A Year Later, It’s Old Glory in Boston Marathon

There is no doubt the bombings of last year cast a long shadow on the 118th running of the Boston Marathon.

It was an inevitable backdrop: The signs on the buildings that line the course near the finish are usually covered in witty, encouraging posters. This year, they encouraged a greater kind of perseverance.

"Boston Strong," they exhorted.

It was an emotional scene for the crowd and the runner, who broke the tape near a small makeshift memorial to those who died after last year's attack on the race's finish line.And the crowd gathered at the finish line on Boylston Street had reason to cheer and celebrate Monday, as American Meb Keflezighi ended a 31-year drought for U.S. men in the Boston Marathon.Holding his trophy as the U.S. national anthem played, tears streamed down Keflezighi's face.

Race day has brought a feeling of celebration to a city that sorely needed it. This is New England's biggest sporting event, after all, and the world's oldest and most prestigious 26.2-mile road race.

The day was marked by music and laughter, and Mother Nature — with its daffodils and tulips and glorious yellow willows — also joined in.

As historian Tom Derderian told us, after the bombings, the Boston Marathon became about runners and spectators "putting themselves at risk in defiance" of terrorism.

Throughout the day, we brought you vignettes from key points on the course: Hopkinton,Wellesley, Heartbreak Hill and the finish line. Read on for a more detailed look at the race.

Mile 0: Hopkinton

The morning started with a moment of silence.

Most of the 36,000 athletes who will run the Boston Marathon this year gathered at the field of a high school in Hopkinton, Mass. They put out blankets and sat in the sun to warm themselves. In their countenances, you could see a mix of nerves and excitement that translated into the hum of a village.

But when the race emcee began to recite the names of the four people who died because of the attacks on Boston last year over the speakers, everything settled.

"Martin W. Richard, Krystle M. Campbell, Lingzi Lu, Officer Sean A. Collier," the emcee said.

By the time he finished, the shuffling had stopped and all you could hear was the low buzz of helicopters flying high above.

Much like last year, the day started off perfect for a marathon — chilly, with high, thin clouds shielding some of the sun.

But unlike last year, security was more intense. Uniformed officers and National Guard troops were stationed on every street. Runners were screened before they boarded buses. Every bag was checked, and state police officers boarded buses to take a second look.

Like last year, however, the small community poured out onto the streets.

Bob and Liz Burke moved to Hopkinton just after they got married more than 20 years ago. Their kids are now in high school, and they've come to see the beginning of the world's oldest marathon pretty much every year.

Today, the Burkes were on a hill overlooking the starting line. They could see the elite runners — sinewy and wearing single digits on their race bibs — trotting up and down the race course to warm up.

This year, said Bob, it's a little different.

"There's a little bit of everything going on," he said. There's sadness and joy and celebration.

"I think people very much want to reclaim that sense of normalcy, yet at the same time [the bombing] is the elephant in the room," he said.

As we talked, the sound of the starting pistol pierced the morning air. The fastest women in the world were off for their 26.2-mile sprint. The men would follow. And after every blast from the pistol, the crowd roared.

— Eyder Peralta

Mile 13: Wellesley

The "Scream Tunnel" arrives for runners fast and runners slow at the 20-kilometer mark on a normally quiet, tree-lined stretch of Central Street that flows past Wellesley College. Most of the school's 2,300 students cheer on the runners with an abandon that can only be ascribed to youth.

Oh, and they do more than hoop and holler; they also offer encouragement with their lips.

The "Scream Tunnel" might just as well have been named the "Kissing Tunnel," because the Wellesley tradition is to offer smooches along with raucous cheers as runners stream by. The elite competitors just smile at the girls and fly by. But farther back in the pack, there are plenty of takers willing to slow down for a little sugar on the run.

"Some people barely ease up and just lay a drive-by kiss on your cheek," says student Sabrina D'Souza. "Some are careful, plant it right on the lips and take a photo to remember the moment."

D'Souza planted herself at the 20-kilometer mark to "catch the runners early" for initiation into a "fun and joyful Wellesley tradition."

