Imagine Pacquiao vs. Hamed

In all the hub-hub surrounding Manny Pacquaio’s supposed ascension to the pound-for-pound top spot on the basis of his eighth-round stoppage of David Diaz for one version of the lightweight championship two weeks ago, my thoughts boxing wise have turned to a name from the not-so-distant past.

Remember Prince Naseem Hamed?

Go back to the late 1990s, up until April 2001, and Hamed was easily the hottest thing under welterweight in boxing — including Floyd Mayweather, Jr.

Back then Pacquaio was a no-name flyweight fighting for peanuts in the Philippines.

Naz had the flashy ring-entrances, the personality and the knockout punch that set the British boxing world on fire long before he knocked out Kevin Kelley in November 1997 in his U.S. debut in Madison Square Garden. It was after that when he became a sensation in the States as well. A can’t miss superstar.

When Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales fought their memorable first fight in 2000, that set the stage for huge fights to come for both against the Prince, as both Mexicans were set to move up from junior featherweight for that purpose.

As it turned out, Barrera exposed almost every flaw Hamed possessed when he undressed and embarrassed him in Las Vegas on April 4, 2001, on the way to a unanimous 12-round decision.

Forget the 12-round decision Hamed earned in his comeback fight against Manny Calvo in London a year later, his career ended that night against Barrera at the ripe old age of 27.

All the hype, all the flash and all the superstardom vanished just like that. It was just the beginning of a long string of negative nights for Hamed, who years after his last fight served time in a British prison for reckless driving that caused a serious injury to another driver.

There are those who followed Hamed from early in his career in Great Britain who say the decline started long before Barrera, however. He was at his best when he destroyed the likes of Juan Polo Perez, Steve Robinson, Daniel Alicea, Manuel Medina and Tom Johnson in a stretch from 1995-97. By the time he invaded the States for the Kelley fight, he wasn’t the same fighter. His lifestyle outside of the ring was affecting his performance in the gym and in his fights.

The same fighter who was knocked down by Kelley and taken the distance by the likes of Wayne McCullough and Cesar Soto was not the Naz that the Brits knew four or five years earlier.

I’m not sure I buy that, however.

First of all, his competition was much better when he left England. Nothing against the Aliceas, Medinas and Johnsons, who most American fight fans had actually heard of as opposed to the rest of Hamed’s early opposition, but Kelley and McCullough are very legitimate, world championship caliber fighters.

It’s hard for me to believe that Hamed was worse when he started being trained by Emanuel Steward than he was by his local trainers back in England.

And finally, Barrera was the only great fighter that Hamed ever fought in his career. He’s the only one close to being a Hall of Famer.

How do I evaluate the career of Prince Naseem Hamed?

I’m tempted to call him an absolute unadulterated fraud.

When finally defeated by a better fighter, his precious ego couldn’t handle it so he took his ball — not to mention millions — and went home.

But there is no question that his departure hurt the sport.

Yes, he was one of the main culprits who took advantage of HBO contracts that enabled him to fight nobodies like Soto and Augie Sanchez and Viyani Bungu for millions of dollars, along with the likes of Roy Jones and Mayweather, which definitely wasn’t good for boxing.

But he was a name, and the Barrera fight was supposed to be the first of a long string of huge fights that would have attracted a lot of attention — and fans — in a time when fans were making a mass exodus from boxing.
Imagine the slugfest he might have had with Morales. Like Barrera, Morales was a better boxer than Hamed, but could he have stayed away from a war, especially with the way the Prince would have goaded him in the prefight buildup. He could have eventually fought Marquez. Who knows? Maybe a super, super fight with Mayweather, who was fighting at 130, just four pounds north of Hamed’s 126, would have taken place.

And this was a thin, thin featherweight too. In his entire career he never fought about 126 pounds. Who’s to say he couldn’t have moved up the way Barrera, Morales, Marquez and Pacquaio have through the years?
Goodness, could you imagine an all-British superfight with Ricky Hatton?

But the fight that almost makes this writer’s mouth water was one that could have eventually happened between the Prince and the Pac-Man.

When Hamed fought Kelley in ’97, Pacquaio was still a year away from winning the WBC flyweight title.

But had Hamed still been around, this is a fight that eventually would have happened. Probably at 126, too. In November 2003, Pacquaio embarrassed Barrera in his featherweight debut. At that point, Hamed was just 29.
Who would have won?

It depends. Pacquaio is a better fighter in 2008 than he was in ’03. Back then he was a seek and destroyer and usually it worked. But something about him changed when he drew with Marquez in May 2004 and lost to Morales in ’05. He developed a Plan B.

Yes, he still likes to seek and destroy, as a limited but courage-filled fighter like David Diaz can attest, but he can box his way around the ring to set up the eventual destruction. And if he doesn’t come, he’s perfectly capable and willing to accept a decision.

It’s hard to imagine, Naz Hamed would have stood much of a chance against this Manny Pacquaio, who is a better boxer and a much busier fighter. Remember Hamed was never a volume puncher. He was much more awkward than he was fundamentally sound. Everything was about the bomb.

Maybe in ’03, however, Pacquaio would have wanted to test his machismo against Hamed. Who really was the hardest hitting 5-foot-4 fighter in the world?

Such a fight may have been electric.

Which gets back to my gut feeling that Naseem Hamed cheated the sport of boxing.

That, above all the else will be his legacy.