By Lyle Fitzsimmons - It finally happened.
About a minute into round two of Saturday night’s mega-event in Las Vegas, anyone waiting years for Floyd Mayweather Jr. to face real adversity in a ring got their wish.
Courtesy of two booming right hands from Shane Mosley – the second of which noticeably buckled his knees – those with a notion the former five-division belt-holder was simply a combat-averse frontrunner who’d feasted on subpar competition had their day in in-ring court.
In Mosley, they said, a Hall of Famer who’d ruled two divisions before earning lineal championship status at welterweight, the caustic windbag known as “Money” would hardly be permitted to employ the shoot-move-grab techniques that had maddened 39 previous challengers.
It was a fight he never wanted, they insisted, and, presented with a similarly quick and more powerful foil, Mayweather would either be compelled to dig into an unexplored bag of tricks, or, more likely, exposed in its absence as a mouthy made-for-reality TV wannabe.
And at the moment the second right landed and momentarily lowered their stricken villain’s backside toward the canvas, you could almost hear blissful clicking as keyboard soothsayers far and wide readied their pithy “See, I told you so” submissions. [Click Here To Read More]
About a minute into round two of Saturday night’s mega-event in Las Vegas, anyone waiting years for Floyd Mayweather Jr. to face real adversity in a ring got their wish.
Courtesy of two booming right hands from Shane Mosley – the second of which noticeably buckled his knees – those with a notion the former five-division belt-holder was simply a combat-averse frontrunner who’d feasted on subpar competition had their day in in-ring court.
In Mosley, they said, a Hall of Famer who’d ruled two divisions before earning lineal championship status at welterweight, the caustic windbag known as “Money” would hardly be permitted to employ the shoot-move-grab techniques that had maddened 39 previous challengers.
It was a fight he never wanted, they insisted, and, presented with a similarly quick and more powerful foil, Mayweather would either be compelled to dig into an unexplored bag of tricks, or, more likely, exposed in its absence as a mouthy made-for-reality TV wannabe.
And at the moment the second right landed and momentarily lowered their stricken villain’s backside toward the canvas, you could almost hear blissful clicking as keyboard soothsayers far and wide readied their pithy “See, I told you so” submissions. [Click Here To Read More]
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