This year means more than most, however, as evidenced by the signs along the course. Last year, students at the college produced about 250 colorful posters of encouragement. This year the number is more like 800.

Holding reams of freshly prepared posters for the race, Sravanti Tekumalla and Erin Altenhof agree that Marathon Monday is the only day of the year when Wellesley feels "like a real college." It's today, they say, that the normally studious community cuts loose in a way that just doesn't happen any other time of the year.

While the screams rolled down Central Street in continuous waves, past the college and into the town of Wellesley, where generations of fans gathered along barricades and did their best to match the girls voice for voice, one couldn't help but notice security personnel everywhere. The Wellesley police were out, as you would expect. But military police and what appeared to be undercover or plainclothes police were evident all along the route. Military helicopters flew overhead.

The increased security, however, did nothing to dampen Wellesley's spirits. Dacie Boyce says this is always the best day of the school year — an inspirational event. Everyone says this year's race is even more so.

The memory of last year "amps up the feelings we already had, like, 10 times" says Boyce — as the deafening noise of Wellesley's Scream Tunnel greets another lucky runner who is now almost halfway home to the finish in Boston.

— Wright Bryan

The Elites

In the men's field of the 118th Boston Marathon, American Meb Keflezighi ended a 31-year drought for U.S. runners after staying ahead of Wilson Chebet of Kenya in a race that came down to the final mile. Keflezighi finished with a time of 2:08:37.

According to race officials, Keflezighi ran a 4:56 split at mile 23, when he had built a 20-second lead. His lead dwindled near the end, but Keflezighi stayed well ahead of his nearest competitor, as Chebet finished with a time of 2:08:48.

The crowd roared as Keflezighi crossed the finish line, celebrating a much-needed victory in the historic race.

"If somebody beat me," Keflezighi recalls thinking, "I'm going to inspire others to do it."

No American had finished first in the men's division since Gregory Meyer won in 1983. The last American woman to win was Lisa Larsen Weidenbach in 1985.

The women's field was won by Rita Jeptoo of Kenya, who set a course record with a time of 2:18:57 as she successfully defended her title as the Boston champion.

American Shalane Flanagan, a Massachusetts native, finished sixth in the race, posting a personal best with her time of 2:22:01. Michigan's Desiree Linden rounded out the women's top 10 with a time of 2:23:54.

For the second year in a row, Tatyana McFadden of Illinois won the women's wheelchair race. She posted a time of 1:35:06.

In the men's field, three-time top-five finisher Ryan Hall, a California native who trains in Arizona (and, more recently, in Ethiopia), fell off the leaders' pace and finished with a time of 2:17:50.

— Bill Chappell

Mile 20: Heartbreak Hill

Watching people watch the marathon is an event itself. Nowhere is this more evident than in Newton, home to Heartbreak Hill. The nickname for this stretch of road comes from 1936, when defending champion Johnny A. Kelley lost his race here.

At mile 20 stands Dave Evangelista, cheering, clapping and calling out friendly encouragement each time someone runs by with their name pinned to their shirt. A former marathoner himself, Evangelista says he picked this spot because "it's the place folks need the most support."

Looking out on the course, all can seem serene. There's actually a gentle downhill here. But that belies the fact that runners who make it this far have already had their fill of a series of hills leading up to this one. Heartbreak Hill is within spitting distance of the 20-mile mark, when many athletes start to lose energy. And it has to be conquered if a runner wants to make it to Boylston Street and the finish in downtown Boston.

The people passing all have their own unique style. Some walk; others glide by. Some jerk with every step forward but show no sign of tiring. Others look like they'll give up any moment now. And then there are the runners who look like they're out for a quick spin around the neighborhood, not like they're kicking through mile 20 of a marathon.

Evangelista, who says he's run in three Bostons and watched about 10, drops this wisdom as the diverse crowd slides by: "You just have to accept that someone who doesn't look anything like the runner you are is going to blow by you."

With the sun feeling warmer than the indicated 57 degrees, the whole neighborhood has turned out to watch the runners go up the hill. The athletes' pace slows, with many who were jogging now walking. But the energy on the sidelines is revving up.

