|
梅威瑟宣布退休后,霍亚给他写了封信,发表在2015年12月发行的花花公子杂志。
亲爱的弗洛伊德:
你做到了。49-0,一个里程碑,伟大的玛西亚诺的记录。虽然实际上是由其他人做到的,包括我的偶像塞萨尔查韦兹,但谁在乎呢?
现在你退休了,是再次。 (第一次是我们在2007年的比赛后),这时候你说这回是真实的,你认真地挂了手套。所以我今天写信给你,祝你好运,和你道别。说实话,看到你退休,我没有不开心,因为没有你拳击会变的更美好。
让我们面对现实吧,你是无聊。只要看看你最近的表现。你最后的欢呼,对安德烈叶贝托12轮点数胜。怎么形容呢?一场灾难?打盹巨星?裁判竟然认为贝托没有赢得一个回合?因为每个人都知道贝托根本没有机会赢。我想更多的家庭选择观看重播而不是直播。但我并不介意花了75美金,因为它是一个伟大的投资。当我的孩子入睡困难时,我不用给他们读书了,我只要播放你的比赛,他们不超过第三轮就会睡着。
另一个原因是:你胆子太小,怕担风险。一个很好的例子就是你最大的“胜利”,你和帕奎奥之间的期待已久的破纪录的比赛。近450万购买!超过四亿美元的收入!全世界的头条新闻!这怎么可能对拳击不利呢?因为你撒了谎,你承诺的都没有兑现,问题是,这正是你想要的。你应该在五年前打帕奎奥,而不是五个月前。然而,这对你来说太危险了。你的职业生涯太谨慎,除非你有优势,否则你不会同意开战。当然,你打了一些大牌明星,但他们都已经老了。即使我们在2007年打的那场,也是在我职业生涯的末尾。再后来,你击败了墨西哥巨星阿瓦雷兹,但他太年轻,而且不得不放弃了太多的重量。
我进入这个行当就是为了去冒险,来者不拒。要证据么?我输了六次,31胜,我的第一次失败是对特尼,我学到了宝贵的一课,无论是在台上还是在生活中,我并没有停止追求更优秀的对手。击败Derrell Coley后我选择了P4P第一莫斯利,再次失败。虽然复赛裁判再次判我输掉了比赛。
之后我就不行了么?不,我到中量级去打伟大的霍普金斯,虽然被击败,但我36岁选择了你,38岁是帕奎奥。当一个拳手做到这一点,就等于是胜利了。我坚持金童推广的宗旨,最好就要面对最好的,但你并没有这样做。
你喜欢讨巧,你将那些处于劣势的对手击败了。虽然很多对手都属于高于平均水平的拳击手,但他们不是在你的层次,你是一个非常优秀的拳击手,我们这一代最好的防守型拳击手。但是,你为什么不能像穆罕默德.阿里,伦纳德一样呢?是没有机会么?2000年至2010年你都打了谁?马加里托和威廉姆斯要面对你的时候,你跑了。估计在中学田径队你就是一个明星。
你有一个最优秀的方面,那就是你的嘴,靠你的嘴赚了很多的钱,这方面我们会牢记。至于你的比赛么,我们已经遗忘了。
现在你已经让位,我们的注意力可以转向那些最好的拳击手。有阿瓦雷兹,戈洛夫金,凶猛的冈萨雷斯,猛男科瓦列夫,和许多追求上进的后起之秀,包括克劳福德,洛马琴科和瑟曼。 阿瓦雷兹和库托11月21日达不到PPV 440万的购买,但拳迷观看这次比赛会高兴得不得了,因为它没有一句空话。
现在你转移到了人生的一个新阶段,我敢肯定,不再用全年的训练,不用去健身房了,可以花时间与你的家人在一起了,但我不知道你到底会怎么做。你有很多的时间,并可以在瞬间花费大把的金钱。也许你会去做一个二手车经销商或运做一个马戏团。或者,也许你会去与星共舞。这是一份不错的工作,是安全的,待遇不错,还能让你在舞台上跑来跑去,就像你在自己的职业生涯经常做的那样。
Oscar De La Hoya Bids Farewell to Floyd Mayweather, Drops the Mic: Peter Strain
PETER STRAIN
This letter, written by Oscar de la Hoya, appears in the December 2015 issue of ** Magazine.
Dear Floyd:
You did it. You made it to the 49–0 mark, a milestone that you like to say only the great Rocky -Marciano reached but that was actually achieved by others, including my idol Julio César Chávez—but who’s counting? And now you’re retiring. Again. (The first time was after our fight in 2007.) This time you say it’s for real. You’re serious about hanging up the gloves. On to bigger and better things. So I’m writing to you today to wish you a fond farewell. Truth be told, I’m not unhappy to see you retire. Neither are a lot of boxing fans. Scratch that. MOST boxing fans. Why? Because the fight game will be a better one without you in it.
