No Masians, wanted to share the Paul Williams videos we made for Everlast during their recent photo shoot at Gleason’s. In the main event, we have P-Will threatening to “retire” Winky, challenging Manny Pac, and sounding pessimistic about Cotto or Shane ever picking up his gauntlet.

Once again, we are gonna run a contest for Saturday night, and Large is gonna bless us with a full prognostification. Outcome predictions posted here will be eligible, and there will also be a prize for the best counter to Large’s analysis on Friday. Closest to the the winner and the round or the judges scorecards for a decision wins shirt of your choice. Hit it on the button and get five shirts of your choice or a shirt and a hoodie. Must post before the fight starts to win. Good luck good sirs.

After the jump are shorter topical clips, wherein we have Paul and his trainer George Peterson on the finer points of getting ducked, the secret origin of The Punisher, and the ol’ 1-2-3.
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Oh my people, what a night. Let me just put my apologies up top here for being MIA for a while and then get right to the good stuff. I have indeed been mired in some television-type business as I-berg pointed out, not to mention that I recently moved Mrs. Large and Reggie Large to a new house. Things have been non-stop. But I will tell you this – I’m going to be doing some fight-week reporting from San Jose next week for HBO leading up to next Saturday’s BAD card headlined by what promises to be a meanass smackdown, James Kirkland vs. Joel Julio. I will certainly bring some of that insider love here to the Mas.

It was impressive how much Diaz went for right from the opening bell. The kid was all the way down damn-the-torpedoes lane. There was a marked physical disparity in there too that I wasn’t expecting to see. Diaz looked considerably bigger, and with his relentless forward momentum, it felt a little like what in my memory Oscar/Floyd looked like in the first couple of rounds – a bigger man bum-rushing the shit out of a smaller man to the extent that the smaller guy, despite being the more skilled and savvy fighter, couldn’t help but seem concerned.

posted by Large

Let the Monday, or in this case, early Sunday morning quarterbacking begin. Plaster of Paris in his gloves? Looking more emaciated at 47 than De La Hoya did? And getting… knocked the fizznuck out??!?!!?! Jesus man, my head is spinning like I just got punched by Shane Mosley a couple hundred times.

Oh wait, that wasn’t me. That was Margarito.

Look, I sensed it, I even bet on it, and oh how I wish I’d had the nads to prognosticate on it because then I could get all “kneel before Zod” on my brothers here at the Mas and feel all righteous and Zodly (Ricky Roe can step up to that mike). As it is, all I can do is count my money and admit that though I certainly felt like Shane had a good chance, I never would have bet a red cent on him getting the stoppage, not in a million years.

In the very first round, I started to wonder, though, because it just didn’t look like a Tony Margs kind of affair. He always starts slow, but even then he’s stalking, moving forward at angles, geometrically trapping his man over and over again and forcing him to fight his way out of trouble.

Here, well, it was immediately apparent that Shane was stronger than Margs, and what’s more, he looked bigger, which was almost as bizarre as Pacquiao looking bigger than Oscar last month. And Shane used that advantage to good effect, stepping into Margo’s lunges rather than away from them and often just manhandling him around the ring. The pattern was established early, Shane letting Margs walk to him, getting off first (and second, and third…), and then smothering his man before he got any chance to work. Lather rinse repeat.

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posted by Large

I’m very surprised that the predominant attitude here at the Mas towards my Margs/Mosley part-one piece was along the lines of, ‘ninja please!” Seems as if the great mass of Masians don’t have much of a sweet tooth on this one, with none other than Ryan, our crack prognosticator on all things Margo, calling for Sugar Shane to get stopped in the ninth.

I certainly understand the sentiment. When trying to envision how a fight might go down, I always find it useful to entertain the possibility that each man might at least equal his finest performance and decide which fighter would prevail in that case. For Margarito, of course, that career performance is a fight we are exceedingly familiar with. And to put it plainly, if Margs pulls another Cotto-type night out of his ass, well, Shane Mosley will not be winning the fight, not if he goes into the ring riding a loaded rhinoceros. I think we all agree on that.

As for Mosley, his best outing was the first De La Hoya fight, I suppose, and that is probably what weighs down his chances in my mind more than anything. While Margarito’s greatest moment in the ring occurred six months ago, Shane’s is eight years gone. He did look mighty good against Cotto, mighty good indeed, but even that is over a year ago. And though he finished his most recent fight in style, it’s true that he had problems with Mayorga. To be fair, though, Mayorga will give you some problems, especially at 47, where he is gigantic. The man is awkward and strong and crazy. I get the sense that mixing it up with the Matador is like playing speed chess with someone who’s brazen but otherwise has no idea what he’s doing. People like that constantly mess with your rhythm because you’re used to your opponents doing things that make sense and these bold fools do everything wrong. It can take you a while to get the feel of that kind of game, and you can even get behind, despite the fact that you’re an infinitely superior player.

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posted by Large

After being told by Ring Lardner that he was betting heavy on Jess Willard to beat Jack Dempsey, Grantland Rice said, “I think you’re wrong Ring. An ox cannot defeat a tiger.”

At which point, W.O. McGeehan chimed in, “No, but an elephant sure as hell can.”

As far as De La Hoya/Pacquiao goes, I think what we’re dealing with is more in the territory of this exchange: A pit bull can defeat a mountain lion. But a bull terrier sure as hell can’t.

In other words, to bring us out of the zoo for a moment, the x factor is the size difference. It has been since day one and it remains the case the day before the fight. I’m eager to see video of the weigh-in (I’m not in Vegas yet, flying in tomorrow morning, keeping the trip short what with Reggie and all) just to look at their comparative hefts after they’ve made the weight (presuming they make the weight), because to this point when I picture the two men together in my mind, I see the big, bloated Oscar towering over the miniscule Manny as if they were brothers and Oscar is 15 and Manny is 8, and all I can think of as a bon mot in the grand tradition of Lardner and Rice is… an 8-year-old cannot defeat a 15-year-old unless he has a bazooka.

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