Families have put up tents, laid out blankets and taken up the challenge of motivating the runners to make the summit. Cheers are loud and whole groups chant the names of individual runners going by. Cow bells ring out urgently here and there. Many groups on the sideline are wearing Boston Strong T-shirts.

Military and police shadow the whole scene, quietly standing by — and watching — at regular intervals on the course.

Near the top of the hill, the manic rhythms of the Red Hot Chili Peppers urge the runners forward. TV cameras are waiting near the top of Heartbreak Hill. So is the medical tent.

"It's all positive energy," says Evangelista, nodding to a community that has come together to forget its troubles and celebrate its heroes.

— Wright Bryan

Mile 26.2: The Finish

About an hour after Meb Keflezighi crossed the finish line to become the first American to win in 31 years, the every-day runners started to pour into the Public Gardens just past the finish.

As Gwen Myer walked into the park, she was overcome. She walked past a troubadour singing ballads in Spanish and tears filled her eyes.

She said the beauty of it all got to her. She was running for her second mom, who is battling her second bout of breast cancer. That mixed with the emotion of the events of last year, physicality of running a marathon and the sheer beauty of Mother Nature — the blooming daffodils, the brilliant yellow willows — made her cry.

Across the park, near the pond was Jonny James. He was basking in the sun, sprawled out on the grass with a big, broad smile on his face.

This race is mythical, he said, a culmination of months of training and of eight years of trying to qualify for the race.

It was a gorgeous spring day, and you got the feeling that the moment and the park represented a kind of closure after last year's bombings.

— Eyder Peralta

Author Gabriel Garcia Marquez dies

Nobel prize-winning Colombian author Gabriel Garcia Marquez has died in Mexico aged 87, his family says.

Garcia Marquez was considered one of the greatest Spanish-language authors, best known for his masterpiece of magical realism, One Hundred Years of Solitude.

The 1967 novel sold more than 30 million copies and he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1982.

Garcia Marquez had been ill and had made few public appearances recently.

He achieved fame for pioneering magical realism, a unique blending of the marvellous and the mundane in a way that made the extraordinary seem routine.

With his books, he brought Latin America's charm and teaming contradictions to life in the minds of millions of people.

Continue reading the main story

“Start Quote

Your life (...) will be remembered by all of us as a unique and singular gift”

ShakiraColombian pop star

'Greatest Colombian'

"Gabriel Garcia Marquez has died," a spokeswoman for the family, Fernanda Familiar, said on Twitter.

"[His wife] Mercedes and her sons, Rodrigo and Gonzalo, have authorised me to provide the information. Such deep sadness," she added.

Colombian President Juan Manuel Santos also took to Twitter to pay tribute to the author.

"One Hundred Years of Solitude and sadness for the death of the greatest Colombian of all time," he wrote.

US President Barack Obama said the world had "lost one of its greatest visionary writers - and one of my favourites from the time I was young".

Former US President Bill Clinton also said: "I was always amazed by his unique gifts of imagination, clarity of thought, and emotional honesty. I was honoured to be his friend and to know his great heart and brilliant mind for more than 20 years."

The cause of Garcia Marquez's death was not immediately known but he was recently hospitalised for a lung and urinary tract infection in Mexico City.Poor health

He was sent home last week but his health was said to be "very fragile" because of his age.

The BBC's Will Grant in Mexico City says his loss will be particularly felt in his native Colombia but in Mexico too, which for more than 30 years became his adopted home.

Mexican President Enrique Pena Nietotweeted: "On behalf of Mexico, I express sorrow over the death of one of the greatest writers of our time."

Colombian pop star Shakira said "Gabo", as the author was affectionately known, would "always be in my heart".

"Your life, dear Gabo, will be remembered by all of us as a unique and singular gift," the singer said.

Peruvian Nobel prize-winning author Mario Vargas Llosa called him a "great writer".

"His works gave literature great reach and prestige. His novels will survive and will continue to find new readers everywhere," he told Peruvian media.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez's other works include Love in the Time of Cholera, Chronicle of a Death Foretold and The General in His Labyrinth.

Controversy

The novelist was also an accomplished journalist whose reporting shone in his work News of a Kidnapping.