Let’s face it: You were boring. Just take a look at your most recent performance, your last hurrah in the ring, a 12-round decision against Andre Berto. How to describe it? A bust? A disaster? A snooze fest? An affair so one-sided that on one judge’s card Berto didn’t win a single round? Everyone in boxing knew Berto didn’t have a chance. I think more people watched Family Guy reruns that night than tuned in to that pay-per-view bout. But I didn’t mind shelling out $75 for the HD broadcast. In fact it’s been a great investment. When my kids have trouble falling asleep, I don’t have to read to them anymore. I just play them your Berto fight. They don’t make it past round three.
Another reason boxing is better off without you: You were afraid. Afraid of taking chances. Afraid of risk. A perfect example is your greatest “triumph,” the long-awaited record-breaking fight between you and Manny Pacquiao. Nearly 4.5 million buys! More than $400 million in revenue! Headlines worldwide! How can that be bad for boxing? Because you lied. You promised action and entertainment and a battle for the ages, and you delivered none of the above. The problem is, that’s precisely how you want it. You should have fought Pacquiao five years ago, not five months ago. That, however, would have been too dangerous. Too risky. You’ve made a career out of being cautious. You won’t get in the ring unless you have an edge. Sure, you fought some big names. But they were past their prime. Hell, even when we fought in 2007—and I barely lost a split decision—I was at the tail end of my career. Then later you took on Mexican megastar Saúl “Canelo” -álvarez, but he was too young and had to drop too much weight.
Me? I got into this business to take chances. I took on all comers in their prime. The evidence? I lost. Six times. After 31 wins, my first loss was to Félix Trinidad, and I learned a valuable lesson that is true both in the ring and in life: Don’t run. I didn’t stop taking on the best of the best. After beating Derrell Coley, I took on “Sugar” Shane Mosley at the height of his powers—undefeated and considered by many to be the pound-for-pound best in the world. Again, I lost. After four wins against more top-ranked fighters I took on Mosley again. We can debate who actually won the rematch, but the judges had me losing that one as well.
Did I go easy after that? No. I moved up to middleweight to win a belt and faced one of the greatest middleweights of all time, Bernard Hopkins. After a body shot that I’m still feeling took me out of the fight, I took on two more guys at the height of their power who, many years later, would finally face each other at the ages of 36 and 38—Manny Pacquiao and you. When fighters do that—when they risk losing—that’s when everyone wins. The mantra of my firm Golden Boy Promotions is **: the best taking on the best. It’s too bad you didn’t do the same.
You took the easy way out. When you weren’t dancing around fading stars (show idea for you: Dancing Around the Fading Stars), you were beating up on outclassed opponents. A lot of your opponents were above-average fighters, but they weren’t your caliber. You’re a very talented fighter, the best defensive fighter of our generation. But what good is talent if you don’t test it? Muhammad Ali did. Sugar Ray Leonard did. You? Not a chance. You spent 2000 to 2010 facing forgettable opening acts like Victoriano Sosa, Phillip N’dou, DeMarcus Corley, Henry Bruseles and Sharmba Mitchell. There were guys out there—tough scary opponents like Antonio Margarito and Paul Williams—but you ran from them. Were you ever on the track team in high school? You would have been a star.
Boxing will also be a better place without the Mouth. Your mouth, to be precise, the one that created “Money” Mayweather. I know you needed that Money Mayweather persona. Before he—and Golden Boy -Promotions—came along, nobody watched your fights. You couldn’t even sell out your hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. The Mouth made you money. More money than you could spend in a lifetime. (Wait, I’ve seen those episodes of 24/7. You probably will spend it all.) But the Mouth doesn’t have a place in boxing; save it for the WWE. Unless you’re someone like Ali, whose fights were as scintillating as his banter, the all-talk, no-entertainment model cheapens our sport. Boxers should speak with their fists and with their hearts. They don’t have to say anything to prove themselves. You’re going to have a legacy. You’ll be remembered as the guy who made the most money. As for your fights? We’ve already forgotten them.
Now that you’re stepping aside, attention can be turned to the sport’s real stars: the brawlers, the brave, the boxers who want nothing more than to face the best and therefore be the best. There’s Canelo, Kazakh KO sensation Gennady Golovkin, ferocious flyweight Román González, slugger Sergey Kovalev and a host of up-and-comers including Terence Crawford, Vasyl Lomachenko and Keith Thurman. Want to see what a monster fight looks like? Canelo takes on Miguel Cotto on November 21. It won’t do 4.4 million in PPV buys, but everyone who watches it will be thrilled. And that’s no empty promise.
You’re moving on to a new phase of life now, a second act. I’m sure it will be nice not to have to train year-round. To get out of the gym and spend time with your family. But I’m wondering what you’re going to do. You have a lot of time and, at the moment, a lot of money. Maybe you’ll put your true skills to work and open a used-car dealership or run a circus. Or maybe you’ll wind up back on Dancing With the Stars. It’s a job that’s safe, pays well and lets you run around on stage. Something you’ve been doing for most of your career. |
评分
-
查看全部评分
|