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There were ten or fifteen reporters hovering around him and Floyd Mayweather, Jr. was holding court. As usual, Floyd did most of the talking, and most of it was about his favorite subject, which of course is himself. Oscar De La Hoya had just smashed Ricardo Mayorga like a pinata and now the “Pretty Boy” was making a case to anyone listening that he should be the next one to face “The Golden Boy”.
Most everyone that flooded the aisles at the MGM Grand Garden Arena on this night were impressed with Oscar’s knockout performance. But, as usual, Floyd saw things differently; “Ricardo Mayorga is a bum. I'd blow him out of the water like my fists was torpedoes.”
Diminutive in stature, “Little Floyd”, as Floyd, Sr. calls him, possesses a heavyweight ego. “I’m a living legend. Sugar Ray Robinson and Muhammad Ali were the best of their time. I’m the best in my time.”
Spend a little time around “Pretty Boy” and you soon get the sense that this is Floyd’s world, and everybody else is just living in it. [details]
Most everyone that flooded the aisles at the MGM Grand Garden Arena on this night were impressed with Oscar’s knockout performance. But, as usual, Floyd saw things differently; “Ricardo Mayorga is a bum. I'd blow him out of the water like my fists was torpedoes.”
Diminutive in stature, “Little Floyd”, as Floyd, Sr. calls him, possesses a heavyweight ego. “I’m a living legend. Sugar Ray Robinson and Muhammad Ali were the best of their time. I’m the best in my time.”
Spend a little time around “Pretty Boy” and you soon get the sense that this is Floyd’s world, and everybody else is just living in it. [details]
No thanks Bigpop, in fact I'm leaving his world. 
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