The non-fiction book recounted high-profile abductions by the Medellin drug cartel run by Pablo Escobar, a notorious Colombian drug lord who died in 1993.

The novelist was at times a political figure too.

His friendship with the former Cuban President Fidel Castro sparked some controversy among literary and political circles in Latin America.

But he insisted their friendship was based on books.

"Fidel is a very cultured man," he said in an interview. "When we're together we talk about literature."

Unlike other authors in the region, his work transcended Latin America with One Hundred Years of Solitude, which was translated into more than 30 languages.

The Chilean poet and Nobel Laureate Pablo Neruda called the novel "the greatest revelation in the Spanish language since Don Quixote", the 17th-century masterpiece by Spain's Miguel de Cervantes.

Man with 'hoax device' frays nerves at Boston Marathon site

Shortly after ceremonies ended Tuesday to commemorate the one year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombing, two backpacks in the area of the Boylston Street finish line raised concerns of police, who evacuated the neighborhood.

The Boston Police Department called in the bomb squad and performed what is known as a "controlled disruption" of the bags, police department spokesman David Estrada said.

Police arrested a man who is the owner of the bags, Estrada said, although later police reports indicated the man owned only one of the backpacks. Police charged the man with possession of a hoax device, disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct.

One of the backpacks held a rice cooker inside, police said.

An officer noticed the man behaving suspiciously and stopped the man, who then dropped his backpack, Police Superintendent Randall Halstead said.

ONE YEAR LATER: Boston remembers marathon victims, honors survivors

Halstead would not say who might have owned the second backpack or what was inside.

Estrada was not sure what method was used to "disrupt" the bags. "They have different methods – sometimes water cannon, sometimes a little bit of explosives."

The neighborhood was still cordoned off at about 10 p.m. Tuesday, according to Estrada. The incident happened at about 6:50 p.m.

Earlier, crowds gathered to remember the four who died in connection with the April 15, 2013, bombing at the finish line and the hundreds who were injured. Many of those who lost limbs in the incident took part. Some of the crowds who had come downtown to see the ceremony and honor victims had left the downtown area when the backpack incident took place, Estrada said.

HELPING THE SURVIVORS: One Run for Boston coast-to-coast relay crosses finish line

RECOVERING FROM HORROR: Marathon inspires pay-it-forward movement

The backpack incident at around the time spectators were celebrating brothers Paul and J.P. Norden, both of whom lost legs after the 2013 bombing and both of whom on Tuesday walked the entire 26.2-mile marathon course. Runners Christy Zuroweste and Shaun Steele of Joplin, Mo., said they had just the brothers cross the finish line when they overheard a voice on a police officer's radio say something about a backpack. Both were in town for Sunday's finale to the One Run for Boston charity relay and Steele will run the Boston Marathon next week.

"They sounded frantic," said Zuroweste, 37, of the voice on the police radio. "It was like a distressed kind of thing."

Suddenly, the police started telling people to get out of the area.

"They were just like, 'Get off the street. Get out, go. You've got to go right now,' " said Steele, 42.

Running coach Laura Ingalls was at Heartbreak Hill at about mile 21 of the marathon last year when the bombs went off. She was guiding runners to the end of the 26.2-mile race when they were pulled off the course. She was able to charge her phone at a stranger's house and hear from their television what was going on. When she told her runners what was happening, some went into hysterics, she said.

Authorities eventually guided the group to a local church, where they were able to get snacks and water and, for those who needed it after running 21 miles, medical attention, Ingalls said.

On Tuesday, Ingalls was waiting inside a restaurant right near the finish line for Zuroweste, Steele and other friends when she heard what happened. Authorities would let no one leave for almost three hours, she said. Tuesday's incident brought back for her all that happened last year and made her angry, she said.

"Those survivors have become our symbol of hope and to think of what they must have gone through emotionally" when the incident happened, said Ingalls, 34, of Newton, Mass. "I'm really trying to calm down. It was infuriating."

