It was a long, rambling poem, though it wasn’t the kind of verse you might hear late at night in a smoky San Francisco coffee house where they serve cappuccino to guys with goatees, turtle necks and no cab fare home.

Floyd Mayweather Sr., is the “greatest fight trainer in the game.” At least that what he keeps telling us. He’s also a poet, though he might have a little trouble fitting in at a Poets of the 21st Century seminar.

Floyd’s pre-fight rhymes are both legendary and suspect, but at least he doesn’t try to bury the meaning behind a bunch of flowery prose. Subtlety has never interfered with a Mayweather sonnet. Instead, he presents his poetic opinions like you might present a pistol at a high-stakes poker game. There’s nothing hidden about the purpose and the message, and if you don’t like what he’s got to say, you can always leave. If you want to take it further, the gun is sitting there on the table loaded and cocked.

In his most recent piece of literary work, “the greatest trainer in the game” focused on how Oscar De La Hoya was going to beat an out-gunned and out-coached “Sugar” Shane Mosley on Saturday night in their junior-middleweight championship fight at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.

It‘s a delightful little poem about revenge and beating guys silly and lost fortunes and how Mosley chose the wrong guy to pick on. Occasionally, it even rhymes.

According to Mayweather’s ode to Oscar, De La Hoya will complete his night’s work somewhere close to the eighth round.

If you know a bookie, now is the time to call.

Poetry aside, “the greatest trainer in the game” says De La Hoya – who lost a close fight to Mosley in June 2000 – has been training “like a guy who doesn’t have money.” Obviously, Mayweather is telling us De La Hoya is hungry.

“I see something different in my fighter,” Mayweather said in a conference call last week. “But I don’t see no difference in Shane.”

Why should Mosley change? Didn’t he win the first fight?

Mayweather elaborated.

“Oscar is not going to be robotic,” he said. “He‘s going to be more elusive. Movement is good for a fighter. Oscar is still moving on his feet. He’s going to move enough to get the job done.”

That was about the time Mayweather informed us that Mosley has been seeing a psychiatrist, a Dr. Lightfoot.

“Shane must be scared,” said Mayweather, who let the announcement sink in for a moment. “There’s s something about guys who are going to fight Oscar. They always seem to need something, like potions, steroids or hoodoo.”

Or speed. That’s the only voodoo Mosley needed to win the first fight.

“We’re going to fight a technical fight,” Mayweather went on. “A smart, technical fight. A winning fight. Oscar definitely won’t be the same fighter he was. He’ll be more agile, more elusive and more creative.”

As for the Mosley camp, Mayweather saved a little literary ammunition for Shane‘s dad and trainer, Jack Mosley.

“Jack don‘t know Jack,” he smirked.

Floyd don’t know when to quit.