I have said on more than one occasion that Floyd Mayweather Jr. is the best junior lightweight I have ever seen. Better than Hector Camacho, better than Julio Cesar Chavez, better than Alexis Arguello. I have always been careful, however, to stay away from calling Floyd the best junior lightweight ever. The reason? I never saw Sandy Saddler fight at 130 pounds.

Whenever anyone asks me where the late, great Salvador Sanchez ranks in featherweight history, my answer is always the same: he is the greatest of the last 45 years, the greatest since Sandy Saddler. An intelligent argument can be made that Sandy Saddler was both the greatest featherweight and the greatest junior lightweight in the history of boxing.

On Tuesday, Sept. 18th, 2001, Sandy Saddler died. I remember when Joe Louis passed away, and Sugar Ray Robinson and Henry Armstrong. The loss of Sandy Saddler is comparable. Some highlights: his record against Willie Pep, whom many consider pound-for-pound the greatest pure boxer of all-time, is 3-1 with all three victories by knockout. Saddler was 8-1 with 6 stoppages in title fights, and his title fight record would have likely been considerably better had it not been for an auto accident that essentially retired him at the age of 30. He retired as the reigning featherweight champion of the world. His last title defense was a 13th-round stoppage of Flash Elorde, a southpaw who would go on to championship glory as a junior lightweight. Saddler knocked out 103 men in his Hall of Fame career.

A terrific puncher, the 5'9' Saddler was an unusually tall, tough and wily (some would, and did, say dirty) fighter. Yet as great as he was, and despite the fact that he took three out of four from Pep, his style was not as aesthetically pleasing, not as classically beautiful as Pep's. As a result he was never embraced by the boxing world to the same extent that Pep was.

In comparing the two, it must be stated that although only 26 years old the first time he met Saddler in the ring, Pep had suffered injuries in a plane crash, and was no longer the fighter he had been in his real fighting prime. Pep was also able to beat Saddler in their second meeting. The question therefore must be asked: if a past-his-prime Pep was able to beat Saddler one out of four, what would a prime Pep have done? Finally, in both of their last two meetings, Pep was ahead on the scorecards at the time he quit. Then again, Sandy Saddler never quit.

Based on Pep's superior record during his prime, and on the fact that he was competitive with Saddler in three of their four fights when he was no longer what he had been, I am among those who infuriate Sandy Saddler fans by rating Willie Pep the greatest featherweight ever, with Sandy right behind him at No. 2. In the all-time pound-for-pound rankings (based mostly on the quality of the fighter's prime, but with some consideration for the overall accomplishments of their careers) I have Sandy Saddler grouped in the second tier of the top 20, alongside such fighters as Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Leonard. As Brian Kenny mentioned during our tribute to Saddler during this last Friday Night Fights telecast, Saddler was to boxing greatness what Stan Musial was to baseball greatness -- Musial does not get the press that his contemporaries Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio get, but he was right there with those guys. Just like Musial, Sandy Saddler is right there with anyone who ever lived.

Around The Rings

Fernando Vargas stopped a top-20 type in Shibata Flores last Saturday night, and in doing so positioned himself for a unification showdown with Oscar De La Hoya or the winner of the Winky Wright-Robert Frazier bout. Vargas also may have provided further evidence that guys who fight Felix "Tito" Trinidad are never the same afterwards. Vargas has claimed in the past that he rises to the level of his opponent, and his career-best performances against Ike Quartey (W 12), and Trinidad (KO by 12) support his claim. But this is two fights in a row now where Ferocious Fernando has looked vulnerable. While Wilfredo Rivera and Shibata Flores, two solid but unspectacular contenders, may not have properly motivated Vargas, Oscar De La Hoya and Winky Wright (yes, I am assuming Winky gets by Frazier) will supply all the motivation the Ferocious One needs. We will soon find out whether Fernando Vargas is another career casualty of the merciless fists of Trinidad. Which brings us to this Saturday...

I love everything about Bernard Hopkins, but watching a Felix Trinidad superfight, especially when his opponent is a willing warrior like Hopkins, is the most fun a boxing fan can have with his clothes on. I find it impossible not to feel sorry for any fighter standing in the opposite corner, staring at Tito, waiting for the bell to ring to start the fight. Trinidad is a treasure, he is in his prime, and we should enjoy him for the ruthless, cold-blooded cyborg he is. Take Julio Cesar Chavez at his best, take away some of his ability to absorb a punch, but add a clean lifestyle, a lot of height, a mile of reach, and a ton of hand speed, boxing ability and power.

If Bernard Hopkins beats Trinidad he should be a first ballot Hall of Famer. Tying the all time middleweight title defense record while simultaneously beating the T-1000, I mean, c'mon.

By the way, the all time record for middleweight title defenses -- 14 -- which Hopkins seeks to equal, is held by the late Carlos Monzon. This sets up a potential historical parallel of the sort that we boxing geeks love. Monzon's last two defenses were against the formidable Rodrigo Valdez. Monzon unified the middleweight title in his 13th defense with a close decision over Valdez and then climbed off the canvas to win the rematch. If Hopkins beats Trinidad (thus tying Monzon's mark), and then beats Tito again in a rematch, he will have set the all-time middleweight title-defense mark by defending his undisputed championship against the man he unified against. Just like Monzon.

It's hard not to root for Bernard, but Tito is like the tide -- he keeps on rolling in. The boxing beach is strewn with the bodies (see David Reid) of those who have tried to resist the inevitable.

Max Kellerman is a studio analyst for ESPN2's Friday Night Fights.