ED GRANEY: Hatton has eye on bigger prize

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Art Pelullo is a boxing promoter who this week made an idiotic statement, which means he understands the most basic chore of his profession.

He is president of Banner Promotions, which represents the U.S. interests of Ricky Hatton for tonight’s IBO super lightweight title fight against Jose Luis Castillo at the Thomas & Mack Center.

It was Pelullo who at a Thursday news conference took offense with a Review-Journal article that stated Castillo is clearly on the downside of his career, pathetically reaching as far to suggest the Mexican fighter is “close to his prime” and “at the peak of his career.”

(Note to the Nevada Athletic Commission: You might want to consider drug testing a third person following tonight’s main event.)

Promoters are in the business of hyping events and selling tickets. To do so, they say stupid things as often as your local sushi chef uses his trusty sashimi knife.

Pelullo knows the truth about Castillo — he is an old 33 with a combined 96 amateur and pro fights, having taken so many punches it’s a wonder he wasn’t steered into Friday’s weigh-in in a wheelchair. But however Hatton’s camp wants to portray tonight’s opponent, this reality isn’t altered:

If the magnetic and undefeated guy from Manchester wants to sniff his dream fight and give English sports fans a nice little diversion from the mess their national soccer team has become, he must win.

Hatton wants more than anything to stand opposite Floyd Mayweather Jr., which might not happen regardless of tonight’s outcome. It definitely won’t if he fails to beat a tough but worn Castillo in a fight in which Hatton is nearly a 2-1 favorite.

“I’m not saying I’m the greatest fighter in the world, but I am one of the biggest draws,” said the 28-year-old Hatton, who would have to fight Mayweather at the 147-pound welterweight level. “Oscar De La Hoya is a massive draw. Likewise, so is Floyd. But after that, my following is hard to match.

“I would think Floyd only wants big-name fights now. Big occasions. Massive fights. It is what I would bring.”

Mayweather insists he is retired and more concerned with endorsing his soft drink and clothing line, with finalizing movie and reality television deals, with discovering young fighters his company can promote.

Whatever. I refuse to believe he stepped into a ring for the last time when he won a split decision against De La Hoya here in May, in part because you never see such a flawless fighter walk away from the potential for more gigantic paydays at age 30 (those lap dances and parlay bets can put a dent into the ol’ wallet), and it’s impossible to accept the fighting Gods would deny us more profanity-laced pearls from Roger Mayweather.

Hatton makes a good point. Minus a Mayweather-De La Hoya rematch, which wouldn’t make as much money the second time around nor earn the same interest (too many people saw the first fight), matching Hatton with Mayweather at least would give boxing another huge blast of attention to balance out the UFC mania.

Thousands of British fans again have followed Hatton here this week, and many helped make Friday’s weigh-in more entertaining than the Mayweather-De La Hoya fight.

They sang “God Save the Queen” and pounded down bottles of rum and beat drums and held their collective breath once Castillo stepped on the scale, erupting when he made weight without appearing seconds from death this time.

Can you imagine the scene if Mayweather gave Hatton a fight?

“Ricky Hatton is a joke,” said the rarely understated Leonard Ellerbe, lead adviser to Mayweather Jr. “He’s highly overrated as a fighter. I can understand why he is trying to align himself with Floyd, with the best there is, but you have to bring more to the table than a great following.

“To bring that many fans over from Europe is great for boxing. But this guy isn’t a household name outside of England. No one knows him. You can’t take him seriously. His focus should be on Jose Luis Castillo.”

Here’s hoping Hatton knows when the fight begins. It was earlier this week when his promoters said the fighter would conduct interviews before working out.

Two hours later, following a ring and bag workout, a jog on the treadmill, a shower, some chitchat, pretty much everything except ordering out for lunch and tipping a few pints, he still hadn’t fielded one question.

Which proves this: Not only do promoters say stupid things, but they also can’t tell time.

Ed Graney’s column is published Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.