In what has to be the least surprising story ever written about on this blog, boxing trainer Roger Mayweather was arrested Sunday morning for strangling a woman in Las Vegas.
Melissa St. Vil, a female boxer who Mayweather once trained, called 911 and screamed out her address before the phone was disconnected. When the police showed up Mayweather was behind St. Vil with his arms around her. According to the police report, St. Vil was coughing and spitting up blood and had red marks on her neck, consistent with strangulation. Paramedics said they also noticed defensive wounds to the side of Mayweather’s face and a cut on the top of his head. The report further claimed that St. Vil struck Mayweather with a lamp as he was choking her.
This incident puts Mayweather’s status for his nephew, Floyd Mayweather Jr.’s, Sept. 19 megafight against Juan Manuel Marquez in doubt. Roger, a former champion, has trained “Pretty Boy” Floyd for most of his career, and continuously since 2000.
This is far from the first time the Mayweather family has run afoul of the law. Floyd Jr. has been arrested three separate times on domestic violence charges, and another time for kicking a bouncer in the head at a bar in Grand Rapids, Mich. He’s also known for his hair-trigger temper in his personal life.
Floyd Sr. was convicted of drug trafficking in 1993 as part of a cocaine smuggling ring and served five years in prison. Prior to that, Floyd Sr.’s brother-in-law pulled a gun on him while he was holding Floyd Jr., who was only a year old at the time. Floyd Jr.’s uncle then shot Floyd Sr. in the leg.
Then, of course you’ve got the blood feud that exists between brothers Roger and Floyd Sr. And the fact that Floyd Sr. and Floyd Jr. haven’t been speaking for several years.
So this led me to a question: Which family would you rather attend a barbecue with: the Mayweathers or the Jacksons?
Really, it’s a tough one for me.
On the one hand, spending time with the Jacksons would be weird, awkward and just plain creepy. Plus, there’s a real chance that Joe would try and steal something and who wants to get caught up in all that drama? Other than that they’d probably all just sit there with their surgically-enhanced…well, surgically-enhanced everything, and stare off into the distance or talk about inane subjects like how the pressure this world put on Michael actually killed him. I don’t know if I could possibly sit through that without piping up and saying, “Uh, no, I’m pretty sure the drugs were responsible for that.”
Then, you know at some point it’s going to get suggested that you should sleep over and maybe even cuddle with the kids like their dad used to. Not happening. The only positive is that if something violent went down, I’m pretty confident I could take any of the Jacksons. No matter how hard he tried, Joe is an old man and I could whoop his ass if I needed to. And Tito’s left hook just isn’t what it used to be.
On the other hand, with the Mayweathers, the odds of escaping a potential scrap aren’t so good. Though I’m seven inches taller than Floyd Jr., he’d still bust me up in two seconds flat. The Mayweather family barbecue would be way more entertaining, just watching the Bermuda Triangle that is the Floyd Sr. – Roger – Floyd Jr. relationship would be fascinating. But those guys have a combination of like 45 kids, grandkids and other various children around, which would totally distract from the entertainment of watching that unholy triumvirate stare holes through each other.
Mayweather’s manager, Leonard Ellerbe would also do his best to make me commit a felony, by walking around the party trying to draw as much attention to himself as possible. For those who don’t know, Ellerbe is Mayweather’s personal Don King. Basically he’d be like the annoying neighbor who invites himself over to a party by promising to bring a great bottle of vodka. Then shows up with a fifth of Popov and acts like Buzz Killington the whole night. Problem is, if you said anything about Ellerbe annoying the shit out of you, there’s really good chance Floyd Jr. or Roger would beat the ever-lovin’ piss out of you.
So here are your choices: Be bored, annoyed and seriously creeped out by the Jacksons, but leave with your life; OR be entertained, slightly annoyed and potentially be assaulted with the Mayweathers?
I’m on the fence really. I tend to think I’d go with the Mayweathers, just because I don’t think I could stand to be around the Jacksons.