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Articles of 2009

The End of BRUTE: He Was Like A Bobblehead In There

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Derek, who was as happy as any of us that Stan had won, put his hands in his pockets. “Get a picture of Stan winning,” he said, “’cause that’s what he just did.”

Those who had cameras held them up and took a few pictures of Stan as he paced around the canvas. He looked nervous, as if entrusting the judges with his fate had been a potentially fatal oversight, and now he was wandering in a daze, wondering how he could have gotten the knockout. Stan’s father climbed through the ropes and put a hand on his son’s shoulder, which seemed to calm Stan down. Then the referee took Jett by the wrist, and leading him like a shy child, walked up to Martyniouk. When he had ahold of both fighters he turned to Jett and said something. Jett nodded.

Behind them the announcer leaned over the ropes, keeping one hand on his back either because it was sore, or to keep his shirt tucked in beneath his jacket. The head judge handed up the scorecard, and when the announcer turned so that he was facing us again, he was smiling broadly. “After four rounds of boxing in the lightweight division,” he began, holding the microphone with its wireless tail pointed to the sky. But someone interrupted him.

“There was nothing lightweight about it!” The anonymous voice, which issued from somewhere near the bar, was clear above the rest of the noise in the room, and inspired a healthy laugh.

“After four rounds of boxing,” the announcer repeated, “we go to the judges' scorecards. All three judges score the bout 40-36,” said the announcer, “for the winner, by unanimous decision, Stan 'The Man' Martyniouk.”

The crowd around me relaxed and then applauded. Mehrad seemed to have borne the anticipation of the judgment poorly too, because he was letting out a long breath when I looked over at him. He didn't smile until Gerrell slapped him on the shoulder.

“There ain't nothing to worry about,” said Gerrell.

The clergy were vacating the ring. Therefore the savior, having vanquished the devil a third time, had already walked down the mountain—rather than trusting the angels to catch him. I left the White Tigers to look for him in the dressing room. At the exit from the ballroom I showed the security guard the wristband I'd been issued when I turned in my ticket. It was not a unique bracelet from what the other patrons wore, but I must have showed it with sufficient confidence because the guard only nodded as I passed. I walked through the hallway, which during more conventional events allowed the servers to move between the kitchen and the event they were catering. Now it was filled with friends of the fighters. I passed Gilbert who was leaning against the wall talking with Niavaroni. I must have looked as though I didn't know where I was going, because Gilbert nodded to me and asked, “Are you looking for Stan?”

He clearly recognized me from the gym. “Yes,” I said. At the last fight I'd entered by some other hall, and didn't now know where I was in relation to the boxer's quarters. Like Mobutu's Stadium outside of Kinshasa, the Red Lion was not built with boxing in mind and there was always the possibility that the location had changed.

“He's in the main dressing room, which is just down this hall to the left.”

I thanked him and went on. When I found it, I stood at the threshold with my pad, trying to appear casual. Stan stood with his back partially turned to me. A man I did not recognize was helping him off with his gloves. When they'd been removed and laid on the dressing table, which was bare except for a bottle of water, the man cut the tape. I walked around so that Stan could see me, and he raised his chin in greeting. His face was swollen on the pommes of both cheeks. Below his right eye the skin looked abraded.

To my right, before I had the chance to ask Stan anything, Mike Simms and Urijah Faber came in together. Stan looked honored to see them, and reached out his left hand—he was holding his right gingerly, I noticed—to shake hands with Urijah.

“He was like a bobblehead in there,” said Urijah of Jett. Stan looked down demurely.

The doctor came into the room and put down a small medical bag on the dressing table. He went up to Stan and took his face in his hands and looked into his eyes. “How'd you feel in there, kid?” the doctor asked.

“I felt fine,” said Stan.

“If you'd have thrown a combo and then pivoted,” said Mike Simms, apparently thinking about how Stan could have achieved the knockout. 

“Yeah,” said Stan.

The doctor passed his index finger back in forth before Stan's face, and Stan followed it with his eyes. Then the doctor took out a small flashlight and looked into Stan's pupils.

“I don't think I took very many punches,” Stan said.

The doctor opened Stan's mouth and felt first the upper and then the lower row for loose teeth. They had all, it seemed, remained rooted, and when the doctor was satisfied of this he gave Stan two approving taps on the cheek with his four gloved fingers and said, “You look okay, kid.” He put the light into his bag, closed it, and saluted Urijah and Simms as he left.

During the examination another man had come into the room. He was standing apart from everyone holding a magazine in one hand. Urijah either recognized him, or had observed his species before, because without saying anything he went up and shook the man's hand.

“It's so good to meet you,” the man said. “I didn't want to really bother you, but I was hoping you would sign this for me.” He held up the magazine on whose cover was a very fit Urijah Faber, wet with sweat, and lit so dynamically so that the lines separating the muscles in his stomach were like the seams in an overstuffed quilt. Urijah took the magazine humbly and signed it with a pen the man provided. 

Simms was in front of Stan, now, with his hands up. “Gotta throw that double jab,” he was saying. “Even a lesser fighter can counter that single.”  If Jett had countered Stan's single, I hadn't seen it. Simms, it seemed, was recalling the advice he'd given himself after his fight in May. That win, he must have felt, was a gift from the local officials. Two months later the win remained an incomplete victory.

Stan could see that I was hoping to talk to him before he returned to the ballroom, so when he had a moment's break from Simms he nodded to me and told me that he needed to go wash his face. On his way to the restroom or the kitchen—I don't know where the fighters were scheduled to rinse themselves off—he passed Faber. The man with the magazine had gotten his autograph but was now explaining his theory on how Faber could have knocked out Jens Pulver during their recent title collision. Faber had been listening patiently but took Stan's passing as an opportunity to extricate himself from the conversation.

“Good to see you, man,” said Faber, shaking Stan's hand again. Then he apologized to the autographee for having to get back into the ballroom, and followed Stan into the hall. The abandoned man now looked a little embarrassed to have waylaid Faber, and left without saying a word to any of us. As he went, though, Nasser Niavaroni entered the room. He was looking past me to the rear corner of the room where I had somehow failed to notice Brandon Gonzales shadowboxing. Gonzales raised a glove to Niavaroni without stopping his feet. 

“This thing's gonna go as many rounds as we let it,” Niavaroni said to Gonzales, meaning that the newest fight underway was in little danger of producing a knockout. I didn't feel, therefore, that I was missing anything important waiting in the dressing room. “They'll come in and tell you when the last rounds starts,” Niavaroni added, and Gonzales nodded.

I thought Niavaroni would leave without really acknowledging me. But he took off his hat, ran a hand over his head as if relieved, and said, “How you doing, bud?” before replacing his hat.

“Should've been an eight count in the first,” I said, proud that I had that comment at the ready.

“Well,” said Niavaroni, “it wouldn't have changed anything.”

Simms was now speaking to a security guard with a tremendous stomach and an even more impressive belt encircling it. “Yeah,” Simms was saying. “His brother trains Manny Pacquiao.” I didn't hear whose brother this was. If he were somewhere in the building I should have liked to talk to him. But before I could ask Simms, to whom I hadn't yet said a word, Stan returned. It was clear, now, that Niavaroni had stayed to speak with Stan, because as Stan came into the room, Niavaroni put his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“Don't get down on yourself that you didn't knock him out,” Niavaroni said.

“I just thought that I had him,” Stan said, his head down as when he spoke with his father in the ring. “In the first I had him hurt, and then in the second it was only the ropes keeping him up. Same thing in the third and the fourth.”

“Don't you be hard on yourself, bud,” Niavaroni said. “He's a journeyman. That guy had fifteen professional fights. You beat the hell out of him. You've got nothing to feel sorry about.”

Stan looked up and smiled sheepishly. Niavaroni patted him on the back and told Gonzales, jokingly I assumed, to go easy on his man. Gonzales kept dancing and throwing punches, and Niavaroni went into the hall. I wanted to conduct and conclude the interview as quickly as possible, less because I was excited to get back to see the semi-final, and more because I feel that a formal interview eliminates spontaneity, and spontaneity, especially when coupled with intelligence or extreme ignorance, is what makes for an interesting conversation. 

