From Las Vegas -- An old wives' tale claims they once held a boxing news conference and there was actual news.
Not Wednesday.
They trotted out Manny Pacquiao and Ricky Hatton, opponents for Saturday night's next big deal in the sport. Both acted responsibly, spoke sensibly, brought no new insight to their match, and sat down.
Unless Mike Tyson, Bernard Hopkins or Floyd Mayweather Jr. are fighting, the lead-up show is never about the boxers and always about the window dressing.
That's the eternal charm. Boxing is the world's only honestly dishonest sport. It is the University of Con Artists, the Academy of the Slick. It is the worm of organized athletics. Cut off a piece of it here, another there, and it still keeps wiggling.
If you are a member of the media, the people who run boxing know that you know. And you know that they know that you know.
College sports, for example, yammers on about building character, when it is mostly building pros. Boxing just builds characters. It looks you right in the eye, tells you it will try to con you, and then proceeds.
Wednesday's extravaganza, in a huge ballroom at the MGM Grand, where the media messengers of this madness flocked in large numbers, included a fashion show, strange bedfellows, comments on international relations, insults and poetry, tugs at the heart strings, and the ever-present slick-selling.
This is geared to getting ink-stained wretches, Internet typists and TV talking heads in tight black dresses to gobble up the inanities of the day and dispense them to the public so the public will buy pay-per-view packages at $49.95. That's the message. The only one.
Delivering it was a long row of men on a dais, their fashion statements running from three-piece suits to sport coat and T-shirts to wind breakers and sweat suits. Pacquiao wore white shoes, pants and sport coat with a black tam. Hatton, who referred to himself as a fat, beer-drinking Englishman, wore a T-shirt and a black floppy hat.
The master-of-ceremonies duty was jointly handled by Bob Arum and Oscar De La Hoya. Arum once promoted De La Hoya. Then De La Hoya went out on his own. Along the way, they have called each other every name in the book -- to be fair, Arum more than De La Hoya -- and have kept several law firms in business. Now, it's all smiles and pats on the back.
Arum, who never met a fight he couldn't spin into a tale of monumental significance, said that this fight would be a success even though, with Pacquiao from the Philippines and Hatton from England, there is no U.S. angle.
"Americans are not xenophobic," Arum proclaimed.
One wonders how that quote will play in France.
Eventually, because it apparently wasn't preventable, Hatton's trainer, Floyd Mayweather Sr., was called to the microphone. He, like Pacquiao's trainer, Freddie Roach, is a former boxer. Each has accepted more than his share of blows to the head over the years, but only Roach admits that.
From the start of this promotion, months ago, they have been verbally battling. Mayweather Sr. likes to call Roach "the joke coach," and Roach likes to remind Mayweather Sr. that he got a head start on Mayweather in training careers because Mayweather was in prison for selling drugs.
What is beyond the borders of good taste elsewhere is standard fare in boxing.
This time, Mayweather Sr. tried some poetry.
"Pac-man, it's over. So stop wishing on that four-leaf clover."
"Ain't no secret. I hope you know. It's Hit Man Hatton by KO."
SOURCE: http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-dwyre-pacquiao30-2009apr30,1,515202.column
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