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Boxing's Far East invasion

Manny Pacquiao and Zou Shiming are equally critical in promoter Top Rank's move into China. Chris Farina/Top Rank

MACAU -- Manny Pacquiao marched to the ring, and the people warming the seats at Cotai Arena in Macau looked here and there in confusion. The weight class for the next fight was flyweight. Was it possible that Pacquiao was fighting at 112 pounds? He has held titles in eight weight classes; what's one more?

But no, this was someone else, a Thai, not Pinoy, a fighter who went by the less negotiable name of Kwanpichit Onesongchaigym. The man just happened to look exactly like Pacquiao. A murmur rippled through the crowd, and when it died down, a thought did occur. Considering Pacquiao's central role in building Macau into a new global boxing capital -- and pushing the sport further, into mainland China and its 1.4 billion people -- it would be advantageous if there were more than one Pacquiao to go around.

Later in the card, Pacquiao himself would indeed appear to face Chris Algieri, an American fighter of slight renown. No matter. Regardless of the competition, any Pacquiao fight commands a healthy gate. This is why Bob Arum, of Top Rank Boxing and Pacquiao's promoter, has directed his fighter twice now to the gambling capital of the world. Another boxer, two-time Olympic gold medalist Zou Shiming, is equally critical in tapping China's boundless numbers. Pro boxing is new to the Chinese, and Zou is the sport's first domestic star. Together, Zou and Pacquiao form Arum's hydra, come ashore from the South China Sea and making Macau, in short order, a viable host for big-time fights.

Seven times now, dating back just 19 months, Top Rank and its partners -- the Sands China and SECA, a top Chinese sports events and management firm -- have staged fights at the Venetian's Cotai Arena. In August, they produced the first pro boxing event in mainland China, in Shanghai. Next year, they have sketched plans for up to a dozen cards.

The public and the promoters are easing into the relationship. Sunday morning at Cotai Arena, the doors opened at 6 a.m. (the event was timed to air live in prime time in the U.S.). Two hours later, when the first fight began, several thousand of the 13,000-plus seats were filled. A telling video played on the arena screens between fights, a series of highlights from boxing's history: KOs and Cosell. The final image read, "This is Boxing," as though titling an introductory course.

There was plenty of evidence that Macau is well on its way to making the scene in boxing circles. Comedian Dave Chappelle was there, as were actors Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger, who met with Pacquiao and Algieri in the dressing rooms during the undercard.

In the elevator, there was the guy who attends every big-time fight, the guy you think you recognize. This man had the glow of fame. The woman on his arm voiced concern that he would "get mobbed" when the doors opened. The doors opened, and a group of Chinese fans closed in on him. The elevator doors closed, and you thought, hey, wait.

Yeah, that's right. Jermaine Jackson.

Algieri needed more of an introduction. The crowd milling around the entrances to the arena was almost entirely Asian. When several large American guys parted the crowd, chanting, "Algieri! Algieri!" they roiled everyone up into boos.

He entered the ring to the song "Don't Sweat The Technique," by Eric B. and Rakim. Algieri, however, would go on to do just that. Flummoxed by Pacquiao, Algieri, who had a 4-inch reach advantage, threw what punches he could while backpedaling.

"Manny is the best in the world at fighting like Manny Pacquiao," Algieri would say after the fight, a lopsided loss. "He has perfected fighting like Manny Pacquiao."

Algieri can take heart that there is only one Manny Pacquiao. Arum cannot. Pacquiao will be 36 before the end of this year; his boxing trips to Macau can be only so many more. Zou himself is just three years younger. When the biggest Asian boxer of all time and the first Chinese boxing star are no longer in the game, will a Chinese audience see beyond the spectacle and appreciate the sport itself?

"To make it work, we need to develop boxers," said Sheng Li, CEO of SECA, which manages Zou. "To develop boxers, we also need dates, and we need trainers. We are bringing American trainers to train not only boxers, but our trainers as well."

SECA is now pushing a lightweight, Yang Lian Hui, through the system. Yang recently spent four months in jail for breaking someone's jaw in a bar fight. SECA is hoping he'll prove as destructive against professional competition. So far, he is undefeated.

