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LAS VEGAS – Tickets had sold out quicker than a one-two combination and were soon going for 10 times face value. As Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao arrived to resounding cheers, despondent faces were left locked outside, lamenting the action they were missing.
Within the MGM Grand Garden Arena there was jostling and shrieking, glowstick-waving and rap, flurries of flashbulbs and representatives of every subsection of Sin City’s fluid visiting society.
And all in breathless anticipation of … a few moments when two men strip to their underwear and step onto a set of scales.
The real story of the popularity of the Mayweather versus Pacquiao welterweight showdown that will take place here Saturday was not to be found in the bold tagline proclaiming it the Fight of the Century, not in the global media attention, not even in the thousands or tens of thousands being exchanged for fight night’s prime seats.
No, it was to be found at the same venue on Friday lunchtime, at the weigh-in, a simple and time-honored process by which boxers prove they are within their allowed limit.
The basic facts are these: Pacquiao tipped the scales first, coming in at 145lb exactly, 2lb within the 147lb limit. Mayweather followed a minute later, tipping the scales at 146lbs.
But that doesn’t tell half the story. Because this was one of those things that shouldn’t have been worthwhile, by any stretch of the imagination. Except that it was. It was better than good, it was fascinating, intoxicating, spine-tingling theater.
Boxing has gotten much wrong in recent years, but one surprisingly magical stroke has been the gravitation of the weigh-in from being a preliminary routine into a compelling spectacle.
The lure of the weigh-in as a public occasion has only grown in popularity since it took off ahead of Oscar De La Hoya v. Mayweather in 2007, which was, of course, the most recent contest to be billed as Fight of the Century.
When British boxer Ricky Hatton twice ventured to Las Vegas to take on Mayweather and Pacquiao respectively, the atmosphere turned into something akin to a European soccer match, with songs, chants, deafening noise and even a brass band.
On Friday, there were a sprinkling of the kind of high-rollers who would plump themselves ringside a day later, but not too many. This was the event for the masses, for the folks priced out by exorbitant pricing or locked out by the odious decision to release just 500 seats for general sale.
FTW: The complete betting guide to Mayweather-Pacquiao
This was for people like Robel Hossein, a 29-year-old taxi driver from Riverside, Calif., who was heading straight back home Friday afternoon to watch the fight at a friend’s house.
“I couldn’t afford the fight ticket prices,” Hossein said. “I couldn’t afford the closed circuit and I couldn’t afford the weekend hotel rates. But I got lucky with this and here I am, part of the biggest show in boxing history.”
Hossein got lucky in that he snagged a weigh-in ticket at its original price of $10, the proceeds of which were to be donated to charity. Others paid far more, the highest on the secondary market being offered for $570 on StubHub, with the ticket marketplace also donating its commission to charitable causes.
Was it worth it?
“Every cent,” said Clifford Jones, a Mayweather fan from the boxer’s hometown of Grand Rapids, Mich., who paid $125 on StubHub on Friday morning.
Pacquiao had come out first, smiling and looking confident, accompanied by trainer Freddie Roach and his advisor Michael Koncz. Mayweather, as usual, came with an enormous entourage and remained impassive during the post-weight faceoff where Pacquiao appeared to be smiling and nodding at him.
For the benefit of the television audience there were a few comments from each other, the type of meaningless platitude you generally get this close to a fight.
You can always hear those, but you don’t always see this – an extraordinary event to precede what will hopefully be another on Saturday.
TWEET
LAS VEGAS – Tickets had sold out quicker than a one-two combination and were soon going for 10 times face value. As Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao arrived to resounding cheers, despondent faces were left locked outside, lamenting the action they were missing.
Within the MGM Grand Garden Arena there was jostling and shrieking, glowstick-waving and rap, flurries of flashbulbs and representatives of every subsection of Sin City’s fluid visiting society.
And all in breathless anticipation of … a few moments when two men strip to their underwear and step onto a set of scales.
The real story of the popularity of the Mayweather versus Pacquiao welterweight showdown that will take place here Saturday was not to be found in the bold tagline proclaiming it the Fight of the Century, not in the global media attention, not even in the thousands or tens of thousands being exchanged for fight night’s prime seats.
No, it was to be found at the same venue on Friday lunchtime, at the weigh-in, a simple and time-honored process by which boxers prove they are within their allowed limit.
The basic facts are these: Pacquiao tipped the scales first, coming in at 145lb exactly, 2lb within the 147lb limit. Mayweather followed a minute later, tipping the scales at 146lbs.
But that doesn’t tell half the story. Because this was one of those things that shouldn’t have been worthwhile, by any stretch of the imagination. Except that it was. It was better than good, it was fascinating, intoxicating, spine-tingling theater.
Boxing has gotten much wrong in recent years, but one surprisingly magical stroke has been the gravitation of the weigh-in from being a preliminary routine into a compelling spectacle.
The lure of the weigh-in as a public occasion has only grown in popularity since it took off ahead of Oscar De La Hoya v. Mayweather in 2007, which was, of course, the most recent contest to be billed as Fight of the Century.
When British boxer Ricky Hatton twice ventured to Las Vegas to take on Mayweather and Pacquiao respectively, the atmosphere turned into something akin to a European soccer match, with songs, chants, deafening noise and even a brass band.
On Friday, there were a sprinkling of the kind of high-rollers who would plump themselves ringside a day later, but not too many. This was the event for the masses, for the folks priced out by exorbitant pricing or locked out by the odious decision to release just 500 seats for general sale.
FTW: The complete betting guide to Mayweather-Pacquiao
This was for people like Robel Hossein, a 29-year-old taxi driver from Riverside, Calif., who was heading straight back home Friday afternoon to watch the fight at a friend’s house.
“I couldn’t afford the fight ticket prices,” Hossein said. “I couldn’t afford the closed circuit and I couldn’t afford the weekend hotel rates. But I got lucky with this and here I am, part of the biggest show in boxing history.”
Hossein got lucky in that he snagged a weigh-in ticket at its original price of $10, the proceeds of which were to be donated to charity. Others paid far more, the highest on the secondary market being offered for $570 on StubHub, with the ticket marketplace also donating its commission to charitable causes.
Was it worth it?
“Every cent,” said Clifford Jones, a Mayweather fan from the boxer’s hometown of Grand Rapids, Mich., who paid $125 on StubHub on Friday morning.
Pacquiao had come out first, smiling and looking confident, accompanied by trainer Freddie Roach and his advisor Michael Koncz. Mayweather, as usual, came with an enormous entourage and remained impassive during the post-weight faceoff where Pacquiao appeared to be smiling and nodding at him.
For the benefit of the television audience there were a few comments from each other, the type of meaningless platitude you generally get this close to a fight.
You can always hear those, but you don’t always see this – an extraordinary event to precede what will hopefully be another on Saturday.
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