Bet the house on Pacquiao

Did I mention that Clottey only has 3 people in his corner, and that his trainer/hand wrapper/cutman is a 64 year old part time locksmith? Here's a good excerpt from the article:

"In a short-staffed camp, De Jesus has taken on the bulk of the worry. (At the moment, Bruce is more concerned about the workout's sound track; he takes out a compact disc and heads over to the stereo in the corner. Kwaku is thinking he might make chicken soup for dinner.) "I'll be honest with you," De Jesus says after he's finished the wraps. "Our first job will be getting this kid up those three steps and into the ring."

Most trainers set bigger goals for their fighters than on-time delivery, but De Jesus has been around long enough -- having worked Pacquiao's corner as a cut man many years ago -- to know how badly the odds have been stacked against his fighter. It's just that everyone in a challenger's camp usually does a better job of ignoring the odds, often by invoking the fat ghost of Buster Douglas. This time, though, nobody bothers pretending, except Arum, whose Top Rank stable happens to include Pacquiao and Clottey. "I really believe this is the better fight," he says, trying to banish thoughts of what could have been. "Joshua won't run." That's probably true, but only because Clottey has nobody to run to. Arum has left him largely to his own devices, not wanting to see his greatest asset, Pacquiao, devalued by a shock loss to some African. Clottey's current manager, a self-described "businessman from Jersey" named Vinny Scolpino, whom Clottey threatened to drop last year after a public contract dispute and money woes, isn't exactly boxing's most influential power broker either. And most important: Godwin Kotey, the Ghanaian trainer who helped start Clottey on his way to 35 wins, has been denied his U.S. visa. (Clottey flew to Ghana in January to help the trainer negotiate with the U.S. embassy, but was unsuccessful.) All of which has left Clottey in this broken-down Fort Lauderdale gym with De Jesus, one man substituting for Floyd Mayweather and the other for an entire machine. "I guess I'm it," De Jesus says with his hands in the air."

 

I believe that prediction showcases an utter lack of common sense. Anything can happen though. I'll give you all the props in the world if you're right.

 

The entire article will be in the March 8th edition of ESPN the Magazine; right in time for the fight. Clottey has a lot to overcome. His training camp for this fight will only be 5 weeks long.

 

I admire your consistency. Again, you will get no shortage of praise from me if Clottey wins.

 

Here's another good excerpt;

He touches gloves with Frias. Like Pacquiao, the Cuban is a southpaw, but there the comparison ends. Clottey blinks the salt out of his eyes and shows his strength, easily pushing Frias around the ring. He has good power and he is big for a welterweight -- he could weigh as much as 160 pounds on fight night -- but he doesn't possess much flash or grace. He doesn't even bother moving his head; if he keeps it this still against Pacquiao, the Filipino might very well remove it, take it home and bury it in his backyard. Near the end of the third round, Clottey shouts and launches himself into Frias, his feet leaving the canvas and his fist crashing into the Cuban's headgear. That's enough of that. Halfway through the workout, Frias quits. He gestures to his right shoulder, saying it's hurt. "We'll find someone new for tomorrow," De Jesus says.

Later, Bruce works the pads for Clottey, their rhythm broken by the rust, and after Clottey spends a round dancing to the music, the workout's over, a little over an hour after it began. He takes a swig of water, spits it into the air and catches it with the top of his head. He's looking forward to his shower.Except that it's still broken, even though Scolpino had promised it would be fixed