Game Of Thrones 'The Lion And The Rose' [season 4, episode 2]

Spoilers. Spoilers spoilers spoilers. Are we good now? All right, let’s dig into “The Lion And The Rose,” which isn’t a particularly thrilling episode of Game Of Thrones, but does feature one giant event that most fans of the show have been waiting for since the very beginning.

I’m convinced that most of the people who profess publicly that they haven’t read theSong Of Ice And Fire books actually know most of what’s going to happen on the show. (I haven’t read the books. I know what’s going to happen. I’m not scared of spoilers. It is what it is.) There’s not much else to explain this piece, which stakes an early claim on “predicting” Joffrey’s death this season. And in true Game Of Thrones fashion, there’s no delay getting to that event. It’s shockingly cathartic for the object of most fans’ ire to sputter and expire in the second installment of a 10-episode season. King Joffrey is dead. Long live the equally illegitimate King Tommen.

George R.R. Martin writes one episode of the series each year. He wrote “The Pointy End” back in season one, which covered the immediate aftermath of Ned’s imprisonment after attempting to reveal Joffrey’s true lineage. In season two he took the big battle episode “Blackwater,” still one of the high watermarks for the series. And last year Martin wrote “The Bear And The Maiden Fair,” notable for its final scene where Jamie rescues Brienne from a fight with a bear. “The Lion And The Rose” is the first episode written by Martin that falls in the first half of a season—but it’s clear from the dialogue that he’s responsible, and by the end it’s obvious why he chose to craft this part of the story himself.

In comparison to someone like Robb Stark, who was built up as a boring but likeable guy, an underdog to root for because of what happened to his father Ned, Joffrey is nothing more than a pissant. He’s a contemptible little cockroach who does nothing but snipe at those around him out of sheer boredom and in the eyes of most viewers deserved a far more excruciating death. But there’s a sinister poetry to his death at a wedding, after all immediate threats have been removed. This is the chaos of Westeros, where siege threats can be thwarted by magical fire, White Walkers roam the frozen North, and the most dangerous place for a King seems to be a royal wedding. Yes, that means that characters who traditionally would end up the conquering heroes are cut down before following through on that classical arc. But it also means that the evildoers, sinister little cretins who do nothing but destroy all hope for happiness in the world, can die early and without warning as well.

Game Of Thrones doesn’t have the same gleeful attitude toward Joffrey’s death as I imagine many viewers will. (Truth be told, the group I people I watched with sat with clenched fists as the tension grew, then burst out with rapturous joy when the episode concluded.) It treats the occurrence like any other significant event, given a weighty boost from dramatic music. Joffrey begins to cough—anyone who knew what would happen watched on pins and needles every time he brought the cup to his lips—and then sputters uncontrollably, while Cersei and Jamie (his true parents) struggle hopelessly to save him. This is the fate that can befall those in power—especially those who make new enemies daily by inflicting cruelly unnecessary punishment on everyone around.

And there are plenty of people who would want to see him dead. Oberyn Martell is a leading candidate, though he seems intent on the rape and torture of his enemies, so that they suffer as much as his sister did during Robert’s Rebellion. As such, simply poisoning the king’s wine cup seems beneath his penchant for theatricality. His conversation with Cersei and Tywin during the feats is but one of a handful of tense and wonderful scenes between subtly warring parties. The Martells and Lanniesters are joined in a marriage alliance thanks to Cersei’s daughter, but it’s one of political convenience. These families don’t like each other, don’t subscribe to the same social values, and the peace between them is tenuous at best.

Sansa is far too emotionally traumatized to come up with anything like this, but in the cacophony of Joffrey’s death, the King’s fool—the man who gifted Sansa a necklace in the premiere—tells her to follow him in order to escape. Clearly some kind of plan was in place there, designed to give Sansa an avenue to depart, only with an unseen hand creating the opportunity.

Then there’s Tyrion, Cersei’s suspect of choice. He’s the one serving as cupbearer, sure, but it appears that sometime between Joffrey’s first sip and the pie being served that some poison got slipped into the drink. And there’s certainly the appearance of motive, since Joffrey relentlessly torments his uncle with drinks over the head, a troupe of performing dwarves, demands to bend a knee, and constant insults. Plus, Tyrion receives news earlier in the episode from Varys that both his sister and father know about Shae. So Tyrion redoubles his efforts to ensure her safety, rejecting her with insulting words he doesn’t mean, intended to inflict pain on Shae so that she’ll agree to get on a boat across the Narrow Sea. Bronn sees her off and confirms the departure.

