Inquirer takes a look inside the Mayweather gym
LAS VEGAS—It’s odd to find a boxing gym near Las Vegas’ Chinatown district, far from the bright lights of the casino-dotted Strip this gambling center is known for.
Odder even when you consider the gym’s owner is a flamboyant boxer named Floyd Mayweather Jr., who happens to be one of the best boxers of this era.
The megafight between Mayweather and Filipino rival Manny Pacquiao is just 9 days away and one would expect the gym to be full of activity—inside and out. But it is nearly 10 in the morning on Wednesday and the huge parking lot serving the heavily tinted gym and other businesses is nearly empty, a picture of dreariness interrupted by the sight of a few cars and orange cones.
There are no posters, even, announcing the fight.
Too early for the king
An hour later, a couple, who came from South Africa, hesitantly walk toward the gym before realizing that it was still closed.
“We came here all the way from South Africa to see Floyd Mayweather, see his gym, see where the legend is made, where he works out and perfects his skills,” says Valdi, who is with his wife. “We’re Mayweather fans even back in the day.”
“Floyd Mayweather [will win]. Manny Pacquiao is a fantastic fighter but you fight against Floyd Mayweather, he makes anyone look ordinary,” Valdi adds.
Unfortunately for the two, they are too early to catch a glimpse of the pound-for-pound king.
$30 each shirt
An hour later, a white Toyota sedan parks near the front of the gym. A hulking man steps out and starts shouting, “Mayweather-Pacquiao shirts!”
Nate Jones, a trainer, is part of the larger conglomerate of Mayweather’s Money Team and he sells shirts, piled up at the trunk of his car, for $30 each.
“Hey, I know you’re a Mayweather-Pacquiao fan. Come over here. I got shirts for $30 dollars. They sell for $60 outside,” Jones shouts at a man taking pictures of the gym. The man takes a look and buys one.
“I’m part of the Money Team and I train a couple fighters. I can get you inside the gym,” Jones tells the man, who tells him he is a reporter from the Philippines.
No cell phones, please
A couple of minutes past noon the gym opens. Inside, the first thing that catches one’s attention is a Ms Pacman arcade game over at the left side of the entrance. Pacman, of course, is Pacquiao’s nickname.
Another door leads to the gym where framed posters of Mayweather’s big fights, includ- ing the official fight poster of the May 2 (May 3 in Manila) showdown with Pacquiao, hang on the walls.
Plastered on the door is a sign reminding everyone not part of The Money Team that the gym closes at 2:30 p.m. and another important advisory that must be strictly followed: No cell phones and cameras allowed while Mayweather is training.
Love is also here
A couple of hours before lockdown, the sound of a boxer’s gloves smashing into a trainer’s mitts overpowers the thumping of hip-hop music blaring from the speakers.
J’Leone Love, the WBA International super middleweight champion, is training. Love is one of the many boxers signed by Mayweather Promotions.
“I’ve been training with Floyd for over three years now. I was once his sparring partner and then he signed me. I train alongside him, I run with him, everything,” says Love, who can easily be mistaken for former longtime middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins with his facial features and the way he boxes.
Love is just one of the many boxers training today. British champion boxer Chris “The Flash” Evangelou, who traces his roots to Greece, is another.
Hope for big upset
Evangelou, who also happens to be a good friend of Love, isn’t part of Mayweather’s team but has been sparring for a week as he prepares to get back in the ring and continue his pursuit of a world title.
Evangelou may be training inside Mayweather’s gym. But he is also a Pacquiao fan.
“I always have a soft spot for Manny Pacquiao. He’s a bornagain Christian and I just love what he does in the world. It would be amazing to see a big upset,” says the 29-year-old welterweight.
Not long after, Mayweather’s outspoken father and trainer Floyd Sr. appears, but he is not in the mood for any interviews. The uncle, Roger, keeps a frown and he, too, appears to have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.
Knockout in 6
The room is crowded but around 2 p.m., the air-conditioning is turned off and the music stops. A brawny man in a Money Team tank top signals the end of training—also an indication that Mayweather is about to come.
“Everyone not part of The Money Team, time to get the f*** out. The gym will be closing,” he shouts.
People peel off in groups and exit from the gym. Outside, the once empty lot is filled with mostly luxury cars and people start to gather—all waiting for the champ to arrive.
Vinny Connor, who came from Manchester, England, just to catch Mayweather training, has the welterweight champion’s logo, “TMT,” inked on his right calf and the pound-for-pound king’s autograph on his right arm.
“You might be surprised but I see Mayweather knocking out Pacquiao in six rounds,” he says.
In a Rolls Royce
Tom Diana, who lives nearby, has brought with him a giant glove and a painting of Mayweather done by his friend from Pennsylvania in the hope of getting both signed.
Mexican artist Mauricio Torrescano also waits for the fivedivision champion while carrying a heavy framed sculpture made of clay picturing Mayweather and Pacquiao side-byside.
Two hours later, Mayweather, driving one of his many expensive cars, a grey Rolls Royce Phantom, pulls up in front of his gym and alights. A man shouts, “What’s up, Floyd?”
Mayweather turns his head and flashes a peace sign. Surrounded by his hefty security staff, he disappears into thin air, into the gym—and into the final stretch of his preparations for the fight with the champion from the Philippines.