LAS VEGAS — Inside the Mayweather Boxing Club, where the assembled included a lawyer, a famous rapper, a celebrity chef, a girlfriend, an ex-girlfriend, a dozen boxers, a few dozen spectators and, naturally, three representatives from Habitat for Humanity, the boxing equivalent of a Batman signal flashed.
The focus lingered on his next bout, against Miguel Cotto at the MGM Grand on Saturday. No one mentioned the date that most weighed on their collective conscience, an anything-but-random Friday 27 days after the fight. That is when Mayweather, 35, is scheduled to report to jail for misdemeanor domestic violence and harassment charges reached in a plea bargain.
The undefeated boxer with an 18-room mansion will live inside a 10-by-6-foot cell for up to 87 days starting June 1. He will swap gloves for prison garb, marble for steel, boxing for boxed in. When Manny Pacquiao fights here in June, Mayweather is supposed to be jailed a few miles down the road.
Mayweather appeared unconcerned as he smiled into the nearest mirror and stepped inside the ring to spar, as if the sentence that awaited amounted to little more than a vacation.
“I was born for this,” Mayweather said.
“This” could mean boxing, the sport in which Mayweather has accumulated some $200 million in 42 victorious fights. “This” could mean Mayweather’s surreal lifestyle. In recent weeks, he placed a single bet for $1.3 million on Kentucky’s basketball team, sent an assistant to fetch $20,000 in lottery tickets, put his Rolls-Royce Phantom on eBay and sparred with boxers and People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
“This,” Mayweather insisted, is normal, all the chaos and turbulence, even if these circumstances are without precedent. Even if preparations for this fight, while typical, serve a different purpose: to distract from the reality, jabs instead of jail.
“My life has always been a roller-coaster ride,” Mayweather said. “Seven in one bedroom. Mother on drugs. Father being shot. Dad going to prison. Never having a stable home. I know you’re talking about jail. Me going to prison in June. I’m going to do the same thing: bob and weave. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Another smile.
“Bob and weave.”
The night before, Mayweather rented a local amusement park. Friends and family gathered after midnight, in accordance with his odd schedule. (A typical dinner is consumed between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m., and breakfast is eaten before bed, usually around 8 a.m. or 9 a.m. “I’m a vampire” is one of Mayweather’s new catchphrases.)
As they waited for Mayweather’s workout arrival, those who had participated in the amusement park diversion wiped sleep from their eyes. Like the champion, they found comfort here, in numbers and family and routine.
Preparations began immediately. Handlers laid out 13 matching sets of brightly colored gloves and headgear, gloves painted every color, painted with Mayweather’s face, the bottoms made to look like alligator skin. The sounds of rap on the stereo rose in volume until the gym vibrated. The room temperature nosed above 80 degrees, among the conditions mandated by Mayweather, along with beverage selection (Pepsi, water, orange Powerade). Ricki Brazil, a childhood friend, said Mayweather had already planned for his time in prison. Some 10 people are involved in carrying out those wishes and ensuring that the corporation Mayweather has become will run smoothly. Brazil’s tasks is to update the registration on each of Mayweather’s 29 cars. Others have access to his bank accounts. Still others will check on his father, uncle, children.
“Right now, he tries not to think about it, so we try not to think about it,” Brazil said. “He can block it out as long as he gets attention. As long as they’re talking about him, he’s happy. He knows he’s relevant, which means he’s doing something right.”
Inside the gym, Roger Mayweather, uncle and trainer, said he last saw his nephew this sharp years ago, before he regularly took long layoffs between fights. Roger lost his belt after a 16-month break. That his nephew battered Victor Ortiz into submission in September meant Mayweather required less time to round into form.
“When you lay off, you lose something,” Roger said. “That’s what boxing is.”
Roger spit out the word, his favorite, “boxing,” with a heavy emphasis on box. No, he was not concerned that Cotto could weigh 154 pounds at superwelterweight. “Weight ain’t never won no boxing fight! Skills pay the bills!” Yes, he believed his nephew merited mention with the boxer he considers the best ever, Sugar Ray Robinson, whether Mayweather ever fights Pacquiao or not.
The subject of jail time drew a more animated response.