But Tyrion has only attempted to keep the peace among his siblings this season. He shares a meal with Jamie where he counsels his brother and tells him to seek out Bronn as a trustworthy sparring partner to train with his left hand. (That’s really the only comedic scene of the episode.) And he gifts Joffrey a book about past kings, meant as a gentle urge toward wisdom instead of arrogant, violent excess—which Joffrey quickly rejects, slicing the book to pieces with his new Valyrian sword. Joffrey was rash and unable to heed warnings, and now he’s been poisoned dead by one of his countless enemies. Tyrion though, is one of the most calculating characters on the show, needing all of his cunning to stay alive when so many of his own family members want him dead—but even that might not be enough to save him. The good and the bad all have to die sometime. It’s the great equalizer, regardless of personality or reputation.

Cersei and Jamie both insert themselves into little political squabbles at various points during the wedding. Jamie confronts Loris over his impending marriage to Cersei, directly stating that his sister will have Loris (and any potential child) killed rather than let the wedding go through. Cersei intercepts Maester Pycelle creepily cornering a young girl, and tells him to leave and feed the feast scraps to the dogs, directly contradicting Margaery’s edit (credited to the King) that the leftovers will go to fee the city’s poor. Cersei has been slowly losing her grip on power throughout the past season, as her son grew older and more depraved, and she’s pushed out as Queen Regent now that there’s an actual Queen in Margaery Tyrell. But in light of the episode’s ending, all of this shuffling and squabbling seems rather moot. Jockeying for position under one monarch is meaningless once that person has shuffled off this mortal coil and yet another figurehead gets installed. There’s a lot that happens in this episode, depicting all the little conflicts that dot the political landscape of King’s Landing, and all of them will intensify now that Joffrey has gurgled blood.

Okay, so that’s the end of King Joffrey of Houses Baratheon and Lannister. But this episode also checks in on a few locations that didn't make the cut for the premiere. Those all basically serve as the final initial drop-ins on the goings on around Westeros. Roose Bolton returns from the Red Wedding to his house seat at the Dreadfort. His bastard son Ramsay Snow continues to act like a sadistic jackass, hunting down a random girl for sport and letting dogs tear her apart in the opening scene. Oh, and Theon is still his prisoner, only dehumanized beyond recognition. He answers to the name “Reek” now, and has been tortured into such docility he will shave Ramsay with a straight razor, listen to news that Robb Stark is dead, and keep performing the task. His fate continues to draw out tragically, but the little bit of plot here is that Bolton has been made Warden of the North, only without any help from Tywin Lannister to take or hold those lands.

Over in Dragonstone, Stannis obeys Melisandre and burns heretics still praying to the old Gods on giant pyres, including his wife’s brother. It’s clear that Stannis and his mad wife Sylese don’t get along much, though it’s curious that a big point of contention is how to treat their daughter, the disfigured Shireen. Stannis doesn’t see her much, but wants her cared for without corporal punishiment. Sylese, a devout believer in the Lord Of Light, believes her daughter is stubborn and sinful, and deserves the rod. As a compromise, Melisandre talks to the girl, and it’s here where Martin gets out the episode distilled down into a single, easily quotable line: “There is only one hell: the one we live in now.” An apt description of a world where being in power only increases the size of the target on your back and two consecutive weddings have ended with key political assassinations. It’s not just the night that is dark and full of terrors—all hours of the day must now fear the unexpected wrath of cruel fate.

Extra Thoughts

• Here’s one more round of applause for Jack Gleeson, who has been television’s most hated villain since 2011. He says he might retire from acting now that his stint on the show has ended, and in a way that makes me sad, but imbuing an iconic character with such malice is a tough thing to do on a consistent basis, and Gleeson did that masterfully.

