As the night crept upon Las Vegas, the hype reached its peak. It was long before the victory laps, before the decision, before the 12 full rounds or the entrances or the anthems. It was at the conclusion of the final undercard fight, when the impending Fight of the Century finally justified all the hysteria. Right as it became imminent, that was the moment. It was about to happen, finally, after all these years. Mayweather vs Pacquiao. Nothing that followed was ever gonna match that feeling of pure excitement.

People will tell you that the fight was a disappointment, but that’s not true. You can’t judge the quality of a bout against the anticipation you felt beforehand. Whatever happened, whoever won, no matter how entertaining those twelve rounds would be, this was never a fight that was meant for us fans, regardless of how often we were thanked or told we deserved it. If it were about us, it would have happened years ago. No, this was a fight meant for the history books. A legacy definer, the two greatest pugilists of our times battling for the unofficial title of Pound For Pound Fighter of a Generation.

Vasyl Lomachenko won the first televised undercard bout. He won it easy too. The Ukrainian featherweight is one of the top prodigies in all boxing, having only turned pro last year at the age of 26. Bob Arum called him the greatest amateur in boxing history and with two Olympic gold medals and two golds and a silver in the World Amateur Championships, he’s got a fair case too. Lomachenko almost won the WBO Featherweight title in just his second professional fight but a tactically poor performance and a controversial decision cost him against Orlando Salido. With the referee calling it incredibly leniently despite a number of low blows delivered by Salido, Lomachenko lost it on a split decision. But he came back three months later to win the still vacant WBO Featherweight title (Salido failed to make weight against Lomachenko, so didn’t get the belt) in a majority decision over Gary Russell Jr.

Lomachenko fought Gamalier Rodriguez on this card, his fifth professional fight. He won by knockout in the ninth, Rodriguez taking a knee after copping a pounding all the way. He’s a very busy fighter, is Lomachenko, with some rapid arm speed and he’s always on his toes. He throws some lightning combos too. The swift movement and general brilliance of Lomachenko was far too much for Rodriguez, who was twice docked points for hitting him low and was also warned for holding. He took a knee to a count of seven earlier in the fight and once he dropped in the ninth you knew it was all over. Lomachenko probably could have taken him a few rounds earlier, but he seemed to be coasting. He’s a definite name to keep an eye on.

At some point around this time a vision of Manny Pacquiao in his changing room flashed upon the big screen to near-universal cheers from the crowd. Fighting in his home nation at his chosen arena in his adopted state of Las Vegas, Floyd Mayweather would not be the crowd favourite. Not even close. Pacquiao and his team had done a great job at presenting themselves as the good guys of the piece, preparing for a devastating showdown against the major villain. Floyd loves money, power and himself; Manny loves God, family and country. These are the two sides of America in opposition, ruthless capitalism vs wholesome values. An exorcism of The American Dream. The bookies favoured Mayweather, the public favoured Pacquiao.

In fact, Manny’s odds actually took a sharp turn downwards as the money flooded in over the last few days. Mayweather got the late money from the seasoned gamblers but Pacquiao had the popular vote. The Pac-Man’s promo campaign had certainly done its job. See him smiling as he walked to the stage for the weigh-in, snacking out as soon as he stepped off the scales, breaking the stare-down several times while Mayweather emerged in flashy tracksuit, looking focussed and determined and mercilessly cold-blooded. One’s a guy you can really love, the other a guy you only love to hate.

The second undercard was pretty much a washout. Leo Santa Cruz is an undefeated title holder while his opponent, Jose Cayetano, is nowhere near that level. What this fight was doing as a major undercard to the ‘Fight of the Century’ is a complete mystery. Santa Cruz, who is a member of the Al Haymon pool of fighters, got on the front foot early and never relented. While Cayetano put up a good fight and avoided getting knocked down, the result was a foregone conclusion from the first. Santa Cruz boxed well, albeit lacking a bit of cutting edge. He didn’t need it. He won all ten rounds unanimously.

