By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
Pacquiao, who won his seventh title by beating Joshua Clottey in Arlington last March, slays his bigger opponents not with a powerful haymaker, but rather a million paper cuts. His flurry of fists during the exchanges of close in-fighting are legendary. During their convergences in Cowboys Stadium, it wasn't uncommon for Pacquiao to land three punches to Margarito's one.
"Manny's a freak, let's face it," his trainer, Freddie Roach, said during last Thursday's final pre-fight press conference. "We're not going to see another Manny Pacquiao in our lifetime. If you get four world titles it's a big deal. One is hard enough. To win eight is unheard of. He continues to amaze me."
Conceded Garcia, "Manny's the best fighter in the world."
Since he can't further his legacy by fighting Ali or Tyson or Sugar Ray Leonard or Rocky Marciano, Pacquiao will sit and wait on Floyd Mayweather Jr. That fight—pitting the world's two best pound-for-pound boxers—would attract record crowds and viewers and generate unfathomable revenue, but it's on hold while Mayweather deals with criminal charges stemming from a domestic dispute in September. Until then, Pacquiao will pour his pitter-pounding heart and soul into his life's other passions: Singing. And governing.
And to think, at one point we clamored at the thought of watching the other Pacman—failed cornerback Adam Jones—in Cowboys Stadium.