For the Sands, boxing is part of a strategy to transform Macau from a hardcore gambling enclave to a Vegas-style entertainment destination.

"We're looking for more reasons for people to come to Macau beyond gaming," said Scott Messinger, vice president of advertising and brand management for the Sands Macau. "We look at it from the side of bringing the world's best entertainment to Macau."

The resort's research reveals that more than 40 percent of fight attendees from mainland China have said they go to Macau expressly for the fight.

"For our audience here, this is a spectacle unlike anything they have ever seen," Messinger said.

There are signs that professional boxing is catching on. In a significant signal in a heavily controlled society, Chinese President Xi Jinping recently said that he watches Zou's fights on TV.

"Pro boxing is really what Chinese society needs right now," Li said. "The younger generation is taking in a lot of pop culture, watching pop groups where the boys wear makeup. China needs a little bit of roughness in the younger generation. This is a fast-paced, metropolitan society, and it needs some release."

Born and raised in China, Li worked for Visa in the Bay Area for six years. The opportunity of the 2008 Beijing Olympics called him home, where he applied his U.S. brand experience to the booming Chinese market. In 2010, he started SECA, which has blossomed into a major operator in Chinese sports.

"Sports in China has always served one purpose: national pride," he said. "We are turning it into more of a business. There's an existing model. We don't need to reinvent the wheel. Macau could be Vegas for boxing. And Shanghai could be New York."


At the postfight corral in the media ballroom, the crowd grazed on Peking duck and suckling pig. Roy Jones Jr. milled around in a tuxedo. Trainer Freddie Roach gabbed with whoever was willing. Arum, 82 years old, still seeking new terrain and adventure, was busy at the podium.

Jones was there to train Jessie Vargas, a welterweight from Las Vegas who had the fight of the night, against Antonio DeMarco. At 45, Jones still fights, though in Eastern Europe these past four years, far from the sport's center. He's accustomed to seeking new venues.

"I'm thinking about coming back here to fight," Jones said. "I want to bring a championship here."

But Jones also understands that this Macau endeavor is about more than extending the careers of those who can no longer find an audience in Las Vegas.

"Macau is giving boxing new life," Jones said. "It's always good to have new blood on the scene. They love events here. They will always pack the house."

When Zou enters the ballroom, the room shifts in his direction. Chinese media encircle him, stacked four rows deep. A dominant flyweight in the ring, only now does he look his disappearing size, swallowed whole by the Chinese public. Reemerging, he speaks through Li, his manager and interpreter. Zou took a head-butt in his fight against the Pacquiao double. By the 12th round, the eye was closed. He sits down at a table wearing dark glasses.

"When I thought about turning pro," he says, "I imagined going to Madison Square Garden, to Las Vegas, to all the usual places where world-class pro boxing happens. Fortunately, Top Rank has brought big-time pro boxing to our doorstep."

The crowd of Chinese camera jockeys stares at Zou as though this is the last anyone will ever see of him.

"I get a lot more attention now," he said. "The Olympics are only once every four years, but now I fight four times in a year. I feel a great sense of responsibility. There's a lot more that's required of a pro boxer outside the ring. There is a huge potential audience here."

When Zou leaves the room, the energy goes with him, and Roach continues chatting.

"There are still big fights out there," Roach said. "Macau has become one of those places that can host them."

It's hours after the fights have finished, and several men are urging him to leave with them. Roach keeps talking.

"Pacquiao loves it here," he said. "He's close to home. For me, it's like Vegas. A place with a lot of gamblers, people gambling on boxing who love competition. It works well for me. Being in the Philippines for seven weeks, then seven days here is a little tough. Sometimes my girlfriend hates me. But that's part of life."

Someone asks Roach about Floyd Mayweather Jr., and if the revived talk of a fight with Pacquiao means that it may come to pass. Roach stokes the fire, and he smiles and prods. It appears that the fight may not be such a fantasy. It's hard to imagine such a fight taking place anywhere besides Las Vegas. But when it comes to boxing, Vegas now has a double.