And so after years of waiting, baiting and anticipating, the dream bout was finally here. No more promos, no more ads, no more watercooler banter. This was it…

… Just as soon as Freddie Roach can see that Floyd’s wrapped his hands properly. And as soon as Manny can get those gloves on right. Oh, and nobody wants to seem in a hurry, so we’ll give it a few more minutes. Seven long years after the fight was first touted, of course it would start late. Apparently the delay was due to the issues HBO and Showtime were having with their pay-per-view broadcasts and a raft of late orders. “Nobody believes it ‘til it happens,” said HBO spokesman Ray Stallone.

Eventually something happened and it was time to believe. The immaculate vocal tones of Jimmy Lennon Jr. graced us from within the ring. In honour of Cinco de Mayo in a few days, the Mexican national anthem would be sung, because… no-one really knows why. But it’s a good anthem. The Filipino anthem was next, and then Jamie Foxx offered up a scattered, organ-fuelled rendition of the American anthem. It was like he and the organist were playing at two different tempos, they were all over the place. Foxx somehow managed to squeeze all the different vowel sounds into the word ‘brave’. Yeah, it was pretty bad.

But then the fighters emerged. Pacquiao first, to rapturous chants of ‘Manny! Manny!’ Smiling and calm, he stopped for a blurry selfie with Freddie Roach before completing his pilgrimage. Nobody wanted this fight more than Manny Pacquiao, he’d been lobbying for years. Only since Pacquiao’s devastating loss to Juan Manuel Marquez had Floyd really seemed interested, only once Manny’s bargaining chips were all spent. Mayweather gets the bigger split, Mayweather gets to choose the venue, Mayweather gets his name first on the ballot. All Pacquiao gets is his fight. This walk was a long time in coming, Jimmy Kimmel trailed behind him dressed up as Justin Bieber.

The real Bieber was somewhere at the back of Floyd’s entourage. With him, for no apparent reason, was the mascot for Burger King. Mayweather looking intense where Manny looked jovial. If he heard the boos from the crowd then he didn’t acknowledge them.

“And now, the officials are ready, the fighters are in the ring and they are ready. So for the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the world. Ladies and gentlemen… LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE!”

Suddenly all the hype falls like a curtain. It’s no longer entertainment, it’s just boxing. The ring clears ‘til there are only two men remaining. The two men with their names on the billboard outside.

The bell rings and the job begins.

Immediately you could sense problems for Pacquiao. It took him 25 seconds to throw a power punch, he was supposed to come out and dominate. Even Mayweather’s camp were semi-expecting to have to come from behind after the first couple rounds. Instead it was patience and searching jabs from Floyd, keeping the shorter Manny at an arm’s length. Pacquiao’s recklessness was either going to cost him the fight or it would be his salvation. It was nowhere to be seen as Manny’s conservative approach became eerily obvious. A languid opening round, fought almost exclusively in the middle of the ring where Mayweather could dictate the open spaces. Only in the last few seconds did Manny get him near the ropes and Floyd immediately ducked out, wrapping Pacquiao up and taking it to the bell. Twice Mayweather landed with rocking right jabs to Pac’s head, he took the round with ease.

The second was more aggressive but Manny still wasn’t throwing enough punches. He seemed to be afraid to lean in as anytime he did, there was Floyd with his measuring jabs. The experts talk about dictating the distance of the fight, this is what they mean. Floyd owned the space between the fighters with his left and if Manny got too close then there came his powerful right. But Pacquiao showed some signs, getting Mayweather on the ropes a couple more times. The dude was just so elusive, he may as well have been cornering a ghost.

Speaking of spectres, it’s probably fair to say that Manny’s still haunted by that Marquez decking. It’s not that he wasn’t physically at the level he needed to be, it was a mental game. He was fearless in the past, instantly punishing, and now here he was trying to rein that instinct in. His greatest attribute has become a liability in his own eyes. It’s not like there’s a script for beating Mayweather, but letting him fight the fight that he wants is certainly not it. Floyd took the third round too.

