If Floyd Mayweather was a writer
- Who would you be if you were another you?
Sure, OK. It’s violent as all hell. But I’m quite sure even in hell some things might appear to be beautiful. After all, I’m told Lucifer was the most beautiful of angels before…
OK maybe that’s not the way I want to approach this. Rewind.
Boxing is brutal and I frankly don’t care. I like it. Love it in fact. Always have. Ever since the days of Ali, Frazier, Sugar Ray Leonard, Mike Tyson, Tommy Hearns, and even the movies. Rocky. Raging Bull. Two totally different yet (in my mind) fantastic movies examining the appeal of the same bucket of blood, the same damaged bags of flesh and bone because…
If Floyd Mayweather was a writer he would be Shakespeare
I suppose if I were more, hell, I dunno, if I were more ‘elevated’ in my thinking in the way that certain types believe a more advanced civilization should function, then I suppose I would be appalled at the fact that yes, today, in 2013, so very long after the era of ancient Rome and the bloody theater of the coliseum and the lions, we are still paying good money to watch two human beings pound the living shit out of one another for spectacle and for show. For our own gleeful entertainment, as we imagine how it must feel to be able to do that to someone we don’t particularly like. Because deep down, we all at some point have wished that we were suitably equipped to beat somebody else’s ass but good, and we would do it for free.
But never mind that right now. No need for mirrors. Self examination is for punks, and we all know what happens to punks, don’t we? Because a punk, by any other name (call him/she/heshe a rose or a rock if you like) is a target for scorn, and nobody likes to be scorned – especially not by one’s own self.
If Floyd Mayweather was a writer he would be Shakespeare.
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