Why Floyd Mayweather Must Come Out of Retirement to Fight for Win No. 50
Floyd Mayweather dropped to his knees and looked skyward at the final bell, perhaps reflecting on the 19 years of boxing brilliance that he earnestly claimed before and after beating Andre Berto was now over.
Mayweather is among the most polarizing figures to ever lace up the gloves, but, love him or hate him, he’s the greatest professional prizefighter of his era and one of the all-time greats in any era.
He’s not "the best ever" (TBE), as he fashions himself these days, but he’s one of TBE, and that’s why he can’t allow the last memory boxing fans have of him to be the one-sided pugilistic clinic he put on against Berto, who, nice guy aside, was one of the worst possible opponents for such a significant fight.
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Staying retired isn't even an option.
Not after Berto and not with win No. 50 still there for the taking.
Most fans and media dismissed all the retirement talk in the days and weeks leading up to September 12 as little more than bluster intended to market and sell a fight that nobody wanted to see.
Speak of nobody, they also never really expected that Berto, a once good-looking prospect/champion who saw his career skip the rails due to bad luck, injuries and losses, would really end up as Floyd’s swan-song opponent.
Between the knee dropping after the bell, the never-wavering from retirement talk and the long, reflective post-fight presser in which Mayweather seemed genuinely tired of it all and delivered a requiem for his career, everything had the look and feel of legit.
Mayweather, whether as “Pretty Boy,” “Money” or “The Best Ever,” spent just under two decades carefully crafting a massive commercial engine built upon his in-ring brilliance and out-of-ring controversies.
He’s had his run-ins with the law—a long and disturbing history of domestic violence—that resulted in jail time, rubbed many the wrong way with his constant trash talk (in fairness he backed all of it up) and even ranked himself above Muhammad Ali (no) and Sugar Ray Robinson (double-no) in a recent all-time ranking on ESPN Deportes (via Chuck Schilken of the Los Angeles Times).
Through it all Mayweather has remained the "Teflon Don" of boxing, generating smash hit after smash hit at the box office, culminating in a record-setting effort against Manny Pacquiao in May that set pay-per-view buy numbers that will never be eclipsed.
He’s generated an unprecedented amount of attention for the sport (plus money for himself), and, whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re going to miss him, even if you just miss rooting against him.
And he’ll miss you, or, at least, the dollars you fork over to him every time he fights, even if he made a point (many times) at the post-fight presser of pointing out that money no longer motivates him to put on the gloves.
Mayweather has been a net gain for boxing—whether you want to admit that to yourself or not—and the void at the top (if he indeed remains retired) of the game is massive and not easily or quickly filled.
No, that’s not his problem, but what is his problem is how he’ll be remembered.
Hit the rewind button to August 4.
That was the day when Mayweather announced via his Instagram account (with what appeared to be a poster designed by a high school student in computer class) that he’d be facing Berto and telling fans to “Come be a part of history.”
History presumably referred to it being his last fight because there was nothing particularly noteworthy about taking on a fighter who came in having lost as many fights as he won in the last four years and last won a significant fight in...
We’ll keep looking.
Attention to the fight—inasmuch as there was attention—was widely negative from everyone not named Mayweather or on his payroll.
Leonard Ellerbe and Stephen Espinoza did their best trying to convince the masses that there was something to see here, but the public, perhaps still jaded over the Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao debacle, never warmed up.
Mayweather has been an absolute master at drumming up interest, giving you a reason to part with your hard-earned cash even when your gut told you no, but this one just never got that buzz.
Ask anyone in Las Vegas during fight week or in the arena on fight night and they’ll tell you that the feeling was completely different from other Mayweather fights.
ESPN.com’s Darren Rovell reported that thousands of tickets were still available on Ticketmaster as late as Tuesday (four days before the fight), and the official attendance number released on fight night (via Rovell) was a couple of thousand short of a sellout.
Now, before you dismiss this as yet more invective against the beleaguered millionaire who engenders psychotic hatred from his detractors and sycophantic loyalty from those who think it gets them closer to the seat of power, ponder this question:
Is that the way a fighter as truly great as Floyd Mayweather has been throughout his career should want to leave the sport he dominated?
Is that how he wants to be remembered?
The lasting impression he wants to leave?
A lackluster affair completely devoid of any drama before, during and after, and one that felt like a fight we couldn't wait to end rather than the celebration of a great career?
No.
Win No. 50 and a proper sendoff for what might well be the most talented fighter and marketer many of us have ever seen beckons.
And he can't pass up the opportunity.
Kevin McRae is a member of the Boxing Writers Association of America. You can follow him on Twitter @McRaeWrites.
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