Manny Pacquiao (right) connects with a left against Miguel Cotto. Pacquiao won against his Puerto Rican opponent to become the first boxer ever to win seven boxing titles in seven different divisions. (AP)

The list of parties who've contacted promoter Bob Arum in hopes of hosting a mega-fight between Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather include the Yankees and the Mets, the Jets and the Giants, the Cowboys, a consortium of Nevada businessmen, and a former Presidential advisor.

First off, you can forget about Yankee Stadium or Citi Field, where municipal, state and other assorted taxes would result in a 15 percent levy against the combatants’ purses.

“There’s no conceivable way the fight can take place in New York City because of the tax structure,” Arum said.

New Jersey, where the Jets and Giants play, isn’t much better, unless your lobbyist is a Soprano. More promising is an idea advanced by Bill Clinton’s former consigliere, James Carville. Under that scenario, Pacquiao and Mayweather would meet in New Orleans’ Superdome.

“Louisiana has a much smaller tax," said Arum. “And Carville is talking to the governor about getting a waiver.”

Then there’s Texas, with no state income tax, and a stadium that holds up to 111,000 for football.

And don’t forget Las Vegas, where Arum says he has a group willing to build a makeshift outdoor stadium to seat 30,000.

Not bad for a dead sport, huh?

Actually, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that boxing isn’t dead. Rather more astonishing is the identity of its latest, greatest savior: an undersized Filipino who barely speaks English.

It’s long been said that promotions featuring Manny Pacquiao suffer from the language barrier. Even worse, he’s afflicted with a terrible case of good manners. He’s polite and respectful and entirely unwilling to disrespect or diminish his opponents.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Manny Pacquiao is the absolute worst interview in all of sports. By the same token, I don’t know anyone — with the recent exception of Mayweather — who doesn’t like and admire the guy.

There’s an ingenuous quality about him. And it’s particularly refreshing to jaded American sports fans. Look around. You’ve got an inexhaustible supply of tatted twitterers, legions of smarmy college coaches, and a generation of chemically enhanced cheaters. Everyone’s got an angle. Even the guys who were supposed to be pure turn out to be calculated hustlers, looking for that edge. Take Brett Favre, for example. Sure, he’ll play for love of the game, but only if he can run his favorite offense and hand off to Adrian Peterson.

Pacquiao, by contrast, just fights. The world has never seen a happier, more contented pugilist. What’s more, he’s made history. A fighter who began at 106 pounds suddenly finds himself the welterweight champ. He is undefeated at 140 pounds or above, having ended Oscar De La Hoya’s career in nine rounds, demolished Ricky Hatton in two, and now, overwhelming Miguel Cotto, another formidable welterweight champion Mayweather managed not to fight.

At those weights, said Arum, “Manny is taking real risk every time he performs.”

Then again, those merrily accepted risks are very much appreciated. Despite the recession, and a pricing scheme that asks $64.95 to see a fight in HD, Arum expects pay-per-view numbers for Pacquiao-Cotto to fall between one million and 1.5 million buys.