On PacMan and Cotto

I know it's a great week on the gig when they allow me to take a break from the daily trade rumours surrounding Roy Halladay and weigh in on the biggest fight of 2009. Short of them actually sending to Vegas to cover Pacquiao and Cotto live, it's the best assignment a sportswriter and lover of the sweet science could hope for.





I haven't seen every episode of the most recent edtion of HBO's outstanding 24/7 documentary series (it somehow never made it to air in Canada), so I haven't as in tune with the pre-fight buildup as I would like to be. But or months now I've been listening to friends, ex-fighters journalists weigh in on how they think the fight will unfold.


Jason Abelson, founding member of The Fight Network and host of Pound-for-Pound Radio says Pacquiao shreds Cotto, point blank.


Meanwhile, former three-division world champ Felix "Tito" Trinidad says Cotto y su corazon latino will find a way to win.


And what do I think?


I think Pacqiao wins, but at a price.


*Again, a disclaimer. Fight predictions made here are pretty damn reliable, but are neither 100 percent accurate nor legally binding. If you bet based on my predictions but somehow lose, don't go blaming me. Even the World's Greatest makes mistakes. Sometimes.*


Floyd Mayweather supporters might dispute the assertion that Pacquiao is the best fighter in boxing, but there's no doubting that Pac Man's December dismantling of Oscar De La Hoya and springtime destruction of Ricky Hatton make him the hottest boxer in the sport right now. He's improving every time out and packing plenty of power even when he ventures north of 140, and Mayweather's camp has to respect that even if they don't fear it.


HOWEVER, hot does not mean indestructible. 


Shane Mosley was the hottest fighter in boxing in 2001 when the late Vernon Forrest derailed him with a stiff jab and a sick right cross.


In 2008 Cotto, confident and undefeated, was in the same spot -- white hot until Antonio Margarito cooled him off with an 11th-round knockout, breaking Cotto's spirit and, it appears, several facial bones.





But that fight cost Margarito just as much as it did Cotto, because even in winning Margarito displayed weaknesses that Mosley would later exploit -- slow feet, a porous defence and a little too much confidence in his chin. Combine all that with a quick-thinking corner (hey commish, you mind double-checking Margarito's hand wraps?) and it adds up to the worst beating Margarito has ever suffered.


So what's that got to do with Pacquiao?


Everything.


Pacqiao should win this fight. I'm thinking late TKO (because Cotto cuts) or a fairly close decision. Cotto's stronger and naturally the bigger fighter, but Pacquiao is just too fast and busy and tenacious to lose.


But of everyone Pacquiao has faced since moving up from lightweight, Cotto is the closest to the top of his game. He's experienced but not old, and a better technician than most observers realize. With his jab and his body attack he could give Pacquiao fits, exposing flaws that others might attack later.


OK, not "others." 


Other.


Floyd Mayweather.


He may not Kanye West the post-fight interview like Sugar Shane did in September, but you best believe he'll be somewhere in that arena, taking notes, making plans, and moving us all a little closer to the biggest fight the sport can offer.


As long as Pacquiao does his part.

Baseball, Boxing and Say it Aint Sosa

On Baseball


Back on the job, back on the blog.


Didn't mean to leave you guys hanging this long, but I just spent about 10 days off work and offline. I returned full time to the office and the blog on Monday, just in time to realize that baseball (you know, that sport I actually get paid to write about) has no off season. Just a series of meetings, transactions and, above all, rumours to liven the dead time between the World Series and Spring training.


And as they did this past summer, the rumours I care about surround the Blue Jays and their ace, Roy Halladay.



Roy Halladay leaves the mound after his last, last, final last start as a Jay...Perhaps


On Boxing


Of course, if you know the World's Greatest then you know baseball is only half the story this week. And if you know me then you already know the other half is the sweet science -- specifically Saturday's welterweight showdown between Manny Pacquiao and Miguel Angel Cotto.


If this fight doesn't have you excited then you don't love boxing. And if you don't love boxing then you need to watch this fight and let two of the top fighters on the planet change your mind.





Later this week, when I've had a few more hours to think and the guys who pay me have publish a story I wrote recently on the Pacquiao Effect, I'll weigh in on how this fight should unfold. Until then, check out Greg Bishop's highly readable feature in the New York Times about the relationship between Pacquiao and trainer Freddie Roach. I wish I could say my upcoming Pacquiao piece outshines this one, but Bishop's story is likely the best read anyone will pen on this fight, period.


Say it Ain't Sosa


I don't even know what to say for Sammy. 




First saw the image last Satuday, when the GF pulled it up and asked me to identify the man next to buxom brunette.


I couldn't.


I could tell from the background that the photo was snapped at the Latin Grammys, and in my head I ran a slideshow if every salsa singer I could think of and a few I can't even name, and none of them matched the photo.


I was stumped.



Then she filled me in.


Sammy Sosa.


Yikes.


Now, I understand that a man can change. I saw Sammy Sosa morph from a scrawny outfielder with a juicy jheri curl and warning track power to a 220-pound home run machine.


I also watched him evolve from a fringe player at Comiskey, to Wrigley fan favourite when he was bashing balls on to Waveland Ave., to a pariah when people figured out he had some pharmaceutical help in becoming one of the game's premier power hitters.


The one constant through all this change has been Sammy's skin colour.


He was a black dude when he struggled through his early career with the Sox and Rangers, and just as black when he took the witness stand in a congressional hearing about steroid use and suddenly forgot how to speak English.


But now, two years past his last major league game, he's lighter than Julian Bond? 


Did he trade drug tests for paper bag tests?


Makes no sense.


His friends have tried to explain away this latest change in Sosa's appearance, telling media outlets that he's simply undergoing a process that "rejuvenates" his skin.


But scroll up and tell me if that explains why his eyes, which used to be brown, are now Erick Sermon-hazel. Or if it explains why his hand is three shades darker than his face. Or if it explains his hair, which is strangely straight even by jheri curl standards. Back in the day folks called that a "conk," and Chris Rock just made a documentary about how painful, expensive and unhealthy that process is.


But I could be wrong.


I don't know the man or what's motivating this latest change. 


All I know is what I see, and what I see is, frankly, freaky.