Anonymity and the Lone Star Streak

Anonymity and the Lone Star streak First, an anecdote. The night before Ghana’s Joshua Clottey fought Miguel Cotto, we took a cab from the BWAA awards dinner to Times Square. The driver was a Ghanaian. When I told him we were in town for Saturday’s big match at Madison Square Garden, he said, “Who’s fighting?” The morning after Clottey lost to Cotto, I went to Central Park in a different Ghanaian’s cab. When I told him I’d stayed up late to cover Saturday’s big match at Madison Square Garden, he said, “Who fought?” Joshua Clottey can bring a violent end to such anonymity Saturday night by beating Manny Pacquiao. The fight happens in Arlington, Tex. That can mean only one thing: Cowboys Stadium – the House that Jerry Built, and the anticipatory roar of 45,000 spectators. A tip of the cap to Mr. Jones and promoter Bob Arum for having a long enough view of things to make it happen. Now let’s treat vulnerability. Pacquiao hasn’t been this vulnerable since the last time he fought in Texas, which was the last time he ran for congress in the Philippines. On Friday, Norm Frauenheim examined Pacquiao’s distracting political aspirations but couldn’t divine a reason for them. Neither can the rest of us. Joshua Clottey is Pacquiao’s least-noteworthy opponent in the 35 months since Pacquiao’s last fight in Texas. Oh, Clottey’s more formidable than David Diaz turned out to be – more formidable than Oscar De La Hoya and Ricky Hatton, too – but not better known. If you were Pacquiao, then, how excited would you be about a guy who lost his last fight to the guy you stopped in November? Well, there’s the stadium. Surely that gets Pacquiao’s attention? Not necessarily. Cowboys Stadium means more to the rest of us, as Americans, than it means to Pacquiao. After all, the Cowboys aren’t “Philippines’ Team” and Pacquiao could draw 45,000 folks to a “Wapakman” DVD release party in Manila. Then how about a chance to preserve his undefeated streak in the Lone Star State? Pacquiao’s 2-0 (2 KOs) in Texas. His first fight was the breakthrough event of his career. In November of 2003, he blitzed Marco Antonio Barrera when many of us thought Barrera was invincible. Still, Pacquiao’s second knockout in Texas is more important to this week’s fight – and not because you missed it. Both Pacquiao’s previous fights in Texas happened at Alamodome, the cavernous venue named after a Catholic mission that hosted a battle 174 years ago last Saturday. Alamodome is a mile east of where this column is now written, which puts it about two miles east of Pico de Gallo restaurant – where Jorge Solis sat anonymously sipping menudo the morning of his fight with Manny Pacquiao on the second Saturday of April 2007. As I recall, Solis looked kinda hopeless 10 hours before he faced Pacquiao. He didn’t look hopeless in the opening rounds, though. Pacquiao was less than himself that night. His trainer Freddie Roach had been in Puerto Rico working with Oscar De La Hoya for “World Awaits” or “Fight to Save Boxing” or whatever it was called. Pacquiao had been in the Philippines campaigning for congress; “Vote for Manny” buttons were all over San Antonio. Team Pacman was out of sync. Then an accidental clash of heads made Pacquiao see his own blood. That did it. Pacquiao went directly through Solis after that. Order was restored. Which returns us to Joshua Clottey. There are only two things to break Clottey’s concentration in a prizefighting ring: Rules infractions, and a belief he’ll win. A head butt, a hip toss, clinching, a low blow – any of these can send Clottey’s mind spiraling away from the matter at his hands. Against Cotto, he reacted theatrically to roughhousing. Then he did some corner-stool calculus, decided he’d won the fight and didn’t do much after the 10th round. Clottey might never get convinced he can win Saturday. But with Pacquiao leaping at him from a southpaw stance, there’s a good chance Clottey’s head is going to get bumped by Pacquiao’s. Cotto tells us how Clottey reacts to such infractions. And Solis tells us how Pacquiao reacts to the sight of his own blood. Does Clottey have the physical toolbox to beat Pacquiao? Sure does. Clottey’s much bigger than Pacquiao. He’s rugged as hell. He starts fast. He outboxed both guys who decisioned him. He’s got good power, good defense and a great chin. Does Clottey have the mental toolbox to beat Pacquiao? Doubtful. You have to think Pacquiao’s promoter Top Rank knows this. They might have been scrambling after the Mayweather fight fell through; they knew Pacquiao in Cowboys Stadium was an idea not to be squandered. But there’s exactly no chance they would risk boxing’s one globally transcendent commodity in a fight they thought he might lose. They had Cotto pegged, didn’t they? We know what Clottey is. We know what Pacquiao is. Pacquiao could possibly lose to Clottey – en route to winning a congressional seat in the Philippines – but Clottey is not going to beat Pacquiao. At least, I don’t think he is. Besides, whatever I know about Clottey or Pacquiao, I don’t know nearly enough about Cowboys Stadium. Can’t wait to see it. Can’t wait for the moment the lights dim before the main event and the fighters begin their ringwalks. The electricity of those four or five minutes is the one part of a prizefight television will never adequately capture. After that, Pacquiao will hit Clottey with a variety of unexpected punches. Clottey will block many more. Pacquiao will do enough to win most rounds. Clottey will do enough to believe he won most rounds. Or maybe something unexpected will happen. I’d love to see Clottey become famous. I’d love to see Pacquiao tested. I believe these things could happen or I wouldn’t go to Dallas. But I sure don’t expect them to happen. I’ll take Pacquiao: UD-12. Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter.com/bartbarry Photo by Chris Farina / Top Rank.

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