Let's Face It, No One is Asking for Floyd Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao 2

Ah, 2015. Seems like the good old days, right?

"Uptown Funk" ruled the music charts. The first Apple Watch became a thing.

And the main Super Bowl talking point—aside from Marshawn Lynch not getting the ball at the 1-yard line—was about a dizzy guy dancing in a shark suit.

Oh, and in boxing, Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao finally fought.

The word "finally" applies because the general vibe heading into their get-together, on May 2 at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, was that it was already a few years too late.

After all, Money was 38, and PacMan was 36.

And while both claimed fractured shares of welterweight division supremacy and occupied lofty perches on worthwhile pound-for-pound lists, neither was on the level he'd been when the bout was first considered in late 2009.

Mayweather had been pushed in the meantime by a fundamentally bereft Marcos Maidana. Pacquiao was face-planted by a pee-slurping Juan Manuel Marquez.

Nevertheless, when fight night came, the money gushed in.

The live gate topped $70 million and the pay-per-view haul, at $100 a pop, was good for another $400 million, making it the biggest windfall in boxing history.

And that's not counting beverage service on the Lear-jet line at the then-McCarran Airport.  

Which, pathetically, made Monday's "Breaking News" even more predictable.

Why? Well…boxing.

Shortly after The Ring dangled the notion that an encore could come this year, the powers-that-be at Netflix went one better with confirmation that a rematch is not only planned, but officially on, for September 19 at The Sphere.

Yes, you read that right.

Not a photo opp. Not a meet and greet. A rematch.

That no one asked for. Between guys who'll be 49 and 47.

Because, in an era when even Jake Paul is taken seriously, nothing is too cringey if you put it in a cool venue and figure people will pay to see it.

Even after the first one wound up a colossal dud. And anyone who didn't see it coming probably can't be trusted with $100 anyway.

This just in: Mayweather fought in spurts and moved well.

Just like he always did.

And Pacquiao, not accustomed to facing a guy whose defense was so sound and whose counter shots were so precise, wasn't nearly the whirling dervish he'd been while terrorizing less-versatile 147-pounders.

JOHN GURZINSKI/Getty Images

The Filipino threw fewer punches, landed fewer punches, and, after the scorecards wound up 10-2, 8-4 and 8-4 for his opponent, protected a bruised ego by insisting it had been less about Mayweather and more about a bum shoulder—though he'd never so much as hinted at an injury to Freddie Roach and Co. during the fight.

As for post-fight reviews, let's just say there was a lot of one-star feedback.

Forbes contributor Brian Goff called it "the least entertaining 'mega fight' in memory." L.A. Times columnist Bill Dwyre deemed it "about as compelling as the 405 Freeway at 8 a.m." And The Wall Street Journal upped the ante on both, suggesting that after such an unenthralling Fight of the Century "it's good that we have 85 years left to top it."

Translated to 2026-speak, that's roughly akin to "Awful. Would not recommend."

The hype men, however, seem not to have gotten the message, even 11 years later.

The kickoff press release, crammed full of words like "blockbuster," "icon" and "milestone," failed to mention Mayweather has not been in an official fight since 2017 and Pacquiao has not won one in two tries since 2019.

Of course, they're the same people who'd baited 70,000 fans at AT&T Stadium and switched another 100 million streamers into the idea that a 58-year-old has-been and a 27-year-old never-was made for a compelling competition.

TIMOTHY A. CLARY / AFP

So why think they would let facts get in the way now?

Just like Mike Tyson was sold in 2024 as the menace he'd been during the Reagan administration, the spin-doctors this time will cast the faded stars as if they're just a training camp removed from youthful peaks—and capable, in their late 40s, of giving the public a show it deserved in their 20s and didn't get in their 30s.

Here's a tip: They're not.

It took two rounds for folks in Dallas to go from giddy anticipation to sad realization that there's a reason why guys who've barely fought in a decade—and haven't looked good for longer—don't come back for anything beyond disappointment.

And as good as they were at their peaks, Floyd and Manny won't be different.

Netflix and Chill? Hard pass.

You're probably better off with "Skip This and Grill."