The fourth was the first time Manny really got assertive. Floyd got lazy too, letting himself get drawn to the ropes but more often than not he had an answer. Except for one brutal left that seemed to stun Floyd. Normally he’d throw some sighters back to try stay in control but on this occasion he hesitated. Manny, even as reticent as he’d been, saw an invitation. In he charged, throwing a wild flurry of hooks as Floyd blocked up. He recovered to see out the round, however Manny was on the board. There was one more stinging right towards the end of the round, Mayweather happy to hear the bell.

But as is usually the case, Mayweather made the quicker adjustments. It took Manny three rounds of trouble to get the momentum (which the crowd was begging of him) and one small talk from dad for Floyd to take it back. He stayed central and he got aggressive. One sharp combo sent Manny reeling to the ropes and from there on Floyd really got on his heels. He was too quick for anything Manny had to throw and there wasn’t even much of that this round. Fewer punches mean a slower pace, and the slower the pace the more Floyd’s counter jabs begin to dominate. Manny caught him with the odd swinging left, there was one in the sixth that pinned Floyd on the ropes but it wasn’t enough to hurt him. Even as he thrashed at him, even as the crowd urged him on with vicious determination, Mayweather simply stood there shaking his head. Then, when the punches cleared, he jabbed his way out of trouble. Manny threw more than a couple haymakers but you don’t hit Mayweather with speculators. Pacquiao probably took a close sixth but then Mayweather brought it back to his pace the next few rounds.

Maybe the Pacquiao strategy was flawed, maybe he just didn’t have it in him to see it through. When he managed to corner Mayweather and hit him from an angle, that’s when he was at his best. His power punching was wild and usually off-target but he didn’t have the game to stick with Floyd in a jabbing contest. When he got really active, those were the rounds he took. Mayweather was far more accurate with his swings, so Pacquiao absolutely had to hurl barrages of punches just to keep up and he didn’t do that. In the ninth and tenth he connected a couple times, albeit without being able to sustain anything on the end of them. It was too late to salvage the ninth but the tenth he fought well. He came with energy and took advantage of Mayweather as he began to cruise.

By the eleventh Floyd had a comfortable lead. He could let the fight come to him and didn’t need to take any risks. Manny did, and he knew it, but heavy legs and arms seemed to hold him back. As Manny searched for an opening, Floyd sent him back every time. He even chased him across the ring with a flying right hook that ripped a hole in the air between them. Pacquiao threw hard in the twelfth but Mayweather kept him at a long distance. He was already celebrating before the final bell rang shrill across the MGM Grand.

Manny thought he won. He said so at least. He wouldn’t be the first to feel that way after being schooled by Mayweather either. Floyd doesn’t sting you as others might. He nullifies you. You come out of the fight with gas still in the tank, feeling like you did all the fighting. But rest assured, Floyd emerges fresher.

Winner by unanimous decision. Still undefeated, 48-0.

The only way the fight itself could live up to what people demanded was with a Pacquiao win, preferably by knockout. All-time classics don’t tend to end in a comfortable decision for the favourite. But what we witnessed was a definitive moment in the legacy of a legendary fighter. An unrepentant asshole? Sure. That’s why millions of people pay to watch him get knocked out every time he fights. Yet it never happens. Pacquiao was supposed to be the best contender yet and even he was dealt a lesson.

Apparently Pacquiao’s shoulder was ailing him. That’s not being offered as an excuse for the result, it’s being offered as doubt on top of the result. Something to hopefully convince promoters that a possible rematch wouldn’t just be more of the same. Financially, a rematch would make sense. It wouldn’t touch the global heights of this record-breaker but it’d get closer than anything else. Who else is there for Floyd to fight after Pacquiao? What else is there for him to prove? Maybe just one thing.

"My last fight is in September, then it's time for me to hang it up." The more he says it the more credible it becomes but surely Floyd will have his eyes on 50-0. Surely a man as obsessed by his own status in boxing folklore wouldn’t turn down the chance to beat Rocky Marciano’s legendary mark. Even if he believes it now, it’s not hard to see him coaxed out of that teased retirement in 2016 for one last victory lap. One last offering to the critics.

Not that he needs the money.