• Up in the North, Bran, Jojen, Meera, and Hodor continue to seek out the three-eyed raven. Bran has been spending too much time in the mind of his direwolf, but later touches a tree, has a vision, and knows where they need to go. Mostly foreshadowing, but that vision sequence was quite engrossing in all that it encompassed.

• The Martells and Tyrells have names far too similar for me to accurately distinguish them at all times. Just wanted to make a note that I’m like everyone else in getting confused by the hundreds of characters swirling around in this story.

Published 10:06 pm Sun, Apr 13, 2014

Pacquiao beats Bradley, but dominant Manny of the past is gone Read More

LAS VEGAS -- As the final rounds unfolded on Saturday night, Manny Pacquiao stalked Timothy Bradley. He followed Bradley into corners, around the ring, everywhere but into Bradley's lap between rounds. Pacquiao wanted a knockout. In many ways, he needed a knockout. He looked for the knockout.

He did not find one.

This is where Pacquiao is at now: not at the end of his career, but near it. He is still an elite boxer, one of the two best of his generation, still very, very good. But the old Pacquiao, the guy whose left hand dizzied and dismantled foes, the guy who knocked out Ricky Hatton and stopped Miguel Cotto? He's gone. Has been for a while now.

The old Pacquiao has been replaced by an older one.

That happens. That's boxing, perhaps the sport where the aging process is most pronounced. No one is immune, not even a transcendent talent like Pacquiao.

He beat Bradley on Saturday night at the MGM Grand Garden Arena, and that beat the alternative, like when they met here in 2012 and Bradley secured a victory that seemed to surprise even him. Pacquiao won the rematch by unanimous decision, no controversy evident or necessary, the fight not all that close.

"I didn't want to get careless," Pacquiao said.

Pacquiao stung Bradley with left hands. He backed Bradley into corners. He took some shots, too, even one that hurt him. But in every measurable way -- pace controlled and blows landed and shots dodged -- Pacquiao out-classed another challenger who insisted he would retire him.

But Pacquiao and his handlers and his promoters spent all week, spent months, really, emphasizing the importance of aggression and brutality and, ultimately, a knockout. Pacquiao, for all the skill he displayed again on Saturday, never came close to that.

He did land 148 power punches at a 43-percent clip. He did throw way more power punches than jabs. He looked good. Just not Manny Pacquiao 2009 good.

Those in boxing that have not yet accepted that fact should do so now. They should appreciate Pacquiao for what he was and what he now is. Even if that is no longer a knockout king.

You could make the argument that Floyd Mayweather Jr. also won on Saturday, the same as he won when Saul "Canelo" Alvarez dominated Alfredo Angulo the way that Mayweather dominated him. I like 2009 Pacquiao's chances against Mayweather. The Pacquiao of 2014? Not so much.

Pacquiao entered the ring first, a strange sight owing to his status as the challenger. His entrance music -- again, with the Katy Perry -- did little to dispel the notion he had gone at least softer.

The dispelling started in Round 2, as Pacquiao shook Bradley with a left and pounced. He backed Bradley into a corner, landed left after left on Bradley's face.

In Round 4, Bradley loaded up and stepped into a vicious right hand that wobbled Pacquiao. He tapped his gloves together afterward, as if to say, didn't hurt that bad. Unlike in their first meeting, when Pacquiao let up near the end, he controlled the rematch more as it went on. He ducked a right from Bradley that sent Bradley spinning into the ropes in Round 9. He dominated the rest of the way.

For years now, every Pacquiao fight has felt like a step closer to the end. His will to finish off opponents went missing first. Like when he battered Antonio Margarito at Cowboys Stadium and could be seen in later rounds asking, "Are you OK?" Or when he played patty cake with Shane Mosley in what amounted to a glorified sparring session. Some of Pacquiao's sting went next. Not speed, but that power that came with it.

That is how Pacquiao arrived here, at another career crossroads, at another referendum on the prospects of his (Impeding? Nearing? Far away?) retirement. His last knockout occurred nearly five years ago, in 2009, when so many sharp left hands shook, bruised and bloodied Miguel Cotto's face.

