Mayweather, Jones, and Whitaker were too dominant at their best to have rivals shoul

I imagine MW is floored by your crystal clear argument. He doesn't need to
get up though, not that kind of "floored". Instead I'm talking about the kind
of "floored" we usually mean when talking about boxing.. you know?

 

I second this post. Not as familiar with Jones as I got serious about boxing in 2000 so I missed Roys prime really. I have watched PBF's though and there definitely is some fighters he clearly ducked that would have tested him. We can not assume he would just win. Tyson was supposed to beat Douglass too.

 

:yep Yes he was.

 

What some observers thought:

Al Bernstein, ESPN: "I like Chavez. Whitaker's not going to be able to hold him off. Whitaker's fighting more on the inside than he used to and will get into trouble. And nobody has less trouble with southpaws than Chavez."

Robert Seltzer, Philadelphia Enquirer: "Whitaker is not nearly as fast and slick at 147 as he was at 135 and did not gain punching power, enough to discourage Chavez. Chavez is the Sugar Ray Robinson of our era, we should savor him while we can."

Nigel Collins, KO Magazine: "Chavez's left hook to the liver will be the key to taking away Whitaker's legs."

Jack Obermayer, Boxing Illustrated: "Whitaker loses some of his quickness at 147, Chavez to win in 12."

J.R. Jowett, Boxing Illustrated: "Whitaker's cleverness will give Chavez problems, but Chavez showed in the Meldrick Taylor fight that he remains undaunted and keeps on coming. He should break through late in the fight to beat Pernell."

Bill Gallo, New York Daily News: "Chavez is the best fighter I've seen since Sugar Ray Robinson. At this point in his career he is at his peak and unbeatable. He'll have an easy time with Whitaker because he is a far superior boxer and puncher. Chavez wins like he has to and the better the competition, the better he is."

Jose Laurino, Montevideo News: "Right now, Julio Cesar Chavez is at the top of his game and knows it. I don't see Chavez getting behind or having a problem with Whitaker's southpaw stance. The sensational Aztec will reaffirm his greatness. All of the elements needed to fuel a great fight are contained in this match-up, and Julio Cesar Chavez, using his fists, shoulders and elbows to apply pressure, will win. A multi-punch combination will send Whitaker to the canvas for the 10-count two minutes into the last round."

 

This

 

Then you'll ****in love this.

Scared? Whitaker strolls out of the dressing room to briefly check out the arena, and when he shows his face, that is what everyone in the crowd wants to know: You scared, Sweet Pea? You scared to fight the great Chávez? Eighty-seven and oh, that's what Chávez is. You fight Chávez, you fight more than a man—you fight an entire nation. And now, as Whitaker lingers in the shadow of the bleachers to watch a fight, the denizens and descendants of that nation turn their eyes to him. Occasionally they rise from their chairs and approach the man called Sweet Pea.

"You Pernell Wheet-ta-ka?" says one man. "You fighting Chávez? You really think you can beat him?"

"I know I can," Whitaker answers.

"I don't knoooow," the man says in a singsong. He is wearing a smile of suppressed hilarity, as though he's aware of something that Whitaker isn't, as though he's speaking to someone who doesn't have the sense to realize he's facing a death sentence..

Whitaker does not move. During these confrontations with the fans of Chávez, he remains virtually motionless, except for his smile. It is a sly, secret smile, the smile of the condemned man who knows he has won a reprieve.

Scared? Why should Whitaker be scared? He's 29 years old, and he has been boxing for 21 years. He fought 215 times as an amateur, and he won a gold medal in the 1984 Olympics. His professional record is 32-1, and he quickly avenged his one defeat, a dubious decision to José Luis Ramírez in 1988. He has won five titles in three different weight classes. Hell, it was his idea to take on Chávez. He loves this fight, everything about it: the hype, the preparation and the idea of settling, once and for all, the question of who is the best fighter, pound for pound, in the world.

Scared? No, he is not scared of Chávez. He is not all that different from Chávez, in size, age or temperament. They are both family men, devoted husbands and fathers, who like to stay out late and drink a lot of beer. In the ring they both seem less concerned with conventional notions of offense and defense than they are with the ownership of territory. Chávez contracts the ring, until he has left his opponent nothing but a corner, a place to fall down; Whitaker expands the ring, until he has left his opponent nothing but space, a place in which to lurch and drift. What they both insist upon, what they both are about, is control, and it is their similarities as much as their differences that make their pairing seem inevitable.

