Forget, if you can, that sad and limited group of considerations that say two fighters from different sports, eras and weight classes can never meet in anger. Disregard the idea that says, “It would never happen because…”
This kind of thinking has no place in the Theater of the Bizarre.
Instead, once again, let your imagination run riot through the streets of unfounded assumption, pulling you toward a gathering of like minds, converging at the intersection of Counter Ave. and Factual Blvd. This is a stage where fights unfold due to the virtue of violence. Two authors come together to do their worst to each other, just to see who is best.
Of course, there is always at least one caveat per fight; perhaps it is the size of the gloves or the duration of the rounds. Perhaps it is the number of rounds, the venue or even the application of rules that reign in contrast to the combatants.
At least one circumstance always prevails amid the chaos.
And the bout in question this evening? The outspoken, brash and brilliant Floyd Mayweather Jr. faces the calm, collected and violent Jose Aldo. The action is called in typical play-by-play style.
Floyd Mayweather Jr. vs. Jose Aldo
Caveats: 1935, Madison Square Garden, four-oz. MMA gloves, Thai boxing rules allowed, no submissions or takedowns, 15 five-minute rounds.
Advantages for Mayweather: experience, elite conditioning, brilliant defensive abilities, speed, footwork, flawless boxing skills.
Advantages for Aldo: explosiveness, speed, KO power, brutal leg kicks, knees, elbows, control of the distance, conditioning.
It’s hot here in Madison Square Garden, and the bowtie-and-suit crowd is elbow-to-elbow with the blue collars as Floyd Mayweather Jr.—one of the greatest boxers of his generation—and Jose Aldo—equally great in his own right—stand in their corners under the hot lights, waiting for the microphone to be lowered into the hands of the ring announcer.
The size of their gloves is the first thing people are noticing, but in truth they aren’t that much smaller than the normal gloves of the era.
No one is sure how this old-time crowd is going to react, but they know what they bought tickets for: a fight. Some people are saying that Mayweather should be replaced with Fritzie Zivic, perhaps one of the roughest and dirties fighters of all time.
“Fritzie would show ‘em a thing or two if they started that sissy kicking!”
It’s a line that gets a lot of laughs, but I doubt Zivic could get close enough to Aldo to maul him with his artistic brand of fouling. This is going to be a shock for a lot of these fans, and for the first time in a long time, Mayweather may get to wear the white hat as a boxer standing tall against the unfamiliar.
The microphone is lowered, and ring announcer Joseph Humphreys announces the fighters to the murmuring crowd of more than 10,000. No one knows these fighters, and perhaps that is for the best; in a fight like this—where the conventional is turned on its head—neither fighter should rely upon hype or reputation to do his work for him.
The referee calls them both to the center of the ring to go over the rules (and we hope he understands them as well if he’s going to be enforcing them). Mayweather glares at Aldo, who in turn simply looks down at his feet, listing side to side.
Both men are dismissed to their corners, and a surprising swell in volume comes from the crowd. Perhaps the prospect of seeing a violent spectacle of unknown origin is drawing their attention. Whatever it is, no one is making jokes anymore.
The bell is about to ring…