The only time Canelo ventures out of the friendly confines of the Little Mexico (Vegas) scene, is when the computer spits out an opponent with no chance and ripe for the picking. Then he goes running back home claiming some sort of legacy-building victory. If he doesn't drag Murata into catchweight waters... he'll dehydrate himself to 160... and blow up to 180+ on fight night.

The Pied Piper of Boxing continues playing his flute.... and the legions of blind fans continue to swallow the whole Hollywood hype job hook, line, and sinker. Talks of him fighting a real, live opponent will always be met with deaf ears, or the same ol' tired excuses we've always heard.

BTW..... how's that Franchise Champion ball of horseshit coming along?