This is a battle between water and rock, between comedy and tragedy, between hip and square, between irony and literalism, between the fighter who swings and the fighter who ducks. This is a battle between two peoples, between the two styles that dominate the world of boxing—the Mexican and the African-American—and it is being waged by the two men who have taken those styles as far as they can go, into their hearts, into their souls, into the very fabric of their lives.

"Chávez too strong for Whitaker" is what they say in the arena, these men in their Chávez T-shirts. "Whitaker run. Whitaker clown. Whitaker play. Chávez no play." They are right, of course. In the Alamodome, Chávez will chase and Whitaker will run, clown and play. Chávez will move in straight lines, Whitaker in angles and circles. The pattern is almost preordained. In Mexico there is no dishonor in getting hit, only in not hitting back. In Young Park, the housing project in Norfolk, Va., where Whitaker grew up, people get hit too damned much to find much honor in it. In the projects, you try to avoid the punches and the dishonor, and to do so, you have to improvise, you have to master the art of paradox. Fear and courage, chaos and control, avoidance and attack—Whitaker has been wriggling between them for most of his life, from the moment he realized that he could win a fight without throwing a punch, that the worst thing he could do to a fighter was turn the ring into a playground, that he could call himself Sweet Pea in one breath and "a tough ***** from the projects" in the next, and somehow avoid the risk of contradiction.

..

"You're a lovely crowd," he says. "You love your fighter, and Chávez is a great fighter. But on September 10, he belongs to me. He has sold his soul to the devil."

...

Whitaker plays because there is power in play, and when he is at play in the ring, he feels what he calls "a rush—to think the guy can't hit me. People are saying, 'Jesus, why can't this guy put his hands on Sweet Pea?' Most fighters don't even know what's happened to them. I've taken something from them—their confidence, their fight plan. They can't hit you, the fight is yours. They get self-conscious about punching. After a while they start reaching, just hoping they're going to hit me. I don't care who I'm fighting. I don't care if it's God. If I don't want God to hit me, he's not going to hit me."

 

what would floyd mayweather record be if he fought the same guys that shane mosley fought:

-prime vernon forrest 2x
-prime winky wright 2x
-prime oscar de la hoya (2000) 2x
-fading but competitive fernando at 154 2x
-undefeated cotto

i think its fair enuff to say he might not be undefeated or would not have looked as special


whitaker, during his time, took on such challenges as a 5 foot 5 lightweight. which is why, despite having some losses, will always be ranked higher than floyd

 

Whitaker's hubris was both his strength and his downfall.

There's never been a more confident fighter.

No wonder he found coke so agreeable

 

Like Mosley he'd lose to Winky twice, and at best go 1-1 with DLH like Mosley did. Most likely loses to Forrest twice like Mosley did, or barely scrapes by in one fight. He'd beat a fading Vargas like Mosley did and probably still have enough to beat Cotto. Although, that a slightly inferior version of Cotto ran him rather close, who knows even there....

Floyd avoided a lot of fights because they didn't make economic sense, which is fine if you consider yourself a businessman first and foremost, which Mayweather probably does. But you're going to get held to account for it in discussions like these about who was greater....

He may surprise us still and fight some big fights, but if the last decade is anything to go by we can expect more stage management and risk averse ventures before ultimately cashing in his chips ala BHop.

 

Gotta like how he doesn't pull the "Ask my promoter" card when Larry asked him a question either.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDgxhnMJvkY&feature=youtube_gdata_player"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDgxhnMJvkY&feature=youtube_gdata_player[/ame]

 

:?

 

There's nothing dominant about retiring and taking vacations multiple times to duck the best.

 

When did Whitaker do that?

His last fights were against prime DLH and Trinidad after he'd badly deteriorated and had a body riddled by drug abuse. Arguably beat De La Hoya, at that.

Oh, Nvm.

 

look at how much respect larry shows for whitaker. no criticism

larry can't get his head around the twitter generation that we see now, boxers fight each other via the internet and youtube.

 

it's funny how Floyd ducked this guy or that guy or should have fought thought or that but he has the best resume of anyone ranked at 147.... Beat the lineal Champ bAldomir, the number 2 guy JUdah, Mosley was number one when he best m, also good whenever Hatton, Ortiz