There was little to be learned by followers or experts after a predictable outcome to the money-spinning boxing match in Las Vegas between Floyd Mayweather and Conor McGregor
A bar is, on thought, the right place to watch a bar crusade. Ultimately, for Conor McGregor, there was time for neither much envisaging nor a lot of what the Irishman would regard as proper resist. He approximately redoubled his Warholian 15 instants of popularity and greatly intensified his wealth, while retaining a good deal of dignity in defeat.
Yet, from our noisy blot in front of a screen in the Lansdowne Road Bar( where else ?) in New York City on Saturday night, it was clear that what mental and physical opening Floyd Mayweather let the mixed martial artist on his grown-up debut in a squared ring in Las Vegas was practice most intense than anything McGregor can have imagined during his youth back in Dublin. His diddling about during a handful of teenage amateur boxing bouts in Crumlin, topped up by preparation for this fight that had its infancy in sparring a year ago, was the most uninformative preparation for what engulfed him from the midway stages of the nine-and-a-bit rounds it lasted.
As Jake LaMotta is alleged to have spluttered through bruised cheeks at Sugar Ray Robinson in the 13 th round of the last of their six campaigns, in Chicago in 1951:” Ya never employ me down, Ray. Ya never threw me down .” And so it was for McGregor, slapped so sharply and with such inevitability from the sixth to the 10 th, but left with the fees of perpendicularity at the end.
Of course they smiled and hugged. Metaphorically that is what they had been doing in an lengthened buildup that took in a publicity tour of the UK- where pay-per-view figures on Sky were expected to be stratospheric- and the United States, where punters paid nearly $100 for the privilege of watching this unique moment at home or $40 in barrooms like the Lansdowne Road on 10 th Avenue.
Mayweather became lane northward of the rumoured $100 m and is now a billionaire. McGregor went home with a kitty close to the $30 m person that divulged out from sources. Showtime and other shops cleaned up too. It was, as they claimed, the biggest contend in record, financially at least.
And that was the detail of everything there is for the fighters. Contrary to the wider sensing, they cared not a lot for the integrity of their punishments. They very much appreciated making figures to the contrary, nonetheless, which left the altogether false impression that boxing’s future was in the handwritings of its maestro and Dana White’s rolling UFC circus was going to depend on a McGregor miracle.
But miracles happen only in the Bible and Hollywood. This was neither a sermon on the mount nor a movie. There were few lessons learned but the obvious ones. As every worthwhile expert- almost entirely from “the worlds” of professional boxing- had been saying for months, McGregor held no chance.
That does not mean to say boxing is better than MMA. If McGregor had won, neither would it have proved the opposite. They are as different as rugby conference is from rugby union.
Boxing is a athletic conducted directly over the leading leg, with the load contained there as a fulcrum through which all meaningful blows are launched, with spontaneity and rapidity; MMA, a boast of punching, kicking and grappling, relies on the mutual agreement of distance and pausing and is being carried out in staccato flares of flying legs, gloves and leaping. So fair play to Ireland’s finest exponent of the mixed arts for even attempting to compete with the finest boxer of the current generation while leaving most of his weapons at home.