Dear Kuya Manny: Please retire at 60

‘Sports breathes from hope and to engage in sports is a way to relieve the different forms of stress of life. However, if used the improper way, it can be lethal. A promise of solace can be turned into a nightmare that can haunt the minds of people. That’s exactly what you did, Kuya.’

Advertisements

Dear Kuya Manny,

In a true Filipino fashion, can I call you ‘Kuya’ since I’ve always seen you as an older brother? How are you? How are the bruises? I hope you’re recovering well.

I learned that you had another bout when my sister’s husband called and inquired about its result while we’re having lunch last Sunday.

“Have you watched the fight?” my sister asked while holding her smartphone. “Who won?”

“What fight?” I responded.

“The Pacquiao fight” she replied. “You don’t know?”

I paused for a moment not just because of cluelessness but also because every little reason why I stopped caring about any news about you all came back to me. The horror you single-handedly inflicted into my consciousness three years ago saw the light of the tunnel again. Piece by piece. Detail by detail. Pound for pound.

May 3, 2015. Sunday. “The Fight of the Century.” It’s you versus Floyd Mayweather Jr. SM Megamall Cinema 3. Pay per view. 2 tickets. I was sitting next to my younger brother Ronnel. The 12-round match has ended. Jimmy Lennon Jr. announced the winner. Cheers were replaced by sighs. Nobody wanted to leave the theater. We were shocked. “Is that it?” the old man sitting across me shouted in exasperation. We waited for the climax of the movie pictured mentally by hundreds of millions of fans all over the world: Mayweather, the nemesis – blank-faced, defeated on the canvas after being hit by you in a barrage of uppercuts and right hooks. It never happened.

No, it’s not that we lost that made it unforgettable. It’s the difficult truth hidden behind the curtain that consumed me. You made me despise boxing. The sport died for me on that day.

During a post-fight interview, you revealed that you had entered that fight with a pre-existing shoulder injury and then further injured that area during the fourth round of the contest. When I heard this, my heart wanted to explode. I couldn’t believe it. It felt like I have been deceived with my two eyes wide open by you, the same man who had told in his pre-fight interview: “Don’t get nervous… I’m the one fighting, so relax.”

I watched every possible discussion that one can view online because of the hype everyone has poured for that momentous event. Boxing greats, analysts, and even superstars from other sports became involved and gave their take on who would emerge victorious. It was billed as the modern era’s Joe Frazier versus Muhammad Ali contest. But nobody saw it coming – the lie of the century.

Kuya, it was the first time in my entire life that I decided to buy tickets and watch a fight of yours on pay per view. I had watched all your previous fights on tv and on Youtube. To me and probably just like the million others around the world, it was an attempt to be part of history; to be able to tell myself decades later, if God will permit, that I was there with you in every blow, in every jab, in every hook. It was my humble way of supporting you. But again, I was wrong. You and your camp had a different view the entire time. The world expected a clash of titans with no injury report divulged to the public. Everyone assumed that you were at 100% or almost at the peak of your strength and so tickets have been sold out.

Kuya Manny, a few days after your Mayweather fight, I tried to convince myself that you had hidden the truth for the fight to not be postponed because the other camp might use it a reason to back out. I understand that you had been luring Mayweather for the fight to be realized for so many years. Is that more important than your integrity, reputation and dignity as a man? And just like that, you moved on from one fight to another as if nothing happened.

Sports breathes from hope and to engage in sports is a way to relieve the different forms of stress of life. However, if used the improper way, it can be lethal. A promise of solace can be turned into a nightmare that can haunt the minds of people. That’s exactly what you did, Kuya.

But who am I compared to your greatness? Why should I hold a grudge to you after everything that you’ve done? Is it too hard to forgive another human being and forget all the heartaches?

Whenever I see you in the news or whenever your name surfaces in my conversations with my colleagues and friends, I remember how you made me feel. You brought another exceptional dimension to the word “Filipino” in the international stage. You’re “The Filipino Pride” and “The People’s Champ” and you’ve shown the world what we’re made of.

Yours is a beautiful rags-to-riches story: a mighty warrior who became affluent because of his grit, passion, persistence, and determination. As a storyteller, I fell in love with it. Is it too much to ask for a story book ending in your part?

In his final NBA game, your good friend Los Angeles Lakers superstar Kobe Bryant astoundingly scored 60 points on 22 of 50 shooting against Utah Jazz in 2016. A number of spectators were standing and jumping in the Staples Center arena out of excitement. The mood was festive. Hollywood A-listers were in attendance. He was blessed with an epic ending which is rare for sports legends in history. He retired a winner. After bagging your 60th career win, you have the power to retire a champion.

At 2:43 of the 7th round, you convincingly showed the world what’s left in your tank after defeating the much younger Argentine boxer Lucas Matthysse by TKO and earned the WBA Welterweight title.

But just like a younger brother to his kuya, I hope you retire now from boxing and enjoy more time with your family and loved ones. I’m worried that you might seriously get hurt on your next fight and bid goodbye to the sport you’re passionate about because your mind and body have given up on you. I’m concerned about how your wife Jinkee, your kids, and mommy Dionisia would react if they’ll see you in an unspeakable state. You have nothing else to prove.

Also, please reach out to the LGBTQ+ community and all of those you have offended before. Embrace them with open arms and patiently search for the common ground for us to move forward. I believe you have the heart to spark a real change to the sufferings of our fellowmen. I pray that your health will be at its summit to battle against the more valuable, salient, and pressing issues and challenges that we face as a people in the future. Because your loss is our loss and your win is our win.

Finally, I hope you lend your ears this time.

Sincerely yours,

Ben

(Various versions of this piece appeared on The Sports Column, Read Boxing, Boxing Insider, and United States Sports Academy’s The Sport Digest in July, 2018.)

Getting over the “Fight of the Century”

“Sports breathes from hope. And to engage yourself in sports is a way to relieve the different forms of stress of life. However, if used the improper way, it can be lethal. A promise of escape from reality can be turned into a nightmare that will forever haunt the minds of people.”

CHEERS WERE replaced by sighs. Nobody wanted to leave the theater. We were shocked. Everybody hoped that maybe Jimmy Lennon Jr. read the scores incorrectly. “‘Yun na ‘yon (Is that it)?”, the old man sitting beside me shouted in exasperation. We waited for the climax of the movie pictured mentally by hundreds of millions of fans all over the world – Mayweather, the wife-batterer – blank-faced, defeated, on the canvas after being hit by Pacquiao in a barrage of punches in every angle. It never came.

We were fooled. We are living in a country facing international conflicts on the West Philippine Sea and the government is “exhausting all efforts for the lives of the 88 Filipinos in death row” including the much-publicized Mary Jane Veloso who has “innocent face and will break your heart” as described by Neal Cruz. Poverty is all over the place. Some children roam around the streets of Manila with no clothes on. MRT and LRT have become havens for pickpockets and other thieves. 44 members of the PNP-SAF were massacred, most of them on a cornfield, exposed to enemy fires. Corruption is rampant in almost all levels. And as a passionate people, we placed our hopes in Pacquiao’s powerful fists that we might forget all these, on that bright, glorious day. That we can laugh our hearts out after 6 years of expecting. But then again, it never happened. His camp revealed that he injured his arm weeks before the fight. We believed that “I’ll be at my best come May 2nd”. Or should I say, “We were made to believe”?

Sports breathes from hope. And to engage yourself in sports is a way to relieve the different forms of stress of life. However, if used the improper way, it can be lethal. A promise of escape from reality can be turned into a nightmare that will forever haunt the minds of people.

Looking back, Pacquiao fought a good fight. He never backed down. It takes greatness and strength to take a punch or two to finally get inside Mayweather’s defense and launch one good shot either on the head or to the body. Pacquiao lost some credibility for not disclosing his real condition before the fight.

Boxing has faced one of its deaths that day. At least, the curiosity and interest of millions for boxing may rest within themselves. And while I look forward to Lebron James and the Cavs bagging a championship from one of the major sports in the US for the people of Cleveland, I still cannot believe how expensive the tickets were of the memorial service I attended on May 2. That was the day when I first saw vibrant and lively fans transformed into zombies in a matter of minutes, walking slowly towards the exit – to go home.