If Floyd Mayweather were an NBA Player...

Well, what can I say? It’s shaping up to be an eventful weekend.

Which means the shoulder-shrugging “what else is going on?” excuse no longer works for this column, but screw it: let’s continue the tradition of strained analogies. (I was off yesterday... sorry about the interruption to your irrelevant sports programming). Today’s edition: if Floyd Mayweather were a basketball player, who would he be? The answer may surprise you.

Consider: Floyd’s a boxer with a pretty astounding pedigree--a prizefighter father (Floyd Sr.) and an uncle who was pretty damn good, himself. He’s been a pro since he was 19 years-old, and his combination of flawless technique and ruthless execution has put him in the conversation with some of the greatest fighters of all time. His ridiculous athleticism is matched only by his tireless work ethic, and yet, against a landscape of lesser fighters, and at a time when boxing is looking for a defining superstar that we can all love, Floyd seems more suited to the role of villain.

Kobe, too, had a professional athlete as his forebearer in basketball, and turned professional at young age. Almost immediately, it was apparent that we were witnessing a player of limitless potential, and in addition to his spellbinding athleticism and penchant for dramatic game-winning shots, there was something about Kobe that repelled the sporting public. It was nothing he did, in particular, but more generally, he just never won over many fans. You either loved Kobe, or you hated him; and a whole lot more people hated him.

This sort of polarity is familiar to followers of “Pretty Boy” Floyd’s career, and indeed, it’s confounding to some degree. Both of these guy work their ass off, dispatch their competition with ruthless efficiency, and have “walked the walk” for every inch of their boisterous talk over the years. Why doesn’t anyone like them?

Kobe emerged at a time when the NBA was straining to find a superstar to take up the Michael Jordan Mantle--and with a game that’s almost an exact facsimilie to Jordan’s, along with a winning smile, and before long, championships, Kobe seemed a perfect candidate. And yet, it always seemed like he was trying too hard.

Mayweather, too, arrived at a time when interest in boxing was waning. But with fighters like Oscar De La Hoya and Arturo Gatti already occupying the “people’s champ” role, he had a choice: fight for the public’s affection, or simply accept his lot, and embrace the role of villain. Therein lies the crucial difference between Kobe and Floyd: the latter accepted his fate before the public, and for reasons that are rooted in economics, embraced it wholeheartedly. Floyd had to play the role; it made him a huge box office draw in a profession where that attribute defines your success as much as any “talent” might. For better or worse, in boxing, generating interest is the talent that matters most.

Kobe, on the other hand, never had that imperative, so he vacillated between identities. He tried to play villain: he nicknamed himself “The Black Mamba” and adopted the ethic of cold-blooded assasain, going for 81 points in one game, and saying things like, “these young guys are out there playing checkers, I’m playing chess.” But while Floyd transitioned easily from “Pretty Boy” to the cold-hearted, single-minded “Money” Mayweather, Kobe couldn’t help but try to be the guy everybody loved.

He still did goofy things like wear throwback jerseys to press conferences, went out of his way to show the media how much he liked his teammates, and, in the wake of that ugly thing in Colorado, traveled just about everywhere he went with his wife and kids in tow. And that’s where the comparison really dovetails: Floyd, too, just wants to be loved.

As Dave Larzelere points out at HBO, with financial security, Floyd’s become more apt to show the world that’s he really not such a bad guy. He writes:

But the villain act grows wearisome over time, and seeking adoration by provoking disdain can be a thankless and childish hustle. It makes sense that Floyd would eventually start to throw off the cartoonish character that is “Money May” and ask for a different kind of attention from boxing fans.
But why now? If, as Ellerbe contends, this is the real Floyd and he’s been there all along, why choose to emphasize it in the build-up to this particular fight? Is it just a matter of growing older and maturing? Perhaps, after being away from the game for almost two years, the 32-year-old father of four finally has said to himself, “You know what? No more Mr. Not Nice Guy. I want to be the hero of the movie now.”
“I think there’s something to that,” says ESPN’s senior boxing writer, Dan Rafael. “Floyd is a very insecure person and deep down he just wants to be loved by everybody. So maybe he’s having a little bit of an internal battle. Because on the one hand, he can probably generate more attention and more money by playing the villain, but maybe being the good guy is going to make him feel better, and maybe that’s more important to him now.”

And that’s the thing about Kobe and Floyd: for all their foibles, they’re essentially just two men whose immense athletic gifts are surpassed only by their deep insecurities. That’s why, when you see Kobe Bryant bobbing his head on stage with Kanye West and Lil Wayne, or when he’s wearing throwback jerseys that look hopelessly misplaced on his frame, it’s not as weird as you might think: he just wants to be cool. Or “liked,” even.

And yet, as both men get older and begin to grapple with their athletic mortality, we see them preening for the cameras and going out of their way to show how much they love their families. For “Money” and “The Black Mamba,” it seems wealth, success, and fame isn’t enough. Kobe Bryant and Floyd Mayweather have probably never met one another, but look closely, and you’ll see: they’re essentially the same person, working tirelessly at their craft, bowling over their competition with an ease that almost approaches artistry, and clumsily trying to endear themselves to a public that just doesn’t like them very much.