by David P. Greisman

In order to be the man, Arturo Gatti will have to beat the man. Carlos Baldomir is the man, at least at welterweight. But even if Gatti wins, he will be the man without being the best.

It is a reality of boxing that would drive Ric Flair crazy.

If you take a look at your scorecards, you’ll see that this column has had the occasional wrestling reference. And it’s not just because both involve athletes performing in squared circles.

Before boxing became my obsession, I grew up with professional wrestling. And while the sweet science has, in my heart, replaced what’s now been dubbed “sports entertainment,” I still get nostalgic for Ric Flair. Heck, I’ve even let out a signature “whoo” or two in public.

But the 16-time world champion Flair would stop strutting and scratch his head if, this coming July, Arturo Gatti became a three-time titlist by beating Carlos Baldomir. By doing so, Gatti would become the lineal welterweight champion – a far better distinction than the paper title he picked up at 140 – yet he could never say that he was the best fighter at 147.

Gatti can only blame two things: a man and an institution.

First and foremost, Gatti can point to Floyd Mayweather Jr., at whose hands last year Gatti received an embarrassing drubbing, essentially getting run out of the junior welterweight division. Since then, both Gatti and Mayweather have migrated northward to welterweight for separate reasons. For the former, it is easier to make weight when one has to drain seven fewer pounds. For the latter, it is easier to make money, with megafights against Zab Judah (done), Oscar De La Hoya and Shane Mosley around, and with the extra perk that Mayweather’s unfinished business at 140 – Ricky Hatton – has followed him up the scales.

But Gatti can also blame the business of boxing. There are four major sanctioning bodies, each with major flaws and different ideas of who and what a title contender should be. With this set-up as the status quo, a champion or titlist needs not defend against the best, but merely a mandatory – the lesser-desired outcome – or, more preferably, the man who makes him the most money.

After Carlos Baldomir upset Zab Judah in January, Baldomir became the rightful claimant to the welterweight throne. Yet perhaps because of his record, his less-than-brilliant boxing skills or Judah’s tarnished reputation, he was derided as a fluke, a champion that, on paper and in the minds of a majority of observers, would lose to Mayweather 100 times out of 100.

Because so many outcomes are decided on paper these days – and why shouldn’t they be, as fighters seemingly fight only two to four times a year – there was little in the way of clamoring for Baldomir to cement his surprising ascendance. Everyone already knew what would happen. After all, they predicted Baldomir outpointing and nearly knocking out Judah, too.

Sarcasm aside, Baldomir picked the road paved with gold, opting for the kind of payday guaranteed when facing a popular ticket-seller like Gatti.

But what if it is Gatti with the gold – or, in this case the green, the WBC title belt that now represents the true welterweight championship?

Sure, Gatti could defend against any number of fighters, but few people would desire that he take a rematch with Mayweather. All the extra pounds would do for Gatti is help him make a louder thud in defeat.

Alas, we’ve come upon a quandary in which the lineal welterweight championship – a progression essentially unobstructed for nearly a century – means little if Gatti beats Baldomir and if Mayweather sticks around.

Perhaps, for the sake of cleanliness, one must do the unthinkable and root against Gatti, either hoping he loses to Baldomir, or wish that in the case of a win he chooses to vacate or retire.

But Gatti winning against Baldomir is still a hypothetical situation. No matter how many words I write and how many scorecards I tabulate with ink, it is still not the scribe deciding the outcomes of the fights.

Rather, it is the fighters, one of which is a career welterweight. For all the abuse that Baldomir took about his limited knockout power prior to the Judah fight, his 12 kayos in 42 wins may not mean as much about his natural size.

Indeed, welterweight is a division where the Judahs and the Mayweathers are close to their regular poundage, having competed in the lower weight classes for much of their careers. Even the Gattis and Hattons – guys who are so adept at melting the fat that they should do an infomercial together – may be at a perceived disadvantage to the Baldomirs and Margaritos, guys for whom 147 is where they are both comfortable and competent.

How strange was it to read Arturo Gatti say to MaxBoxing.com’s David Kolb that he felt he was at a size disadvantage and would have to start lifting weights to compensate?

“I need to get bigger,” Gatti told Kolb. “He looks like a big welterweight.”

Should Baldomir beat Gatti, he will not just be big in physical stature, but back-to-back wins over Judah and Gatti would also increase the reasons for his recognition.

And if Baldomir defeats Gatti, then names like Mayweather and Margarito can join aging superstars like Oscar De La Hoya and Shane Mosley in bringing the legitimacy back to the lineal championship, reconciling the idea of “the man” with that of “the best.”

Now that’s something to “whoo” about.

The 10 Count will return next week.