Bradley joined the legion of observers to cite Pacquiao's turn away from the aggression that defined his Hall of Fame career, his killer instinct -- whatever that means -- gone according to the critics. Bradley told Pacquiao that as they prepared for their rematch, and his comments, direct, honest, pointed, ruffled the normally unflappable Pacquiao. Truth is, Bradley angered him. Truth hurts.

Thus when Pacquiao entered the ring Saturday, even his advisor, Michael Koncz, said he needed to not only win but win by knockout. Victory alone no longer appeared sufficient. By night's end, it would have to be.

Even as Bradley bothered him, Pacquiao seemed looser, happier and less fatigued by the events of another fight week than in recent years. He posted playlists of his favorite training songs on Twitter. He smiled more. He hosted Bible study sessions at night.

His entourage had returned to its previous swollen size -- "like the old days," said Bob Arum, his promoter, and by old days, he meant the glory years, circa 2008 or 2009. To Freddie Roach, Pacquiao's trainer, the size of Team Pacquiao spoke less to potential distractions and more to Pacquiao's performance in his comeback fight last November against Brandon Rios. After judges gifted Bradley victory over Pacquiao in their first meeting, after Juan Manuel Marquez knocked him out cold, he needed an emphatic victory -- which he got, sort of, diminished only slightly because Rios went the distance.

"A lot of people gave up on Manny a little bit," Roach said earlier this week. "Because he looked so good in that last fight, they all came back."

Bradley's "victory" in 2012 seemed to bother Roach more than it did Pacquiao. He watched their first fight several times and each time he struggled to see what the judges had seen -- Bradley winning. Pacquiao out-landed Bradley 259-159. Three people in the boxing world said Bradley won, namely the boxer and the two judges who scored it in his favor.

Not this time. Roach said Pacquiao was "a little sloppy" on Saturday. That's fair.

Soon, Pacquiao will head back to the Philippines and return to his political duties as a Congressman. His wife is scheduled to give birth to their fifth child, a boy named Israel, later this month. He is likely to surpass $700 million in Pay-Per-View revenue generated when Saturday's total is included. A run for Senate looms.

All that begs the question that will loom over Pacquiao from now until he retires. How much longer? How much longer can he fight, and at what level? Pacquiao says two years. That sounds about right. The end is near, just not here yet.

Ultimately, Bradley was wrong. He could not beat, could not retire Pacquiao. But he was also right. The Pacquiao who once ruled boxing with savage aggression seems gone now. For good.

Coachella Music Festival 2014 Day 1 (photos)

Kaycie Hall, of Modesto, Calif., performs a handstand on the Empire Polo Field during day one at the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

The "Escape Velocity" moving sculpture by artist group Poetic Kinetics looms over Coachella festivalgoers on the Empire Polo Field on the first day of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Lizzy Plapinger of MS MR performs during the band's set on day one of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Lizzy Plapinger of MS MR performs during the band's set on day one of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Lizzy Plapinger, left, and Max Hershenow of MS MR perform during the band's set on day one of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Flatbush Zombies performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Bethany Mollenkoff/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Tom Odell performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Alice Hamer, 22, of Bath, England, watches Tom Odell perform on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

The first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio starts out hot and wet at the Do Lab in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Bots performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Bethany Mollenkoff/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

The sun reflects brightly on mirrored works of art as the gates open and participants take selfies on the the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Flatbush Zombies performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Bethany Mollenkoff/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Bots performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Bethany Mollenkoff/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

A man is dwarfed by a giant robot art sculpture on the Empire Polo Grounds on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Luis Sinco/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Matt White walks through the Empire Polo Field on stilts during day one of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Coachella festivalgoers arrive at Empire Polo Field on day one of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Coachella festivalgoers arrive on day one of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Flatbush Zombies performs on the first day of the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on Friday, April 11, 2014. (Bethany Mollenkoff/Los Angeles Times/MCT) 

Woody Reveles, left, and Imanda Gordon, of San Diego, Calif., dance to the performance of Anthony Green during day one of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 

Lisa Cole, left, and boyfriend Ralzotti Duffield watch the set of Anthony Green during day one of the 2014 Coachella Music and Arts Festival on Friday, April 11, 2014, in Indio, Calif. (Photo by Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP)