By Michael Marley

Can Manny Pacquiao beat these people out for the Time 100 list.

Let’s get the focus off Ricky Hatton. He is a non-starter. Ditto for Juan Manuel Marquez and even the redoubtable Floyd Mayweather Jr.

Manny Pacquiao will make time, beatdown time, for those brothers later but right now MP is in the fight of his political life and his real competition includes Oprah Winfrey, Clint Eastwood, Tiger Woods, Hillary Clinton, Barack and Michele Obama, Monster Bernie Madoff, Prince Formerly Known Some Nutty Symbol, Vladimir Putin, teen siren Miley Cyrus and Kobe Bryant.

Finally, the world’s premier junior welterweight takes on the world’ s real heavyweights in an effort to become one of the 2009 Time magazine’s top 100 most influential people in the world.

It’s time for all good Pac fans to come to the aid of their hero. This is my reveille, my wakeup for all, Pinoys and non-Pinoys alike, to get ready to click for their superstar into the top 100 (vote here now and often).

I’ve done my civic duty. And, like one of the old Mayor Daley’s “deceased” voters who flooded the ballot box in Cook County and gave Chicago to John Kennedy over Richard Nixon in 1960, I plan on voting again and again and again.

I pulled the lever for Manny Pacquiao. There can be hanging chads, no uncounted votes, because boxing fans must unite—Pacfans, Pacnuthuggers and even Pachaters—to make sure that the Pinoy idol finishes in the top 100.

I make no bones about it and neither do Pacquiao disciples, better known by the shorthand name of Pacland. That, of course, being the Mecca or The Vatican for all who worship at the tiny feet of the Revered One.

We’re stuffing the box. We’re putting the fix in. Each and every one of us whose lives has been affected by the POP (Power of Pacquiao) owe Megamanny that. Set the voting meter to the 100 level and click, click, click and click again. Take a brief rest, have a coffee or some green tea, and then go back to clicking some more.

Big shoutout to Pacland comment poster “Ron Chimata” who craftily advises all Pacman voters on how he put the kibosh on Manny competitors. Simply, vote for others but give them a “1” rating even as you’ve given MP your “100” votes. Remember, the more votes the merrier.

This is more important than your silly job, your friends and even your family. This is a worthwhile crusade.
The reasons that Manny is influential, so deserving, are so obvious that Stevie Wonder can see them.

The latest polling data looks good if not great.

Oprah, the yo-yo- dieter and billionaire, is only slightly ahead of Pacman’s 62,360 votes. Evil incarnate Madoff is a few votes ahead of MP. And first Lady Obama is tracking behind at 57,578 votes.

Even the Octomom, aka Fertile Myrtle, is on the ballot although her social significance escapes me. She belongs in a nut hut not in this prestigious poll.

I decided to look on the list for people we can knock off so as to increase the chances of Pacman making the final cut.

It’s my theory that sports fans will vote for superstars in that category and probably skip the others.

So who can we throw some dirt, or in the case of Michael “Bong Hit” Phelps, some Thai stick on? Sad to report, though, at this point the Olympic swimmer has Pacman under water by more than 10,000 votes. Time to get into the political pool, Pacman supporters, and start stroking.

I start with the baseball hobo and Madonna lover, Alex Rodriguez. As a certified New York Yankee hater and Red Sox fan, I come with an admitted prejudice.

But I can be fair and I sometimes dream of Derek Jeter wearing the Bosox uniform. But A-Roid, the “boli” injector, as influential? He’s only a bad influence in his own clubhouse where, as Joe Torre’s new book attests, his colleagues called him “A-Fraud” to his face and behind his back.

To paraphrase Reggie Jackson, Mr. October, Jeter is the straw the stirs the drink and the selfish, always looking in the vanity mirror Rodriguez, he’s a great player but he can only stir it bad.

I will be glad to vote for A-Rod when Time does its Most Self Obsessed and Unaware Celebrity poll.

As for Kobe and the LA Fakers, I’ve got two words, take your choice of two pairs, why no one should vote for him. Paul and Pierce or Boston and Celtics, take your green choice.

As for Lance Armstrong, I hear the cyclist is really pushing hard to win this honor. They say that Mr. Livestrong is peddling his ass all over town to campaign. I say any guy who couldn’t keep Sheryl Crow content does not deserve my vote on a Tuesday night or any other.

Okay, now who else can we eliminate to boost the kid from Gensan?

Yesterday’s news John McCain has nearly 60,000 votes. I bet most are from Palin punks in Alaska, shut ins who can’t get out of their igloos yet due to the snowpack.
Don’t waste a vote on him. I sure didn’t in November when Barack rolled over him like Manny rolled over David Diaz.
Pope Benedict XVI? Well, bless me father, but I don’t think you’re having such a celestial year so far. You’re out also. I am giving up voting for the Holy Father for Lent.

The Twitter Guys? I guess Time ran out of real candidates.
Jim Cramer, the stock market screamer? He helped many suckers turn their 401Ks into 201Ks and worse. This guy has been completely exposed and his influence level is below zero these days. Jon Stewart just ripped him apart.
No brainer for no vote for this cat.

Not being picked as one of the elite influentials will give him something else to scream about.

This being politricks, where dirty pool is everybody’s style, let’s tear down all the other candidates so as to increase Packy’s elective chances.

On the other hand, let’s leave Clint Eastwood be as “Gran Torino” showed me he is very old but still very bold. I’m not looking to look down the barrel of Dirty Harry Callahan’s cannon if you know what I mean.

Come to think of it, many comparisons can be made between Dirty Harry and Pristine Manny but I will save that for another edition of Boxingconfidential.com and Examiner.com.

It’s just too bad people couldn’t vote as many as times as they wanted to when Packy lost that local congressional election to Darling Darlene back home. Of course, I lost interest in her when I read the she is married and a very reputable lady. I mean, how far can such a person go in the political jungle?

Btw, not to rub her nose in it but I don’t see Darling Darlene’s name on the list. In fact, GMA isn’t on the list, either, although I am sure this is an oversight. (I know I will be invited to tea at Malacanang Palace on my upcoming trip to Manila and I must not offend.)

Finally, it’s too bad that all the candidates are not divided by Time’s categories—Leaders & Revolutionaries, Heroes & Pioneers, Scientists & Thinkers, Artists & Entertainers, Builders & Titans and On The red Carpet—because a formidable argument can be that Senor Pacquiao belongs in all of them.

I know our Houston Boxing Examiner, the professional Marv Dumon and San Francisco Boxing Examiner and veteran scribe Colin Seymour, both have my back on that. In fact, they are probably clicking away in the Time poll even as you read this.

The rap singer and songwriter with the high-pitched voice. T-Pain, is on the list but imagine the real pain we will all feel if he somehow beats out Megamanny.

The same for media titan Rupert Murdoch. When his name was on my paychecks at The New York Post, I worshipped the red carpets he walked on but these days he just doesn’t carry the worldwide weight that Pacman does. Somehow, I think Mr. Murdoch’s beautiful Asian wife would agree.
When it comes to Vladimir Putin, him I’m disputing like Rasputin.

There you have it. An informed electorate is an electorate that will swamp Time’s e-voting box with Pacquiao ballots, all at the “100 level.”

This is just a little but vital primary, my friends and fellow Pacaholics.

Once we nail this down, with all the fingerpower and chicanery we can must muster from our worldwide forces, it’s on to the Big Prize.

For your consideration, Time’s Person of the Year for 2009?

I will give you one guess, my brothers and sisters in Pacmania.

His initials are MP.

(Michael Marley is a registered donkey-loving Democrat who always votes in Massachusetts for the Kennedy of his choice.)

By Michael Marley

(Editor’s Note: Even a White House correspondent writes or talks about someone or something other than the president once in a while. In that vein, in the spirit of mixing it up, I, Perry White have ordered Michael Marley to write an article that completely ignores Tuk Tuk Driver beating Edwin Valero and to only parenthetically mention boxing’s equivalent of Barack Obama, meaning Manny Pacquiao.)

Great Julio Cesar Chavez’s ghost. Now even the Big Chief, the boss with the hot sauce, is exhausted with all the Pacman and Valero articles. So now I will switch gears and scribble about a shy, retiring lad named Floyd Mayweather Jr.

I have to tip my sombrero, as we near the Infernal Revenue Service annual filing deadline of April 15, to Mayweather .

Even as he ruled supreme as the world’s best, pound for pound fighter—Baddest Little Man on the Planet—Mayweather usually had to wear the black hat.

It really didn’t matter who the opponent was. Mayweather, who often comes off as flip and arrogant when he is just being his supremely confident and assertive self, was always cast as the heel, as the bad guy opposite the hero like in pro rassling.

If Oscar De La Hoya was the shining Golden Boy, then Mayweather was Negative Guy, the cock of the walk who said there is no man alive who could come close to matching his awesome ring skills.

Mayweather brilliantly flipped the script when he and his pugilistic posse showed up for his one-sided decision over Oscar wearing their red, white and green “Mayweather Loves Mexico” attire.

But, if anything, that just incited the Mayweather haters, and they are legion, even more. Some mistakenly thought Mayweather and his crew were disrespecting a great country and its historic roll call of great boxers.

That kind of misunderstanding won’t happen in Mayweather’s comeback. Money May? No, call him Money Will Fight due to heavy, overdue obligations to a real villain, the IRS.

I don’t think Floyd and his minions will put on Uncle Sam outfits for fight night but, other than the creeps at AIG and Bernie Madoff, I cannot think of a foe Mayweather could find who would be less popular than the federal government’s tax collection bureaucracy.

His duel with the IRS should even bring Mayweather fans who never would’ve given him a second look before.

How many men and women do you know who have battled off a tax lien or who missed a tax payment here and there and then got dunned incessantly?

How many fine, upstanding citizens have been drilled by late filing fees and other assorted penalties by the merciless agency?

You want to talk about killer instinct, the IRS invented it.

I can hear all the tax debtors, all the people who been audited, cheering wildly for Mayweather now.

The IRS is not a if you can’t beat them, join them type group. You can’t beat them, as Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Robinson and so many other great fighters learned the hard way, so you keep on fighting and pay them as best you can.

I mean, who will ever boo Mayweather again?

I, for one, will applaud Floyd now before every fight although I think we must start referring to him as Money Must Pay.

In the press section, by tradition, we are honor bound not cheer or boo either boxer.

But, when it comes to Mayweather vs. IRS, I will cheer Floyd silently.

On the great night when Mayweather fights Pacquiao, I will remain completely neutral.

Mark it down, I’m not some slobbering Pachugger. Write it down because I, for one, will be as neutral on that fight as every man, woman and child in Gensan.

At least for now, and for a refreshing change, Mayweather rides the white horse, wears the white hat and probably eats angel’s food cake.

I mention the latter because his toughest opponent is the devil.

I suppose I’m being a little unfair to the devil now that I think about it.

By AL S. MENDOZA

REMEMBER the celebrated haggling over the purse figures in the Pacquiao-Hatton fight on May 2 in Las Vegas?

From 60-40 with the English ” Hitman” in the lower end of the deal, it became 52-48 in favor of Pacquiao.

How did it happen?

Someone far from us but whose heart is closer to home than your Reluctant Mr. Immigrant helped author the coup de grace.

I refer to Hermie Rivera, who stays mostly now in that charming city of Newark in San Francisco but whose links with boxing is as eternal as time.

Rivera it was who sowed the seeds that made Manny Pacquiao richer by yet another $2.9 million – at the very least.

Filipino pride was chief fodder for the cannon.

And Hermie was in the thick of things to bolster Pinoy dignity on the world stage.

It happened one lazy day in faraway Mindanao.

Pacquiao was playing basketball in GenSan, the city of his affections. During a timeout, Jeng Gacal, the Ilocano Ingredient in the Pacman Team, approached the National Punch.

“Let’s go for it,” said Jeng, the noted lawyer-adviser of Pacquiao. “It’s 52-48 or nothing.”

Jeng was echoing Hermie’s line relayed by e-mail on January 14.

“Their ‘50-50 deal or nothing stuff’ is pure bluff,” said Jeng to Manny. “Stick to 52-48 or nothing.”

Pacquiao got the 52-48 deal and the rest, as we love to say, is history.

Hermie, because he is a grizzled boxing icon himself, knows the wheeling and dealing in the often sleazy world of boxing.

In case you’ve forgotten, he has produced two world champions: Luisito Espinosa and Morris East.

No doubt Pacquiao is up there.

But unbeknownst to him, a hero could still pop up from the cold on his behalf.

For, despite its “red-light district” tag in sports, boxing will always produce an unsung hero.

Photo by Noel Rivera

By Hermie Rivera

New Year and new enemy for the Philippines boxing hero Manny Pacquiao.

This, as he battles the British hitman Ricky Hatton in a no-frills punch-out in Las Vegas , Nevada .

After heated negotiations on how to split the pie, both camps settled for an equitable sharing of their huge pot.

That’s the latest word from the promoters—extras remain hidden.

Everybody happy?

You betcha.

Oscar de la Hoya wants it at the site of his past debacles against Bernard Hopkins, Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao, three of his noted tormentors.

Remember when we batted for a Pac/Hat match but got waylaid for a dream ‘mismatch’?

We failed to land last year’s one-sided thriller owing to Oscar’s insistence in getting hammered ahead of the Briton—an 8th round battering courtesy of the Filipino nonpareil.

In Hatton, Pacquiao is wary of a threat to his fabled pound-for-pound edge due to the Brit’s consistency in mauling his victims.

But that’s the least of Manny’s worries as he winds-up his party days preparatory to his going into training at his Hollywood camp.

Hatton is set to do his thing at a Las Vegas gym with his wily trainer or is it a stand-up comic named Floyd Mayweather Senior after a three week stint as his Manchester sweatshop.

Kayoed by Floyd Mayweather Junior, the Bristish-puncher is aching to end Manny’s reign of torture on elite jr.-lightweights Marco Barrera, Erik Morales, Juan Marquez, lightweight David Diaz and welterweight Oscar de la Heist—oops—Hoya.

That’s clear in Hatton’s plans as laid out by his handlers who are zeroing in on Pacquiao’s 6th round demise.

Well, it could happen if the game Mancunian gets lucky in knocking out with hell-fire bombs the GenSan Pacman.

“Mission Impossible” you Ricky lovers: Manny is guaranteeing his presence at the May 2,2009 slugfest—to quell any of Hatton’s onslaughts so as to beat him silly period.

Folks, this is a fistic opera Manny and Ricky are conjuring from your pet hub where brutal punching is the main entrée.

Any of the two licensed Filipino or English combatants need to win big in this potboiler for the glories (read that (ital) lotsa monies) ahead.

This early, an English boxing scribe is bragging what he calls Ricky’s all-out drive to rough up Manny with guiles from his dirty-tricks manual.

Interesting.

What’s more of a certainty, by our reckoning, are vicious toe-to-toe exchanges that will ratchet the action when the obliging warriors devour each other for 12 rounds or less at the MGM Grand Arena.

If Hatton gets lucky and upsets the favored Pacquiao—knighthood—to be administered by Queen Elizabeth.

Manny beats Ricky gets a congressional seat—replete with treasured kisses and then some from his own Queen Elizabeth.

Photo by Noel Rivera

At 34, two-time world champion Luisito Espinosa is lacing up the gloves again — after he does the laundry and takes care of the kids, that is

By Cicero A. Estrella, Chronicle Staff Writer

The door of the white minivan slid open and four pint-size pre-schoolers scattered onto the asphalt parking lot ahead of Luisito Espinosa.

Don’t get the wrong idea, though. Espinosa is not a soccer dad. The Pacifica resident is a boxer, and he and his management team were not driving their kids to practice, but toting them along so that Espinosa might squeeze in an early afternoon workout at a Daly City gym.

Such is life for Espinosa, a two-time world champion. There are are no more hangers-on, no fancy modes of transport, no big-money contracts. Heck, there is not even a baby-sitter, so his 2-year-old daughter, Janica, as well as the son and two nephews of his manager, occasionally accompanies Espinosa to the gym.

The nontraditional boxing entourage suits Espinosa. He has twice reached the summit of his sport, but life is fine the way it is now as he starts from scratch at the age of 34 to rebuild his name and reputation within the what- have-you-done-lately boxing community.

The source of inspiration for Espinosa’s comeback is family. Not only his immediate family, but also the extended members, his management team, with whom he was recently reunited.

Back in the fold as adviser is Hermie Rivera, the man who discovered Espinosa in the Philippines and served as his first manager. Noel Rivera, Hermie’s son, has taken over as manager.
Hermie Rivera first brought Espinosa to the United States from Manila in 1986. He became close friends with Rivera’s sons, Noel, Andy and J.J.

“I’m happy because of my team,” Espinosa said through a translator in his native language, Tagalog. “I don’t worry about the people around me. If there was one person I didn’t get along with with former management teams, I got lazy. But now we’re complete.”

Full story in San Francisco Chronicle

By Hermie Rivera

Dear Manny,

The promoters are back with their gimmicks, latest of which is a subtle threat for you to accept their new demands.

Top Rank’s Bob Arum for one is calling for an L.A. meeting ostensibly to impose his long- pending card involving his wards, ( Edwin Valero and Humberto Soto.)

In the event this meeting happens, be prepared to answer questions obliging you to either fight one of his “ready to be slaughtered fighters” or agree to the 52-48 split of the Pac/Hat mega-pie.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Golden Boy Promotions are peddling the tale that Oscar de la Hoya will take on Ricky Hatton in England.

If so. will Hatton fight De La Hoya at 147 lbs? Or will Oscar go down to 140 pounds?

“Prepesterous” says one ill-informed fan.

Last we witnessed was the total destruction of Ricky by Floyd Mayweather Jr.at 147 pounds.

When I first heard of this proposal, two key points came to mind: Primero: is Oscar fit to fight Ricky in May after a severe or was it thorough-drubbing he got from Manny?

Segundo, Ricky’s disdain for a higher weight class to engage Oscar is foremost in his mind— what with his gruesome KO by Floyd— his lone loss in his checkered yet oft-times sensational career.

The other possibility they are toying with is for a rematch with Floyd Jr., a situation which entails difficulty for the Mancunian dynamo.

This fight is not going to happen either!

Neither is the winner being offered to you lest you’ll wind-up visiting a morgue (heavens forbid) instead of a vet’s clinic.

Pretty Boy Floyd Jr cannot make 140 and will insist on his usual 147 lbs or higher marks if ever he comes back— Internal Revenue Service tax-hounds notwithstanding.

But, if Mayweather had his druthers, he’ll opt for the Pinoy hero since Oscar would’nt dare get to Floyd at this time owing to his abysmal showing against you— the rampaging GenSan ‘cinderella’ man who’s on an absolute roll or tear as the case maybe.

And so Manny if I may; stick to your stand: that the Hatton group must decide whether to fight at your prescribed 55-45 split of the entire proceeds or have their Hitman  engage a lifetime career of a not so funny  comedian.

Manny, it was truly inspiring when you intoned: “Good luck sa plinaplano nilang laban nina  Oscar, Ricky, Floyd Jr. atbpa.

Hari-nawa, maging successful ang promotions nila.

As for me, I remain steadfast on my request for respectability.

Kung iyan ay ipagdadamot pa nila—-so be it..

I’ll go on seeking what’s right and proper kahit sino pa dian ang masaktan.”

Till here Manny—as always —keep punchin’.

Cordially,

Hermie Rivera

By Michael Marley

When he’s got an opponent in trouble, Manny Pacquaio instinctively knows what to do.

He comes forward with fire and fury, pressing that advantage to the fullest.

