Didja Watch The Flight of the Century From Las Vegas?

  

Last week TheBlot posted my parody article about the then-upcoming Mayweather-Pacquiao fight. 
My theme was that the guys, now in their late 30s, were too old, compared to earlier boxing champs. Boy, did my wise old coot prediction ever come true!

A kindly neighbor invited me over to watch the event. He paid his cable company a hundred bucks to beam it into his living room. He wouldn’t take my offer of money, so I brought a bottle of booze to help punch up the evening festivities during the pay-per-view in high def.

There were more than a dozen people in the apartment, and all at first were excited to be witnesses to this heavily-hyped, historic live event. They cheered and jeered as the pre-fight gab and images of movie stars and rock stars  flashed on the screen.

Then the action began. Rather, it was the inaction. The boxers sparred around, with Floyd Mayweather constantly pedaling backward on an imaginary bike. Manny Pacquiao squinted with determination and flailed out into the air in his frustration in not being able to hit his elusive opponent.

The miss-labeled Fight of the Century, often resembling a 1930s MGM dance performance by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, went on for 12 boring rounds. Ginger could have taken lessons in dancing backward from the fleet-footed Floyd. The live terpsichory performance we watched on fight night earned all jeers from the people around me who witnessed the boring performance on TV.

We can safely assume many other home TV watchers were not happy with what cost them $100. However, others were enormously satisfied. Las Vegas hotels, hot spots and hookers had raised prices several hundred percent to fleece the thousands of people who came to town for the epic battle.

According to news reports, the total payout was around $300 million, with winner Mayweather taking home about $180 million and the loser, poor Pacquiao left with a measly $120 million.

I didn’t bet on the fight, so I didn’t win nor lose any money. My lingering regrets are that I wasted an evening and the price of a bottle of booze.

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