After processing the diabolical judging of Manny Pacquiao V Jeff Horn, I was ready to pull a Howard Cosell on boxing's wretched ass.
On November 26, 1982, the great Cosell lost his mind watching Larry Holmes play pinball on the head of Randall “Tex” Cobb for 15 totally unnecessary rounds. It was so bad, that that fight is partially responsible for fights being changed to 12 rounds. Openly disgusted on live air at the non-stoppage, Cosell quit boxing that night and never called a fight again.
Seeing Pacquiao get robbed of his WBO welterweight belt by an Australian Brink's truck on ESPN sponsored by Top Rank, flashed the ghost of Muhammad Ali's legendary sidekick. Like Cobb, Horn, by comparison, had very little experience relative to that of Pacquiao; at least Cobb had stopped the murderous punching Earnie Shavers and lost a split decision to Ken Norton. What the fuck has Horn ever done to justify the miscarriage of justice that took place in Brisbane, Australia?
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Oh wait, I get it.
He's immensely popular prior to fighting Pacquiao in a nation picked as a new hotbed for fistic and fiscal exploitation. He's younger and marketable. And actually, he's exciting and beyond brave in the ring. Completely ripe for someone like Pacquiao to be used as the cruelest stepping stone, only to be set up as canon fodder for a killer like say IBF welterweight champion Errol Spence.
But the bullshit detector completely blew up when that absolutely ridiculous verdict was announced. Whoever the asshole was who scored that fight 117-111 in favor of Horn, needs Lasik surgery and mega doses of Adderall.
For those of us who actually know how to score a fight, we know Pacquiao totally defended his WBO welterweight championship with solid ring generalship to blunt Horn's ineffective and crude aggression. Manny won eight rounds on my scorecard, punctuating a gritty effort by damn near maiming Horn in the ninth.
In Horn, Pac-Man dealt with a Rugby player version of Mauricio Herrera on acid, and a referee fresh off Australia rules football. It was amateur night, bush league and a circus similar to the carnival currently being played out in Washington.
Fucking shameful.
With that said, let's get to some hard truth. Pac won this fight pretty clearly, however, it's also pretty clear that he's maxed himself as a fighter. And what a fighter he was.
This is a guy whose father actually ate his dog before he turned pro as a starving and destitute Filipino far from icon. A dog he loved as much as he loves his country right now. He never reminded me of someone who forgot that while putting together a Tasmanian Houdini act to the tune of eight world championships in eight divisions.
No one will ever do that again.
In the same respect, if I was Pacquiao, I'd go Marvelous Marvin Hagler after Sugar Ray Leonard and just never fight again. He was robbed in the first Timothy Bradley fight for political reasons, and no one will ever convince me that there was no foul play behind-the-scenes with Juan Manuel Marquez in chapter IV.
You can reference a Kevin Iole piece if you like just prior to December 8, 2012 for clarity; and see Thomas Hauser's work concerning great suspicion of a dirty Floyd Mayweather prior to May 2, 2015. There's nothing more Manny Pacquiao can do or sacrifice for boxing and he'll never be confused with craven.
Enough is enough.
If enthusiasm is common, then endurance is rare. Pacquiao has been a labor of excitement in such a cinematic way, but now his movie has run too long. The character has gotten older, and Senator turned Congressman Manny Pacquiao is now a caricature of himself in the ring. His great wife, Jinkee, who was with him when he was nothing, just doesn't deserve this anymore.
Don't get me wrong he's still great– but a vintage Pacquiao fights Horn's fire with that of a dragon's, most likely dousing “The Hornet” in maybe 6 or 7 brutal rounds. This Pacquiao had to go through a nest head first and bleed while conceding to the ravages of time.
It's time.