Inside the Mayweather Camp: 72 hours before the Oscar fight!
By Ace Freeman (10-Jun-2009)

From the FightFan archives, read on to hear about Floyd Mayweather Jr.'s training camp just 72 hours before he faced Oscar De La Hoya in 2007 and watch exclusive video of the champ in action!

It was 72 hours from the biggest fight of his life, and Floyd Mayweather’s gym felt like a family picnic. There are so many stories of the Mayweather family in the media depicting turmoil and infighting, but behind closed doors the energy of having his family around him was not the least bit distracting for the champ. He seemed to thrive on it.

Nestled quietly a few miles from the major casinos, it was all smiles at the crowded Mayweather gym, family, friends, and a lone Canadian cast off taking it all in. Ironic, when later that day I tried to find my way into Oscar’s gym back on the strip and found it to be sealed tighter than Fort Knox.
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Floyd Mayweather Jr: 72 hours before De La Hoya fight

Video by Ace Freeman

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I landed in Las Vegas at 10:00 AM on Wednesday May 2. It was just over 72 hours from the time that Floyd Mayweather Jr. (boxing’s best fighter) would walk into the ring to face Oscar De La Hoya (boxing’s biggest name). The entire city was abuzz. We had been denied press credentials to cover this fight due to the overwhelming demand for international media placement. I was on my own, just a late 20’s Canadian male walking the beat in Sin City. I was indeed a stranger in a strange land.

Being denied media credentials was a big disappointment, but not a surprise. FightFan.com was in it’s infancy and despite our internal sense of superiority and the overwhelming feeling that what we were doing mattered, I was going to have to cover this event of my own accord.

Arriving early Wednesday put me in town just in time for the final press conference. I made my way over to the MGM Grand and was stopped at the press entrance. Apparently, they weren’t kidding around about requiring a credential.

“What about this press pass?” I said with a coy look offering the stern looking security guard a fifty dollar bill.

He was not amused. I looked around and found myself surrounded by hundreds of rabid Fight Fans just eager to get a look at one of the principal fighters. These were my people, good people. I listened to several of them explaining to me why both fighters were a lock to win. After some time I wandered over to a pay phone to call my partner in crime. Joe Bruiser was still in Calgary and I was letting him know the scene.

“It seems like everything is happening,” I told him. “I’m outside the press conference now. They wouldn’t let me in, but I can confirm it is happening.”

I was at the heart of the event but on the outside looking in. Upon returning to the mass of fans, I heard someone say the fighters would be coming out soon. As appealing as this sounded, I felt the urge to flee.

In the parking lot of the MGM grand was the convertible mustang I had rented. I threw in my bag and started her up. I hit the open road and laid rubber to pavement. LL Cool J’s ‘Mama said knock you out’ was blaring over the speakers. It wasn’t a comeback for me either, but unlike LL I hadn’t been there for years. I was fresh faced and perhaps a little bit naive. The desert wind was blowing through my hair and I had to plan my next move. I drove around a while, weaving in and out among the concrete monoliths that enclose the Las Vegas strip.

I had the address for the Mayweather gym in my day planner. I had missed Floyd’s open workout by a few weeks, but the advisory email came in handy. Ten minutes later I pulled in to the parking lot and parked beside a large van with the champ painted on the side. Out front two large men sat guarding the entrance to the door.

“Gentlemen.” I said.

Their expressions didn’t change. Perhaps they could tell I was Canadian. The Vegas heat hangs thickly for those of us used to the bitter and icy winds of the great white north. I was sweating profusely.

“I’m hoping you guys can help me out. I run Canada’s biggest boxing website…”

There are only two that I am aware of….. no sense in adding that, I thought.

“Can you believe these bastards? I fly all the way down here from my snow covered home to wander around this god forsaken desert and they deny me press credentials for the fight.”

I’m not certain they had any idea what I was talking about and still their facial expressions hadn’t changed. I raised my eyebrow and was just a moment away from turning around and walking off without further inquiry when one of the men finally broke the awkward silence.

“Talk to him,” he said pointing over my shoulder.

I turned around and saw none other than Floyd Mayweather Jr. walking up behind me. I was stunned and embarrassingly somewhat star struck.

“What’s up man?” Floyd said, extending his hand to me.

“This guy here’s from Canada. They wouldn’t let him in the press conference,” one of the security guards chimed in.

“They wouldn’t let you in the press conference?” Floyd asked wide eyed, looking amused and not overly concerned.

“No,” I said. “I’m from Canada. My name is Ace.”

Just then I noticed a familiar face beside Floyd. The pound-for-pound king’s long time personal driver is named “53″. A native of New York, I had met him a year ago on one of my first trips to Vegas. One of Mayweather’s right hand men, “53″ recognized my face and put in a good worth with the boss.

“Come on in Ace,” Floyd said as he and his entourage walked past me. “You can see me do what I do up close and personal.”

And like that, he was gone. The door closed behind him. I stood dumbfounded, and looked at the “53″. He smiled and held the door open for me.

Floyd sat down on a leather couch in the front area. The gym was filled with his family and friends. There were several cardio machines in the front room and an open door gave a peek into the main gym. A set of weights sat to the side and a large ring filled the middle of the room. Behind the ring were a selection of punching bags.

There were a few fighters going through their paces, but at this particular time it looked and felt more like a playground. Several children, some belonging to Floyd, some his nieces and nephews ran freely around the gym. They skipped and ran wild, singing and dancing.

I found a seat next to the ring and sat down . After a few minutes a young boy came running towards me. He couldn’t have been more than three years old. He stopped and looked at me with some suspicion. I stared back at him and his hands fell to his side.

Suddenly I was in a staring contest. I refused to look away and finally the young lad broke into a big smile. He was Roger Mayweather’s son Lekhei, and he put his dukes up. He tossed a few jabs in my direction and ran off.

Soon Floyd Jr. entered the room with his hands freshly wrapped. As he walked through the door a train of children ran past him.

“Hey!” he bellowed with an angry scowl. The children stopped and stared. Floyd looked at them sternly and then cracked a huge grin as he chased after them. They screamed with delight and continued running.

It was 72 hours from the biggest fight of his life, and Floyd Mayweather’s gym felt like a family picnic. There are so many stories of the Mayweather family in the media depicting turmoil and infighting, but behind closed doors the energy of having his family around him was not the least bit distracting for the champ. He seemed to thrive on it.

Nestled quietly a few miles from the major casinos, it was all smiles at the crowded Mayweather gym, family, friends, and a lone Canadian cast off taking it all in. Ironic, when later that day I tried to find my way into Oscar’s gym back on the strip and found it to be sealed tighter than Fort Knox.

Floyd was working out light in the final days before the fight. He shadow boxed and hit the pads with his head trainer and uncle, Roger Mayweather. All the while the children ran in and out of the ring.

Floyd moved around the ring gracefully and undeterred. As relaxed as could be he practiced his precision movements and punches… all in milliseconds, precise punches and rhythmic head movement. It was all second nature to him.

I was in Floyd’s gym for the duration of the afternoon just watching the champ at work. The stress and hectic nature of the event and the casinos were a million miles away.

I thought to myself that if Floyd’s demeanor and state of mind is anything like it is in training, come fight night there is little that Oscar will be able to do that Mayweather won’t be prepared for.

I powered down my camera and threw it and my bag into the passenger seat of the mustang. They may not have had room for me at the press conference, but I was pleased to have been taken into the fold at Floyd’s gym. His training was just winding down and his fight about to begin. Mine had been going on since I touched down in Nevada. I wasn’t sure who or what I was fighting but I felt like that day I had gotten the upper hand.

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