Tito, way too big. Accuracy and power and relentlessness against a smaller aggressive guy would only end in Pacquaio being pummeled.
It’s not as one sided as many may think, Trinidad would be predictable for someone like Pacquiao technically, he’d change levels on the stiffer Trinidad and would tap to the head with the led left and also stab to the body with it, then come back over with that up jab, create angles, but the size of Trinidad, I’d favour most times to pull through and stop Pacquiao whilst Trinidad is behind on the cards, but Pacquiao could out point him on occasion.
Trinidad by ko in my opinion. Tito was a real strong fighter in his prime, not like a faded De La Hoya that face Manny. Pacman was a best fighter that Trinidad but in the welterweight Tito win.
Step right up, fight fans, and let your imagination take you ringside for a welterweight fantasy so tantalizing it could only be brewed in the fevered mind of a boxing historian typing feverishly in his basement, drinking whiskey high as a kite and quite possible channeling the ghost of Bert Sugar: Manny “PacMan” Pacquiao versus Felix “Tito” Trinidad at the championship weight of 147 pounds. This is the kind of contest that makes old-timers reach for their stogies and young bucks reach for their smartphones. Let’s set the stage. Manny Pacquiao, the Filipino whirlwind, has made a career out of defying the odds and the tape measure. Remember when he danced with giants—Oscar De La Hoya, Miguel Cotto, and, most notably, Antonio Margarito, a man who looked like he was carved from a granite mountain and came into the ring with a 17-pound advantage? Pacquiao didn’t just survive; he painted Margarito’s face with combinations, breaking his orbital bone and sending him to the hospital, all while giving up height, reach, and weight. Manny’s secret? Speed, angles, and a rhythm that would make a metronome blush. He’s a southpaw who doesn’t just throw punches—he throws questions, and most opponents never find the answers. Across the ring stands Tito Trinidad, Puerto Rico’s pride, a man whose style is as subtle as a sledgehammer. Trinidad stalks, right leg cocked, waiting to unleash those thunderous left hooks and looping rights. He’s a seek-and-destroy artist, a pressure fighter who loves to mix it up to the head and body, but with a tendency to plod forward, sometimes forgetting to pack his lateral movement for the trip. Tito’s power is legendary, his chin granite, but his footwork—well, let’s just say he’s no Fred Astaire. Now, let’s get down to brass tacks. How does this one play out? Trinidad comes forward, as is his custom, looking to trap Pacquiao along the ropes and unleash his signature combinations. But here’s where the PacMan magic comes in. Manny’s footwork—honed to a razor’s edge under Freddie Roach—lets him dart in and out, never in the same place twice. He’s made a living out of befuddling bigger, slower men, and Tito, for all his power, isn’t winning any footraces. Pacquiao would exploit Trinidad’s linear attack by using angles, circling away from Tito’s left hook and peppering him with those piston-like straight lefts and right hooks. Every time Trinidad cocks that right leg, Manny’s already gone—hitting, not getting hit, and making Tito reset. The Filipino’s ability to throw punches from odd angles, to turn defense into offense in a blink, would leave Trinidad swinging at shadows. Sure, Trinidad would have his moments—he always does. But as we saw against Hopkins and other slick movers, Tito can be flummoxed by fighters who won’t stand still. Pacquiao, with his granite chin and willingness to trade when necessary, would take a few to land a few, but he’d pile up points with combinations, movement, and sheer audacity. In the championship rounds, as Trinidad presses, Pacquiao’s stamina and speed would shine. The crowd would be on its feet, the air thick with anticipation, but as the final bell rings, it’s the PacMan grinning, gloves aloft, having once again turned a bigger man’s power into just another footnote in his legend. So there you have it, folks—a fight for the ages, written in the stars and played out in the mind’s eye. Pacquiao vs. Trinidad at 147: a battle of styles, a clash of eras, and a reminder that in boxing, as in life, it’s not always the biggest man who wins—it’s the one who never stops moving. And that, my friends, is the sweet science at its sweetest.
Trinidad had big advantages in height and reach, he was a natural at the weight, with heavy hands and one punch power, and excellent condition to keep pressure nonstop for all 12 rounds and keep blasting away with big power throughout. I just don't see a guy as short as Pac being able to handle that for 12 rounds. Pac's defense was solid, but he was no Whitaker or Mayweather when it came to avoiding blows. Once Tito does catch him with that hook, I'm not so sure he lasts.
Prime Tito was a beast, but Pacquaio was a buzz saw at 147. If you put 09-10 Pac against Tito from the DLH fight I think it's 50/50.
