THEATRE OF THE ABSURD WITH NO PUNCHLINE
McGregor versus Mayweather charade enters final day of disbelief
Manny Pacquiao, a soon-to-be Hall of Fame fighter, a world champion in eight different weight classes, went 12 rounds with Floyd Mayweather and never really touched him in any meaningful way.
Oscar De La Hoya, already in the International Boxing Hall of Fame, a multi-time champion, went 12 rounds with Mayweather and could barely lay a glove of significance on Money Mayweather.
So how is it that UFC’s Conor McGregor, having never boxed professionally before, a true neophyte of the sweet science, has any chance at all against the greatest defensive boxer in modern times.
The truth that won’t sell payper-view buys: he doesn’t.
But that hasn’t seemed to matter in the buildup to Saturday’s giant sell of this hybrid bout of opposite disciplines. The interest has overwhelmed the reality of this fight between a pedigreed pugilist and a tough guy, mixed martial arts champion.
“He may not hit him,” De La Hoya said Thursday, referring to McGregor. Then he was more definitive. “He won’t land a punch.” The lead-up to this multimillion-dollar charade of sorts has been comical and offensive and crude, loud, staged and predictable — all of it depending on your perspective.
Almost all of the noise is intended to create the illusion that McGregor has a chance in the boxing ring to defeat the accomplished Mayweather. All of it is intended to expand the audience from boxing fan to MMA fan to the fan who doesn’t necessarily follow either pursuit regularly.
The selling of the illusion has worked. By how much won’t be determined until the final numbers are in. But it has certainly created buzz and argument and debate, not just about this fight, but about the future of both boxing and UFC, and about who stands to benefit from whatever happens Saturday night and Sunday morning.
This has become far more than an unlikely fight. It has become a platform of opinion, with hundreds of millions in payouts guaranteed for McGregor and Mayweather and more than $70 million already wagered on this one 12-round bout.
The buzz may be more interesting than the fight will be. Press from all over the world have gathered in Las Vegas to cover this fight, giving it far more regard than an event such as this deserves. You can’t take a step anywhere in Las Vegas without bumping into McGregor’s face or Mayweather’s face on some poster, without seeing a T-shirt salesman, a ticket scalper, somebody saying something about this likely mismatch.
This isn’t Muhammad Ali and Antonio Inoki of a lifetime ago, which was an uninteresting farce all its own. That was an exhibition match between a boxer and a professional wrestler. This may be theatre of some kind of absurd, but it is not staged and scripted.
The boxer specializes in hitting or, in Mayweather’s case, in not being hit. The MMA fighter punches, kicks, wrestles, grapples and, when that doesn’t work, he grapples, wrestles, kicks, punches and chokes. We can’t forget chokes.
The skill set to succeed in one sport is completely different than the skill set to compete and succeed in the other.
McGregor is a tough guy and a mean guy and MMA champion of more than consequence. He has broken the mould, stepped out of being just another fighting guy and has become a star.
All of that has made the sale rich: What it doesn’t do is answer the question. Can McGregor box? And at what level can he box? You’re not ready to practise law after a year of law school or be a doctor after one year of medical school. McGregor is a boxer now, but without a degree.
And can he pose any kind of threat at all to a fighter of Mayweather’s resume, even at Mayweather’s advanced age of 40?
The divide here is apparent. The McGregor believers — and they are here in large and loud and young numbers — have no doubt. The boxing realists, not draped in flags, not in beards and McGregor haircuts, see the fight the way Mayweather’s father analyzes it. “It’s a joke,” Floyd Sr. said. And sometimes we pay — in this case about $100 for a payper-view look — to find out if the joke has any kind of punchline.
The McGregor people sell their story hard — that McGregor has more than a puncher’s chance. He’s bigger, tougher, meaner, hungrier. They say he will walk through Mayweather’s punches the way a Joe Frazier or Evander Holyfield has walked through punches on their way to mauling fighters.
They also play the age card: Mayweather is 40. He has to be slower. He has to have lost an edge in two years off. He has to be vulnerable.
McGregor has the larger audience here. The MMA world of his supporters travels to watch him fight. That doesn’t guarantee anything but more sound.
Once again, they’ve made a larger investment. They are part of the show here. They were a large part of a crowd of at least 7,000 fans who made their way to the T-Mobile Arena, new home of the Vegas Golden Knights, to watch McGregor and Mayweather stand on a scale and have their weight announced.
There isn’t much to see at a weigh-in, to be honest. But in our look-at-me, look-where-Iam culture of today, being here somehow mattered on Friday afternoon.
It didn’t matter to most of those in attendance that McGregor has no chance of victory. They believe. They stood and chanted as he walked to the scale with a flag draped over his back, with a headset around his neck, his body full of tattoos. People stood. Cheered. Danced. For one more day they believe.
(McGregor) may not hit (Mayweather). He won’t land a punch. OSCAR DE LA HOYA, 10-time world boxing champion