That’s what the Pacman needs to do now as the haggling over the May 2 super bout with Ricky Hatton drags.

I see Bob Arum complaining about Megamanny and his inner circle “negotiating through the media.” That makes me laugh as American athletes and agents are experts in doing just that.

Uncle Bob is a master at the same. Sometimes, I think baseball uber agent Scott Boras has taken a page or two out of the Don King or Arum media playbooks.

Maybe Uncle needs to be reminded that pacman lawyer Franlin Jacal works for his client and is not in the employ of Top Rank. Ditto for adviser Wakee Salud.

Even the Candian recluse Michael Koncz seems to have taken Manny’s side in demanding more upside than the 50-50 revenue split Team Hatton offered.

Now the Hattonites offer Pacquiao a 52-48 money edge and expect him to jump for joy, grab a contact singing pen and begin the publicity tour. Manchester here we come!

This time around, though, Pacman and his boys have flipped the script. No longer the docile, pliant Pinoy, Pacquiao demands full value for services rendered and for his awesome in ring prior accomplishments.

I say go for it, Manny, go for the knockout. They’ve conceded the 52-48, they caved once and now you can easily get the 55-45 division of all the money.

If you go for the jugular, you’ll set a great precedent for yourself and maybe for a future Manny Pacquiao ring hero.

The Casper Milquetoasts will tell you to cut and run, to put your John Hancock on the paper before Ray Hatton and his Golden Boys snatch the new offer away.

Don’t give Hatton a chance to walk, the cowards say. Come on, the Hatton side does not have a Plan F let alone a Plan B.

They’ve got no royalty, only jokers in their deck. Last week, Hatton’s lawyer was going to sue you and now butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Word is the Hatton camp, the Goldens and Arum are all “annoyed” that you did not roll over and take the 50-50.

Isn’t that shame. Maybe they can make a movie about that, perhaps call it “White Men Can’t Slump” or something.

You and your family won’t be getting any retirement benefits, 401K’s or pensions from multijillionaires named De La Hoya or Arum.

Arum’s been pulling in the promotional cash since Ali-Chuvalo, Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto, 1966.

Uncle Bob is on a 43-year run. When every fight is over, he goes to the bank.

You’ve done good in standing up this time, Pacman.

Now you need to close the show and get your rightful, eminently fair 55-45 split.

The Hattons, the Goldens, Arum…they’re all on the ropes now, champ.

Press on like De La Hoya for his own purses and like Floyd Mayweather Jr. always does. Squeeze them while you can.

Don’t settle for a decision, go for the mercenary KO.

This has nothing to do with sports. This is all about a brutal business.

By Michael Marley

They say that British humor is an acquired taste. I suppose finding it funny is like being accustomed to the sickening taste of Vegemite.

But let’s stop with the jokes about that guy, “another opponent,” who the Ricky Hatton threatens to put into the ring to replace Manny Pacquiao.

The Hatton camp, caught in a baldfaced lie, claims it has a ready made substitute foe who it can plug in and draw 80,000 paying customers to watch the mystery man (TBA or TBD?) fight Hatton.

Don’t ask me how I did it because I’d have to kill you if I told you but I’ve gotten the names of the possible Pacman replacements:

1. Jim Nasium—Always works up a good sweat.
2. Manuel Labor—From south of the border.
3. Carmen Ghia—Got plenty of drive.
4. Mike Rofone—Great prefight talker.
5. Kenny Standup—Spent more time on canvas than Rembrandt.
6. Manuel Transmission—Said to be great ring mechanic.
7. Ben Dover—No chin, has been more times than ship with a drunken crew.
8. KO Pectate—Been known to clear out many an arena.
9. Chuck Roast—Ready to “meat” any tough foe.
10. Rick O’Shea—Dublin-based slugger on the rebound.
11. Paddy O’Furniture—So hardy he stays in backyard year round.
12. Billy Klubb—Former NYC cop has fists like nightsticks.

So you see, Pacman and Pacfans, the Hatton camp has plenty of options. It’s like me at breakfast when I can choose between Vegemite or Krazy Glue.