There are few athletes who are interesting to listen to when discussing themselves. They are coached, I think, to be humble and self-effacing. Most don't want to get portrayed gloating. They try to give credit where it is not necessarily due. Perhaps it is somewhat different in boxing, where first there was Jack Johnson, then Muhammad Ali, and ultimately Mike Tyson to name three in chronological order, all of whom danced on graves: Johnson because he was the first American black man who'd figured out how to deride a white man in public; Ali because he was the second; Tyson because he had only graves to dance on. But it is rare to hear a young athlete, whether he tries to kill people for a living or not, say anything worth taking notes about. I would much rather listen to a braggart unworthy of his self-praise remind me that he is the second coming of Christ than suffer the false modesty of a fine young fighter, having just beheaded an old fraud, explaining what a challenge the gentleman with three times as man losses as wins had posed. Stan, I feared, was going to situate himself in the latter category. This is the most petty of complaints, I know. If humility is the norm, and conceit the exception, I guess I should be proud of international sporting courtesy, rather than be as I am, which is bored with it. But let’s not forget that indigenous Costa Ricans worship the Resplendent Quetzal, and not the Sooty Shearwater.

“Would you like to talk here?” Stan asked.

“That would be fine,” I said, and turned on my recorder. As I put it down on the table, Stan's father came into the room carrying a small duffle bag and set beside my recorder. 

“What you need is in there,” he said. “I will take you home after this.”

“After the fight,” said Stan.

“Yes, after the fights,” his father said before turning to go. But he stopped and added, “It is the right wrist?”

“I'll be a few minutes, here,” said Stan, taking a wrist brace from the bag.

“Did you hurt your wrist?” I asked.

“It's an old injury,” he said, smiling.

What else, I wondered then, was there to ask him? Jacob Barnes had a similar crisis when he and Bill Gorton stood in Pedro Romero's dressing room before that first bullfight in Pamplona. Then, though, they hadn’t yet seen Romero fight, and perhaps Jake would have had a great deal more to ask in the dressing room after. Yet he found Romero three nights later at the Café Irruña, and they spoke only of a fight in Madrid. Therefore, as a sort of ineffectual journalist less concerned with the dissemination of information than the examination and presentation of a scene, I can say that there was not much to ask him. Stan was 23, alone except for his father, and the hangers-on in the ballroom, and he had just won his third professional fight. I suppose I could have asked him if he felt the match-up had been fair to Terrance Jett. The resignation Stan had articulated by hanging his head in front of Niavaroni was no doubt born in his failure to knock Jett out. But as we stood in the dressing room, his resignation—he was smiling only with his eyes—was living, perhaps, in his recognition that Jett had been chosen to feed Stan’s record. It's not that Jett hadn't fought as well as he could; it's simply that he could not fight that well, and had flown up to Sacramento from Vegas as the bull is trucked to Madrid from Andalucía. Stan had prepared him for the kill, had placed the sword high between the shoulders, but the blade, after eight charges, had not penetrated. As the assistant matador must sometimes sever the spine with the short knife, it was the judges who had finished Jett. This made the ordeal no more a contest or any less a tragedy. But it had still been a fine thing to see.

Articles of 2009

UFC 108 Rashad Evans vs. Thiago Silva

David A. Avila

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Former champion Rashad Evans meets Brazil’s venerable Thiago Silva in a non-title belt that can lead to a return match with the current champ, but first things first.

Evans (15-1-1) and Silva (14-1) meet in Ultimate Fighting Championship 108 in a light heavyweight bout on Saturday Jan. 2, at the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. A win by either fighter could result in a world title bid. The fight card is being shown on pay-per-view television.

Events can change quickly in the Octagon and anybody can beat anybody in the 205-pound weight division. Just ask Silva or Evans.

Silva and Evans are both experienced and can vouch firsthand about the capriciousness of fighting in MMA and especially as a light heavyweight. On one day this man can beat that man and on another day, that man can beat this man. It can make you absolutely daffy.

Evans, 30, is the former UFC light heavyweight world champion who only defended his title on one occasion and lost by vicious knockout to current champion Lyoto Machida of Brazil. It’s the only defeat on his record.

