do they do that to him? That’s Muhammad Ali for f**k’s sake.”

I was on the receiving end of this alarming late-night diatribe, a few hours and a few drinks after Muhammad Ali had gifted his aura — unblemished, compared to his physical state — to the gathered guests at the American Ireland Fund charity dinner in Manhattan’s Upper West Side last Thursday.

I naively assumed that any athlete, especially someone from the fight game, would be required to see the champ in the flesh as a rite of passage. Surely to be in the presence of such greatness, no matter how much havoc time has wreaked, would be enough to inspire anyone to achieve even a sliver of Ali’s glory.

But then I’ve never invested my every sinew into any of my heroes so I’ve never risked the crushing comedown of being exposed to their frailties, their age or their flaws.

Boxers are, of course, a different breed. All those lonely rounds and lonely bouts shape the fighter like pottery. What was once a lump of clay is spun around and slimmed and pulled and stretched until one singular, focused object emerges, the excess material discarded.

The danger of course is that it might shatter before your eyes. No boxer can deal with the raw fear associated with seeing how their game has destroyed their heroes.

There he is, up on that stage. Still too far away to touch but close enough to feel the power of his presence. There’s Ali, as near to a mythical character as any sport has ever produced.

Behind his hunched frame, a big screen plays his highlights and we mortals get a rush of joy. Only the boxer weeps because here is what his hero did and here is what it did to him.

Two nights later, over 2,500 miles away, big-time boxing’s only hope enters the ring.

In the months of build-up to Manny Pacquiao v Shane Mosley, the plan had been for this century’s greatest exponent of boxing to, if not redeem the sport, then keep it buoyant enough to avoid the increasingly likely possibility that Pacquiao will be the last true star of the ring.

A few weeks ago, at a Manhattan gathering celebrating the work of great boxing writers, Pacquiao expert Gary Andrew Poole bemoaned golfer YE Yang’s higher ranking in the recognition stakes for American sports fans. Poole, the author of last year’s PacMan: Behind The Scenes With Manny Pacquiao, tried to reconcile the notion that the “pound-for-pound greatest” boxer, whose God-like status at home in the Philippines merits an entourage of eccentric proportions, could probably jog down Main St, USA with little worry of being disturbed.

Unfortunately for Poole’s comparison, Yang would that very weekend set Augusta alight along with Rory McIlroy before fading to a tie for 20th at the most intriguing and most viewed US Masters in years.

Boxing, meanwhile, ranks with late-night poker in TV ratings in a country where there used be old bars with old television sets showing the latest big fight, free for all to view and argue over passionately. In this dearth of recognition, Pacquiao’s most straightforward battle seems to be inside the ring and therein lies his biggest dilemma.

As the 39-year-old Mosley lumbered towards a points defeat, knowing that all he had to do was stay upright and sane so as to enjoy his $10m (€6.95m) payday, the boos rang around the MGM Grand as more than 16,000 punters wondered why they’d bothered.

“It’s not my fault,” Pacquiao said. “I’m happy that I won the fight but my first concern is the satisfaction of the crowd. I want to give a good performance. I think he felt my power. But what am I going to do if my opponent doesn’t want to fight toe-to-toe?”

Pulling the promotion strings for Saturday’s fight was Top Rank chief Bob Arum, Ali’s manager during his incredible career. According to Arum, Pacquiao will fight again in November but reading between the lines, the Floyd Mayweather Jr showdown is now further away than ever.

“(Pacquiao) would beat the crap out of Mayweather,” Arum told The Atlantic. “I guarantee it. And the person who knows that best is Floyd Mayweather.”

The most ironic part about the slow demise of boxing is that a potential — if momentary — rescue in the form of this dream match-up would be its biggest ever payday for all involved. The star burns brightest before it dies but, tragically, boxing is further away than ever from one last moment in the spotlight.

Contact: [e-mail]; Twitter: JohnWRiordan.