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A stinking rich black man who flaunts the cash will have many more enemies. And sustaining this view, Floyd Mayweather, Jr. (born Floyd Joy Sinclair, on February 24, 1977), the "pretty" black boy from Grand Rapids, Michigan, has numerous enemies around the globe.

To capture the scale of the disaffection felt towards him; consider a case of an American fighting a Filipino in America and being booed. That says it all.

But is there a valid reason why this man—despite his unsurpassed achievement in this era—is still chided and derided. Perhaps there is, and that is what this article will seek to put across with stainless clarity and consummate gusto.

Having overcome the next best fighter in the ring, despite what anyone will say, he should be luxuriating in the tantalising fruits of his exalted success; and yet, he can only but dream of universal acclaim and love. Indeed, the man has a mountain of an issue to climb.

Poverty, in my view, has a way of staining the soul and leaving an imprint upon it for a lifetime. I look at Floyd's background and I realise that there are surely psychological issues at play here.

And beyond such deep-rooted issues, the other begging question becomes: What is a man supposed to do with his wealth? "Go [his] way, sell whatever [he has] and give to the poor," as Jesus  advised the rich young ruler in Mark 10:17-22?

In truth, to expect such of a man who is not even a preacher by any shred of the imagination—and as to how many times his shadow darkens a church door, which we do not know—will be asking way too much.

For starters, even the preachers who will be role models for him to emulate, have yet to follow such a high and demanding request. Ask yourself: How many preachers do you know who have given their mansions away to live in a quaint little cottage, all in the name of obeying the Master's command to that young ruler?

Despite this view, a man must still stand or fall upon his own sword. And the brash arrogance, whether to sell tickets or not, of Mayweather must equally attract the right and measured condemnation.

In fact, the distance between him and refreshing humility is like day and night. To attempt to mention Mayweather in the same breath as humility would be a curious attempt to mix clean, fresh water from a brook with the stinking sewage from a downtown house. The two cannot be more different.