Silva, 27, is a well-rounded MMA fighter from Sao Paolo, Brazil who is versed in jujitsu, Muy Thai and boxing. He can end a fight quickly in a choke hold just as easily as with a kick or a punch. His only loss came to who else: Machida.

Evans and Silva know a win can push open the door to a rematch with current UFC light heavyweight champion Machida.

“A win against Rashad would put me in the track against Lyoto,” said Silva, in a telephone conference call. “That's what – what I want to do.”

When Silva fought Machida the two Brazilians were both undefeated and feared in the MMA world. The fight took place in Las Vegas and with one second remaining in the first round a perfectly timed punch knocked Silva unconscious.

“I was humbled big time, man,” says Silva who fought Machida in January 2009. “I learned a lot from that fight.  I think I can correct the mistakes from that fight, not overlooking anything else right now, but just I want to get the chance to fight him again.”

For Evans it was a different circumstance. The upstate New Yorker held the UFC title and was defending it after stopping then champion Forrest Griffin by knockout. Still, many felt Machida was far too technically versed. Evans was stopped brutally in the second round.

“I've made it a point to not – to not get distracted on what I want to do, because you know Thiago (Silva) is a very hungry fighter,” said Evans who has not fought since losing the title to Machida last May. “My focus is just on Thiago so much.  You know I don't want to overlook him, you know, not even a little bit.”

Dana White, president of UFC, says the winner of this fight could conceivably fight Machida in the near future. Evans and especially Silva are motivated by the open window.

“I learned a lot from that fight. I think I can correct the mistakes from that fight,” says Silva. “Not overlooking anything else right now, but I just want to get the chance to fight him again.”

What a prize. The winner gets to face the man who beat him: Machida.

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Articles of 2009

No One Is Leaving This Stage Of Negotiations Looking GOLDEN

George Kimball

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Early in his political career, the young Lyndon Baines Johnson served as a congressional aide to Rep. Richard Kleberg, the wealthy owner of the King Ranch who was elected to seven consecutive terms in the House of Representatives, at least in part because he often ran unopposed.

One year an upstart rival politician we'll call Joe Bob had the temerity to challenge Kleberg in the Democratic primary, resulting in the convocation of the Texas congressman's staff to plot an election strategy. Several ideas were kicked around before Kleberg himself came up with a brainstorm.

“Why don't we start a rumor that he [copulates with] sheep?” proposed the politician.

This was a bit over the top, even for Lyndon Johnson. The future president leapt to his feet and said, incredulously, “But you know Joe Bob don't [copulate with] sheep!”

“Yeah,” replied the congressman, “but watch what happens when the son of a bitch has to stand up and deny it!”

******

Events of the past week or two have seen the Floyd Mayweather camp adopt a similar tactic with regard to Manny Pacquiao.  But if introducing what would appear to be a red-herring issue — the debate over drug-testing procedures — to the negotiating process was intended as a negotiating ploy, it would appear for the moment to have backfired.  The idea might have been to force Pacquiao to go on the defensive, but Pac-Man instead responded with his stock in trade, the counterpunch — in this case the multi-million dollar defamation suit he filed against the Mayweathers, pere et fils,, with the U.S. District Court in Las Vegas on Wednesday.

In boxing even more than in life, you never say never, but you'd have to say that Pacquiao-Mayweather is a dead issue right now, at least in its March 13 incarnation. Bob Arum says Pacquiao is prepared to move along to another opponent, and Mayweather is supposedly looking at Matthew Hatton in England.

We'll believe that when we see it, for at least three reasons: (1) There would hardly seem to be enough money in that one to make it worth Floyd's time, (2) He's going to have to put so much into preparing a defense to this lawsuit that he mightn't have time to train and (3) He'd get a better workout if he stayed in Vegas and boxed one of Uncle Roger's girl opponents.

*****

Colleagues on this site have already done a good job of dissecting this process. Ron Borges is absolutely correct in noting that in the midst of all the posturing that's gone on, you'd be a fool to accept at face value anything coming out of any of the parties' mouths. And Frank Lotierzo is spot on in noting that if you had absolutely no desire to actually get in the ring with Manny Pacquiao but were still looking to save face, you'd do pretty much exactly what Mayweather has done. Which is to say, talk tough while you get others to run interference with a series of actions seemingly calculated to ensure that the fight doesn't come off.

But left almost unscathed in all of this heretofore has been the convoluted role played by Golden Boy — by CEO Richard Schaefer, by the company's namesake Oscar the Blogger, GBP's subsidiary enterprise, The Ring, and at least a few of the lap-dogs and lackeys whose favor GPB has cultivated elsewhere in the media.

In late March of 2008, Shane Mosley and Zab Judah appeared at a New York press conference to announce a fight between them in Las Vegas two months later. As it happened, the BALCO trial had gotten underway out in California that week. That day I sat with Judah and his attorney Richard Shinefield as they explained that they intended to ask that both boxers agree to blood testing in the runup to the fight. Citing Mosley's history with BALCO and its products The Cream and The Clear (which Shane claimed Victor Conte had slipped him when he wasn't looking), Shinefield and Zab, noting that Nevada drug tests were limited to urinalysis, proposed that the supplementary tests be administered by the World Anti-Doping Agency.

Want to know what Richard Schaefer's response to that was?

“Whatever tests [the NSAC] wants them to take, we will submit to, but we are not going to do other tests than the Nevada commission requires,” said Schaefer. “The fact is, Shane is not a cheater and he does not need to be treated like one.”

But the fact is that Mosley had a confirmed history as a cheater. Manny Pacquiao does not. Yet in the absence of a scintilla of evidence or probable cause, less than two years later Schaefer was howling that the very integrity of the sport would be at risk unless Pacquiao submitted to precisely the same sort of testing he had rejected for Mosley.

And you thought it was Arum who was famous for saying “Yeah, but yesterday I was lying. Today I'm telling the truth!”

Schaefer, by the way, defended his 180-degree turnabout by saying he is now better educated on the issue. He couldn't resist aiming a harpoon at the media by adding that many sportswriters “don't know the difference between blood and urine testing.”

Don't know how to break this to you, Richard, but sportswriters, who have had to deal with this stuff for the past twenty years, probably know more about drug-testing procedures than any other group you could name.

*****

Now, the reasonable assumption would be that by assuming the role of the point man in this unseemly mess, Schaefer was insulating his boss (De La Hoya) and his fighter (PBF) by keeping their fingerprints off it while he made a fool of himself publicly conducting this snide little campaign.  

And yes, Money would have stayed out of the line of fire had not a two-month old, expletive-filled rant in which he described the Philippines as the world's foremost producer of performance-enhancing drugs not exploded on the internet at the most inopportune moment. That the lawsuit was filed less than 24 hours after “Floyd Meets the Rugged Man” overtook the Tiger Watch probably wasn't a coincidence.

And we're assuming that this Dan Petrocelli, the lawyer who filed Pacquiao's suit, knows what he's doing, because if there were an even one-zillionth chance that somebody could credibly link Manny to PEDs, then it was a pretty dumb thing to do. You could ask Roger Clemens about that.  Clemens' transformation from Hall of Famer-in-waiting to nationwide laughingstock didn't come from the Mitchell Report. It came from his wrongheaded decision to file a lawsuit against Brian McNamee, which in turn threw everything open to the discovery process.

*****

De La Hoya, in the meantime, was playing both sides of the fence. He let Schaefer play Bad Cop as he distanced himself from the negotiating process, but simultaneously was sniping away at Pacquiao from his First Amendment-protected perch as a Ring.com blogger.

“If Pacquiao, the toughest guy on the planet, is afraid of needles and having a few tablespoons of blood drawn from his system, then something is wrong…  I'm just saying that now people have to wonder: 'Why doesn't he want to do this?' Why is [blood testing] such a big deal?' wrote Oscar the Blogger. “A lot of eyebrows have been raised. And this is not good.”

Ask yourself this: Exactly what caused those eyebrows to be raised, other than the innuendo coming straight from Oscar's company?

Providing De La Hoya with a forum from which to dispense propaganda  only begins to illustrate the hopelessly compromised position from which The Ring continues to operate. They might as well give Schaefer a column, too, while they're at it.

Nearly seven months have elapsed since we last visited the Ring/Golden Boy relationship, and at the risk of winding Nigel up, it might be useful here to note that in the midst of last June's discourse, The Ring's editor offered a laundry list of the magazine's covers since the De La Hoya takeover as a demonstration of Golden Boy's restraint.

After listing them, Nigel Collins wrote “that's 28 covers over the course of 21 issues, of which Top Rank had 12 fighters, as opposed to eight for Golden Boy and eight for other promotional entities. Obviously, The Ring has shown no bias to Golden Boy when it comes to magazine covers.”

It had never even been suggested that the conflict of interest extended to the magazine playing favorites in choosing its cover subjects, but since Nigel brought it up it is probably worth noting now that of those eight covers given over to “other promotional entities,” two were of David Haye, whose promoter was properly listed as “Hayemaker,” but who had also signed a promotional deal with Golden Boy in May of 2008. (Just last month GBP issued a release in De La Hoya's name in which it described itself as “Golden Boy Promotions, the United States promoter of World Boxing Association Heavyweight World Champion David Haye.”)

And even more to the point, in four other issues Nigel Collins offered in evidence the cover subject was Floyd Mayweather (Independent), although what has transpired with regard to the Pacquiao fight doesn't make Money look very independent at all, does it?

We don't regularly keep track of these things, but in making sure we didn't misquote  Oscar's Blog we also came across a representation of the January 2010 issue on The Ring's website.  The picture on the cover of the Bible of Boxing is of the Golden Boy himself, and the cover story “De La Hoya: The Retirement Interview.”

Wow! Now there's a hot topic for crusading journalists.

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Articles of 2009

Paul Malignaggi Explains Why He Thinks Manny Has Used PEDs

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In theory and in practice I am vehemently opposed to people tossing out unfounded allegations against someone. Supply evidence, then we can talk. But saying someone is using steroids, or EPO, or HGH, based on a theory, or your gut instinct….I have to consider, what if the allegation were thrown at me, and I was 100% innocent. I'd be mightily irked. And so too would you be.

Manny Pacquaio has been hammered from all sides with folks insinuating and coming right out with the contention that they think he's been cheating, that he's been using illegal performance enhancers to give him an edge in competition. Floyd Mayweather Sr, Paulie Malignaggi, Miguel Cotto and Kermit Cintron have either accused Manny, or insinuated that he's been using PEDs. One has to wonder, where's all this smoke coming from? Is it possible that there's fire lurking? That these folks aren't just lobbing unfounded barbs at Manny, that their allegations and hints aren't just sour grapes, or posturing, or a ploy to lure Manny into a fight?

By and large, there hasn't been much in the way of coverage from the standpoint of: what if Manny is using PEDs, or was using PEDs? I think that is rightly so; I'd be more comfortable if none of us trafficked in the innuendo and speculation, and worked within the realm of evidence, and facts. But it's out there, and a topic of conversation and speculation. Perhaps it's a symptom and sign of the times we live in…

TSS reached out to Malignaggi, just off a solid win in his Dec. 12 rematch with Juan Diaz. The Brooklyn-based pugilist has never been shy about speaking his peace (I picture him exiting his mom's womb and barking at the labor and delivery crew to get the room cleaned up, stat!), and he shared with TSS what he bases his allegations, which he's careful to label opinion, upon.

First off, Malignaggi is of the belief that if the Pacquiao-Mayweather negotiations are at a fatal impasse, Yuri Foreman, and not he, will get the coveted date with Pacquiao. Malignaggi has been mentioned as stand-in for Mayweather.

He started off by insisting that ” I have nothing against Pacquiao” but then went from mellow to madman in a 30 second span.

First off, the boxer wonders why Team Pacquiao isn't going after big-time newspapers, with deep pocketed owners, for libel, for insinuating that Pacquiao is drug cheat.

“If Pacquiao's so sue happy, why not sue the New York Daily News?” he asked. “Maybe they know the steroid allegations are true.”

By and large, Malignaggi thinks it is impossible, utterly impossible, for a boxer to put on 15 or more pounds between March 15, 2008, when he fought Juan Manuel Marquez and weighed 129 pounds at the weigh in, and Nov. 14, 2009 when he fought Miguel Cotto and was 144 pounds at the weigh in, and more on fight night.

“It's not natural looking,” Malignaggi said. But, I countered, what if Manny's supremely blessed, that unlike some other fighters who go up in weight, and look a bit bloated, and lack definition, he's just a special creature?

“He's not supremely blessed,” Maliganngi said. “I know body builders. They can't put on 17 or whatever pounds of muscle in a year. It's not doable, in my opinion. These are my speculations, my opinions based on certain factual evidence. Does his weight gain look normal to you? And his head looks like it has blown up in size, too.”

I offered to Malignaggi that perhaps we should be attacking the system, if we believe it to be lacking, rather than the individual.

“We can blame the system a little bit, but if you were Manny, wouldn't you want to leave no doubt? Or speculation?” said Maliganngi, who believes that by not agreeing to the terms set forth by Team Mayweather, and opposing a blood test within 30 days of the bout, Pacquaio appears guilty.

Pacquiao has agreed to take 3 blood tests: the first during the week of the kickoff news conference in early January, the second random test to be conducted no later than 30 days before the fight, and a final test after the bout. A video making the rounds from the HBO 24/7 series shows Pacquiao submitting to a blood test two or three weeks before he was due to fight Ricky Hatton, and that has cast doubt on Team Pacquiao's stance that Manny is disinclined to get a blood test too close to a bout, for fear he may be weakened. Originally, it was reported in error that that test was taken 14 days before the Hatton bout, but subsequent reports pegged the test as being taken 24 days before the scrap. Malignaggi feels Pacquiao has been caught lying, that the report from Team Pacquiao that he “has difficulty taking blood” is a cover story. “Why is he effing lying?” Malignaggi said, heatedly.

The New Yorker doesn't believe too many fighters in the lighter weight classes are using PEDs, but thinks usage isn't uncommon in the heavyweight division. “That's hard to do and make weight,” he said.

The question is asked of Malignaggi: why does the issue make him so steamed?

“I don't like cheaters,” he said. “This is not baseball. You're not just hitting home runs. You have to worry about peoples' lives. Miguel Cotto in my opinion has been beaten by two cheaters. Manny if he's cheating is taking away from guys who are doing things the right way. His team is reneging on their words.”

And what if you're wrong, Malignaggi? What if Manny is clean, and you are hurting his rep with these allegations?

“I bet everything I own that I'm not,” he said. “But we'll never find out. Hey, I would take the test in a heartbeat. I would want people to know I'm clean. He wants to leave doubts!?? His entire legacy is being questioned, he's willing to hurt his legacy and leave $40 million on the table?”

Maliganngi, after reminding TSS that he was correct in predicting he'd be gamed by judges in the first fight with Diaz, insisted that he isn't singling out Pacquiao for a personal vendetta. “”I've never had anything against him. But that's enough now. I call it like I see it.”

What about those who'd say he's just trying to anger Pacquiao, to lure him into a fight?

“No. I expected he'd take the random tests to get this fight. No way I thought he'd throw away everything. That blew me away. It was cool to have my name mentioned.”

Malignaggi thinks the boxing media has dropped the ball, and not exercised due diligence in examining the possibility that Manny has used PEDs.

“I understand most people like Manny, and not Floyd. Just cause that's the case doesn't mean Manny might not be cheating. It's nothing to do with him personally. But I call a spade a spade. Too many people avoid the possibilities because Manny's a likable person. He's got that front, his country loves him. That front works like crazy. Floyd plays the bad guy, but he's natural. Just don't downplay the fact that Manny might be cheating. You have to open your eyes and at least be willing to look at it. This is bigger than me. The fact that the fight is not being made, you have to question the integrity of Pacquiao.”

Malignaggi then offered an analogy to the Manny-refusing-to-be-subjected-to multiple-random-drug-tests prior-to-a-fight-with-Mayweather deal. “It reminds me of the drunk guy who's pulled over at 3 AM. He has a field sobriety test, the cop knows he's drunk, he looks and acts drunk. But he refuses a breathalyzer test. That don't mean the cop don't haul him to the police station.”

I reiterate…I don't think anyone should be casting aspersions based on circumstantial evidence. But with so many people ganging up on Manny, I think fight fans are owed some details on why people are accusing Pacman of using PEDs.

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