By Jim Cawkwell
 
So persuasive is the influence of Oscar De La Hoya that his sheer will can tempt Felix Trinidad back from his shameful exile, and have pound-for-pound champion Floyd Mayweather, Jr. adjusting his career choices to suit its needs. Driven by unyielding vanity, money has long been immaterial to De La Hoya, who is seeking an aesthetically pleasing end to his illustrious career.

Fighting Trinidad may satisfy a curiosity of sorts, but it would serve mainly to affirm De La Hoya’s superiority, and that is scarcely doubted in most sectors of the industry. Mayweather is the final challenge befitting of De La Hoya’s indelible impact.
 
De La Hoya is toying with the notion of Trinidad, and casting aspersions on the legitimacy of Mayweather as a pay-per-view attraction with a purpose. With contracts yet to be signed for the super-fight, and Carlos Baldomir not yet dispatched by Mayweather, De La Hoya is sowing the seeds that negotiations will not be affected by Mayweather’s becoming, as expected, the welterweight champion; he should not expect to gather a greater purse than his already excessive end of the projected payout.
 
Though De La Hoya wants to challenge Mayweather’s pound-for-pound credentials, the real currency is held by De La Hoya and coveted with great avarice by Mayweather. By alluding to Trinidad, De La Hoya appears to temper his own eagerness, and retains control of the terms for the richest fight in history.
 
If their respective plans are realized, De La Hoya and Mayweather will combine to draw more numbers to a Las Vegas gate and persuade more viewers into parting their pockets for a pay-per-view than is likely to be seen for many years.

And it is a competitive fight.
 
Despite strategic miscalculations leading to certain defeats, De La Hoya’s fighting heart is unquestionable. But De La Hoya’s vanity must not stretch to the belief that he can make his final bow out-boxing the undoubted master of the modern game. The aggression with which De La Hoya annihilated Ricardo Mayorga must be used to unsettle Mayweather, who has chosen to decline such uncomfortable challenges of late.
 
Though many expect Mayweather to overcome De La Hoya in the ring, even more anticipate a symbolic passing of the torch. From “The Golden Boy” to “The Pretty Boy”; one scintillating spectacle to transfer the balance of power and prestige from the man that illuminated boxing’s last decade to the man seemingly destined to carry it into the next.
 
Except, it isn’t going to happen.
 
Drawing comparisons between Mayweather and De La Hoya alone does not help one understand why Mayweather will not transcend boxing; the impetus for the fighter to achieve that feat is not only on fistic or financial success, but on acquiring the affections of the people, and examples of those that have flourished, and those that have failed, are strewn throughout the sport’s history.
 
Drunk and downtrodden as he has appeared since his legendary fighting days, Julio Cesar Chavez is loved nonetheless because his people understood that when he fought, their pride sustained him, and he would go through hell to win for them and for Mexico.
 
As the majority of Filipinos make their way in the world, or struggle through the poverty and desperation of their home country, they know that one of their compatriots fights his own battles with ferocity and passion, dedicating every victory to them. When Manny Pacquiao fights, he throws each punch with the weight of all the love and hope in the Philippines behind each shot.
 
When Floyd Mayweather, Jr. fights, where else are his dedications, loyalties and passions other than with himself?
 
Though it was a sham of publicity manufactured by HBO at the time, people’s sentimentalities were drawn by the unlikely yet undeniable affection between Cus D’Amato and Mike Tyson. It was their mission to revolutionize heavyweight boxing; the shame is that they succeeded at the expense of Tyson’s ability to cope with the madness their success created.
 
And not distastefully, but repeated often enough to work its way into our collective subconscious, was the sacred nature of the relationship between Oscar de la Hoya and his deceased Mother so fundamental to his spirit and success.
 
There’s no right or wrong here, no judgment casting Mayweather as the villain, but indisputably, viewed as an entity with the potential to transcend the sport, the Floyd Mayweather, Jr. we see in the ring is brilliant, while outside it, he’s an embarrassment. His every indiscretion is magnified instead of downplayed. The constant battles he has with his Father are more colorful and certainly draw as much fan interest as those he has with his opponents.
 
He is a man known for unrelenting derision of the same opponents he promptly lavishes with superlatives once he’s beaten them and wonders why his pay-per-view numbers are only just above average.
 
That hypocrisy is perhaps most damaging to Mayweather’s stock. All but lauding yourself as an advocate for battered women before fighting convicted abuser Diego Corrales, only to be dragged up on the same charge on more than one occasion yourself is not only wrong, but when you’re Floyd Mayweather, Jr. it’s perilously bad for business.
 
History shows us that truly beloved fighters settled their places in the hearts of the people because those people identified with them. Boxing was born into Mayweather’s blood and we see him now as a businessman-boxer negotiating himself into lucrative fights in which the risks do not compare to the immensity of his talent.
 
Who identifies with that?
 
Where is the hook that might snag our hearts?
 
Surely even disenfranchised African-Americans that might most closely associate Mayweather’s success as a representative of their own potential do not view his now signature alienation of family and cold accumulation of wealth as a source of inspiration.
 
Against De La Hoya, Mayweather should take his place on the greatest stage of all. It is a pivotal moment for him, and the one you would expect to catapult him into that transcendent stardom that few before him legitimately won. But boxing’s bad boy is discovering that crunk in the boardroom is as foreign as corporate in the ‘hood.
 
Without a fundamental emotional connection to serve as the foundation of a captivating story, nor even the surefire thrill of inevitable knockout power, Mayweather faces many obstacles preventing his ascendancy into the greater public’s consciousness: A mainstream audience that doesn’t care enough about pure skill to turn their attention towards his career, let alone seek out products associated with his name; an assortment of sponsors that will not go to pains to endorse him knowing they might see his name linked to yet more misdemeanors; and the microcosm of the boxing community that knows his talent, and all too well his disingenuous disposition.
 
Contact Jim Cawkwell at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk