It's late as fwock...but...it's Wacko's Drunken Weekend in Vegas. Oscar vs Floyd
**Alright…before anyone get’s into this long read…this thing was hammered out when I was really hammered & it really aint that great of a read…but it is what it is. I know it’s late…but again…I figured everyone was all talked out.
The HBO PPV Replay is coming on Saturday night…so let’s see how close my drunken coverage was.
Heh heh heh.
Cheers & koneecheewah bitches.
WACKO'S DRUNKEN WEEKEND IN VEGAS
Throughout one’s life as a boxing fan he or she will make certain sacrifices…sometimes out of stupidity, sometimes out of loyalty for his or her favorite fighter, or sometimes just for the sake of boxing in general.
Being quite honest with you my, fellow boxing enthusiasts, it’d be hard for this me…this die hard fan…to put his finger on one particular reason that I quite literally busted the bank and sold my soul to make it to the match that the whole World had been Awaiting…or so it has been sold to us all.
Maybe it was stupidity, maybe it was loyalty, maybe it was for the sake of boxing in general…but in the end this writer’s gonna have to say that it was all of the above and the oh so sweet call of lady luck herself. Yes siree boys and girls, while I have to admit that the salivating match up of Floyd Mayweather jr. being pushed shoulder to shoulder around a square circle by Oscar de la Hoya for twelve rounds was enough to break the bank, Las Vegas, Nevada played a huge role in drawing me away from my everyday responsibilities.
Personally…critics be damned…I say that it was worth it…& I aint even in my fwockin seat yet!
For those of you who have never seen the dirty side of Vegas, up close and personal, well you haven‘t lived a full life my friends or as they say in so many poorly scripted cop drama’s…”You‘ve yet to get your hands dirty.”
While most articles you’ll be scanning through, after the fact, will be dedicated to the fight itself…this aint gonna be one of them…at least not 100%. You see…this was being sold as the fight of the decade…maybe even the century…so press credentials were basically impossible to come by for yee ole‘ Wack.
This isn’t to the point coverage…so either you sit back and relax and you take in merely a drunken fan’s word for it all…or you just click your mouse, skip this post, and change the browser because this is a run down of Wacko’s Drunken Weekend in Vegas.
Not so much an article…or even a professional write up…but more…an accounting of what happened when, why, & how & the standard hammer type of Wacko’s Drunken Round by Round.
Our night begins in Charlotte, North Carolina in a local Sushi bar as we pass the time waiting for the morning to arrive and a long long flight to the last weigh in & presser before the match. Seven pots of Saki later and a boatload of raw fish…wer’e off to another restless nights sleep prior to the event.
Much to my dismay the airport put the ole’ kibosh on this writer and wannabe photographer from making it to the public weigh in which should happen around 2 p.m. in the MGM Grand Garden Arena on Friday. A minor storm scuffles the flights & delays us in just an hour’s worth of time…we miss the weigh in & pass off about $125 worth of quarters at the slot machine.
My daddy always said that anything that backs itself up against a wall & takes on the world is an unbeatable machine & only a fool would challenge it…he’d be right…but again…it’s only quarters…& what else does the drunken one have to do?
Due to the delays…a disturbing chain of events that leads up to me missing the weigh in…it just so happens that Wacko & the wife have plans to head on over to the local multi-plex cinema and catch the premier of Spiderman III. Look…I aint one to lie…honestly…I’m much more thrilled about watching the ole’ web head duke it out against the Sandman, Venom, and Harry Osbourne…aka the Green Goblin II than stand in the heat sober waiting on Floyd & Oscar rehash the HBO 24/7 special. Been there…fwockin done that..
So…what’s done is done. We missed the weigh in, fly the flight, & after a lot of hustle and bustle over me lugging a mega bag onto the plane stuffed with Wacko’s trusty lap top, the new Cannon, and all the clothes that can be stuffed into one bag…we’ve landed…skipped seating through Spidey III, adjusted to the Vegas cab rides & combative human beings courtesy of a shitload of free liquor on the plane & at the quarter machines…whom I might add have already owned my a** due to my bitterness over the fact that no professional electronic devises are allowed into the fight.
So…what does one do when he or she has cashed his a** out on a $2,000+ ticket for a fight, a plane ticket, & a no camera…no $1500+ camera & $225 dollar hands free recording equipement can’t be used?
Well…he eats about $125 worth of raw fish on the first days arrival…plans a weekend trip & pisses the wife off…so…off we go.
I’m not sure if anyone out there is as “monetarily retarded” as Wacko over a match up…but this may very well be the greatest fight of the last ten years…or the biggest bust of the last ten. We shall see.
Yeah…so anywho…the ride, cash/liquor flow, & thrills of the rollercoaster ride that is Las Vegas coupled with thoughts of the outcome of this match up is keeping me from sleepin…so off to the slots we go & all the free booze I can handle…& it was a lot. Woke up Saturday & rolled outta the bed in the lavish accomodations of the MGM Grand Signature Suites. First & foremost…if you go to Vegas…I recommend this place the fullest. Amazing. Nice balcony views, booty bumpin’ hot tub, fridge, plasma screen in both the bed & bath…no S***…it was heaven.
Saturday night is just around the corner.
As cliché as it sounds…the stirp is bustling with the electricity of the fight. No S***. Really. Evetryone seems to be on the waiting edge of the fight. The sports bookies are bankin on Oscar & the odds have shifted a bit more in his favor. The Mexican American crowd is a bit overly combative, IWO, in hopes that Oscar pulls this one out. The African American crowd is pushing so much bling & bullshit that one wonders how many fights will breakout during the fight.
Only an hour away to see.
After heading over & watching dolphins & lions & no bears (oh my!) at the MGM Secret Garden the wife & I drop some more cash at the slots & ole’ Wacko plans on hedging a bet on Floyd. As I head over to do so…there’s a rumor circulating around that Floyd is coming in with the Mexican flag or some S*** like that & that Oscar has stated hill will stop Floyd in 6 rounds or less.
With that little tid bit of info…I tuck my balls & skip on placing a bet on Floyd or Oscar & haul a** over to the grand & plop down early for the fights. It’s amazing as hell…but the magnitude of this match just won’t be done justice on PPV television…I can not stress the fact that I’m overly thrilled as S*** that I came. It’s already been worth every penny no matter who does what to whom & I aint even seen that yet.
Much to my utter joy & surprise…I exchange the digital audio recorder with my cell phone & tuck it into my shorts. It’s plastic & when they wand me…the only thing that beeps is my belt…thanks to the lord above…they let me walk through. On go the headphones & the DRBR is going to be in full session.
Second times a charm as the joy & surprise-ometer goes offa the charts!!! These fwockers are servin liquor up top instead of just beers…I purchase 2 doubles, a $30 program, a $35 dollar hat, & 4 $25 shirts & head to my seat.
Unfortunately…I was pretty much sloshed coming into the arena…so the double Margaritas make it a bit difficult for my drunken a** to come together like butt cheeks & find the correct seat. After being bumped twice by annoyed patrons…I finally locate my row & again…much to my utter joy & surprise…I’m about 8 rows back from the ring.
No joke…even though I’m disgusted that I couldn’t take in a camera I‘m thrilled shitless just to have my hands free recorder & be a part of history…& it is a glorious experience in the making. Wacko‘s proud to be here…even though I almost had to sell my liver to get this seat…& it‘s a good thing that I didn‘t sell the ole‘ liver…because I‘ve almost drank it bloody.
Anywho…the scope & magnitude of the promotion is bordering on nearly unbelievable. Looking back over me drunken shoulders…I can see that even the nose bleed seats are starting to fill up & I am bottle tossing distance of the ring with a b-e-a-utiful view from the floor.
Again…worth every amount of cash that I dropped.
The under card plays out just fine.
The Boom Boom fight was fantastic & the Juarez fight was so-so. For some reason…I just can’t get behind Rocky…& I don’t mean get behind him in a CuteMick kind of way. Juarez, he dropped his man in the first & then let him off the hook for the duration.
Sitting in the crowd I was located between a large crowd of Latino’s & an even larger number of African Americans.
Now…before you go any further with this read…I want to say this…I’m no racist…& I have never said anything like this before…but last night…I was DISGUSTED with the Mexican fight fans. Number one…when the first match began it was apparent that the majority of them knew NOTHING about boxing. Between them throwing racial slurs towards the people in front of me of my cursing & spilling beer all over every gotdam thing that I owned…I really wanted to just get up & walk out.
While discussing Floyd prior to his arrival…I heard the N-bomb more times than I heard them use the F-bomb…& believe me…they blew the joint up with both of them all night long. Even their spouses/women grew tired of it…but you can only imagine that it was on when Floyd walked in with the sombrero & Mexican colors.
Addressing that…anyone that doesn’t believe that he & Oscar put that S*** together…your’e fooling yourselves. Floyd’s people did that in the past & it got the same gut reactions from the crowd. That was the selling point of the show & whether Latino fans want to admit…Floyd did the colors justice.
Never did Floyd not stand & fight…& for that…I once again stamp in bold letters my dedication as a FLOYD MAYWEATHER JR FAN.
Now…that being said…honestly…I was disappointed in Oscar after the 5th round on. While he landed the here & there bomb…he ate more of Floyd’s right hook than he threw his own jab. Oscar could have gamely controlled Floyd had he used his jab but after the middle rounds he had no answer for Floyds speed & defense. Honestly…I was shocked that Floyd hurt Oscar as many times as he did & Floyd’s punches sounded incredibly thud dish from the ring.
Never beg a 40 dollar hooker...specially after she's just turned down your mom's credit card!!
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