THE RA
evaluating money
I
t had been 14 years since I was last in Sin City but if
my, admittedly, beer fuelled senses could be trusted then
the old place didn’t appear to have changed very much.
I was in Vegas with a small contingent of friends, accordingly dubbed the ‘Brit Pack’, in order that we may
bear witness to the curiously conservative phenomenon
that is Floyd Mayweather Jr.
As the mandatory limo ferried us to Sinatra’s old haunt,
the Riviera Hotel, the adrenaline and expectation made
us all forget that it was 4am back in London. You don’t
waste your first night in the storied Mecca of chance by
going to bed early, so after a brisk check in and cursory
shower, the Brit Pack hit the town. I could elaborate on
that first evening in down town Vegas with amusing anecdotes of the topless dancing taxi driver or Gay Jim and
the ‘Blaxican’ but none of these tales have anything to
do with boxing and I presume it is boxing that you are
chiefly interested in so let’s proceed to the weigh in. The
modern ‘super fight ‘ weigh in is an increasingly drawn
out procedure, attended by many thousands, much of
whom don’t actually go to the fight itself.
We were largely bored throughout the unreasonably
long performance of a Latino pop star, unknown to us
but duly appreciated by a screaming gaggle of young
Hispanic girls in our midst. The gangsta rap of Rick
Ross seemed decidedly more congruous with the
Money Team swagger and the screaming girls were
suddenly replaced by Afro American males making
obligatory hand gestures while free T-Shirts bearing the
TBE logo were shot into the crowd by bizarre hand held
cannons.
Surrounded by such extravagant frippery, I couldn’t help
but imagine the era when Joe Louis and Max Schmeling
would smile wanly and shake hands before going off to
eat a steak.
4 BRAWL SPORTS DECEMBER 2014
We can blame a young Cassius Clay for turning what
used to be an entirely functional affair into a platform
for hype and histrionics but with The Greatest the
show was always organic, with no need for anodyne
pop singers. The glaring irony is that Lil’ Floyd feels no
burden of obligation to entertain the masses when the
bell rings.
Oddly, one member of our retinue was seated in a
noisy pro Madiana section and was convinced that the
Argentine had won as the crowd booed Mayweather's
fleet footed refusal to engage in the twelfth and final
round. For the record, the judges at ringside turned in
cards of 116-111 (twice) and 115-112, all in favour of
the Michigan prodigy whose ledger now stands at 47-0.
If the fight didn't exactly get our pulses racing then our
exit from the MGM Grand Garden certainly provided
some unsanctioned thrills as we were caught in a stampede when attempting to leave the venue.
In the heat of the moment, my mind shot back to the
similar melee in the same arena after the infamous
Tyson - Holyfield rematch. Amid varying rumours that
somebody had been shot or there was a bomb in ѡ