Cebu Sports Blog by John Pages

Silver-silver for golden SWU?

(Photo by KC Cruz/GMA Network)

Coach Yayoy was realistic. When you’ve coached basketball for over three decades, you know the odds. He knew the odds did not favor his SWU versus De La Salle Univ.

True enough, in yesterday’s first quarter, SWU scored eight points against the 21 from DLSU. After a 13-all split in the 2nd quarter, it was another blowout in the 3rd: La Salle made 20 points; Southwestern only 11. By the start of the 4th quarter — the time when I arrived home to catch the final minutes — the Green Archers led by 22 points. It was game over by then. It was not until the 4th quarter when SWU played all-out, aggressive and attacking. But it was too late. They cut the lead to nine but it wasn’t enough. Final score: 64-54.

Still, it’s only Game 1. There’s still today’s second encounter — a meeting the Cebuanos hope won’t be the last. If, miraculously, SWU wins to tie the PCCL Finals series, Game 3 is tomorrow.

IF. That’s a big “if” we can steal one game. Actually, we did. In the preliminary rounds, we defeated the same Taft Ave.-based school. Only this time, the UAAP champions were focused and relentless. Even if we lose today, SWU will come home as proud warriors. They’ll stand tall with necks straight-up — just like a mighty cobra. These Cobras did Cebu proud. Losing finalists in a heart-breaking Cesafi final against UV here at the Cebu Coliseum, this squad was not given a chance to advance in the PCCL.

“We already have a ticket tomorrow morning,” Coach Yayoy said a few days ago, right after they defeated FEU in the semifinals. “I told the boys, we haven’t even arrived yet but they’re already sending us home.”

That’s a witty statement from Provincial Board Member Raul Alcoseba. Sadly, they might be sent home tomorrow if they lose today. Silver in Cesafi; silver in the PCCL? We hope not for the gold-colored Cobras.

Unbelievable shot

[youtube]http://youtu.be/2Y03WTTBvno[/youtube]

Tacloban rises and runs

(All photos from lapiskamay.wordpress.com)

Lester Tabada emailed me yesterday. “I’m a runner from Southern Leyte,” he wrote. “I ran for Tacloban City.”

Last Sunday, exactly one month after the strongest typhoon on earth decimated Visayas, a band of runners decided to do the unthinkable: They decided to run. For 10 kilometers. Around Tacloban’s streets. “We decided to rise up and run,” declared Lester, “to show the people of Tacloban that we are stronger than Yolanda!”

Their race bibs were made of tarpaulin. The runners, instead of writing numbers, inscribed messages of gratitude and hope on the plain white tarpaulin. Some wrote “Wag mawawalan ng Pag-asa,” “Thank You World,” “Thank You Paul Walker,” and “DTI what happened to the Price Freeze.” Lester, who penned the inspiring story in his blog, Lester Pencilhands (lapiskamay.wordpress.com), wrote on his bib: “Anderson 360 for President (Thank U CNN).”

Last Sunday, he said, was a comeback run. “Most of the Tacloban runners who showed up were having their first run since Yolanda,” he said. “But it suddenly transformed into a fun run the moment we agreed to steel that ‘Tindog Tacloban’ tarpaulin near the City Hall.

“We made it as our banner for that hope rally. I believe it was a spontaneous turn of events that led to us running not only for ourselves and our goals but also for the city and its people. We wanted to show them Hope through running. We wanted the Taclobanons to see us running back again to tell them ‘We are stronger than Yolanda.’ That is the goal of our instant fun run. No registration fees, no singlets, no water stations, no marshals. Only Hope.”

They converged at the front of the DYVL. Starting at Romualdez St., they ran to Imelda St., then to Real St. and all the way to Coca-Cola. That was the first 5K. “These are the major streets of downtown Tacloban City, where the most number of people can see us,” Lester said. With the second half of the race, from Coke, they traversed to the hardest hit barangays of San Jose. The finish line: Tacloban airport.

Along the way, the nearly 20 runners chanted “Tindog Tacloban” in unison. “The people couldn’t help but notice and be amazed,” said Lester. “People were clapping at us, waving at us, taking pictures… It was such an amazing experience, like something taken out of those sports movies.”

It was, as described by Lester in one word, magical. “It was a great feeling to finally be able to run after a month of hardships and heartbreaks,” he added. “Tacloban runners could hardly run before that day because they were shocked and freaked-out of dead bodies lying in the streets. Most of them lost their houses and members of the family.

“I think some showed up wearing borrowed shoes and running gears. And it broke my heart later on when I learned that a close running buddy was not able to run because he lost his running shoes and all his belongings in the flood.

“Nightmares, regrets, desperation, and helplessness; these are the harsh realities these runners have to go through (and overcame) coming into the event. I hope running in the streets in that fateful day brought back a sense of normalcy to them. These are good people trying their best to be strong for each other. That fateful Sunday was the 1st month anniversary since Yolanda devastated our city. It was the day we decided to move on and run once again. Tindog Tacloban!”

PLEA. Lester added: “I only started to run seriously this year. I did 4 half-marathons that started in the 1st Tacloban City Marathon. I was in Cebu too this year for a couple of 16Ks. But there’s one race we Tacloban runners are dreaming of: Cebu City Marathon (CCM) 2014. It was and still is our goal of conquering its 42k. It wil be my 1st Mary! We will be there.

“Sir, I hope there’s something you can do to help the Tacloban runners. Some of them lost everythng. Even old shoes and unused gears, it would be the world to us.”

Nelson Mandela: The fighter who KO’d apartheid

Pele called him “one of the most influential people in my life. He was my hero, my friend.” Muhammad Ali adds: “His was a life filled with purpose and hope – hope for himself, his country and the world. He made us realise we are our brother’s keeper and that our brothers come in all colours.”

The world mourns the death of Nelson Mandela. Imprisoned for 27 years, he emerges from his 8 x 7-foot prison cell not loathing with hatred and revenge but overflowing with peace and forgiveness. Given the depth of his world impact, what many don’t know about Mandela is this: He’s a lover of sports.

BOXING. He was a six-foot-tall heavyweight boxer. “Although I had boxed a bit at Fort Hare, it was not until I had lived in Johannesburg that I took up the sport in earnest,” Mandela wrote in his book, Long Walk to Freedom. “I was never an outstanding boxer. I was in the heavyweight division, and I had neither enough power to compensate for my lack of speed nor enough speed to make up for my lack of power.”

Larry Merchant, TV’s top boxing commentator, recalled interviewing Mandela in 2001. He said that Mandela spoke a lot about Ali, even following closely the heavyweight champ’s career while in prison. “That showed how important Ali was as a political figure and not just as a world-wide celebrity and cultural star,” said Merchant. “He talked about how Ali was an inspiration both to him and to all African people.”

Merchant said that Mandela discussed with him boxing technique and showed him the proper way to unleash a left hook. After their interview, the two posed for a photo, side by side in a boxing stance. Mandela — whose name “Rolihalhala” means troublemaker — was then 82.

In his 1994 autobiography, Mandela talked more about the sport. “I did not enjoy the violence of boxing so much as the science of it. I was intrigued by how one moved one’s body to protect oneself, how one used a strategy both to attack and retreat, how one paced oneself over a match.
“Boxing is egalitarian. In the ring, rank, age, color, and wealth are irrelevant… I never did any real fighting after I entered politics. My main interest was in training; I found the rigorous exercise to be an excellent outlet for tension and stress. After a strenuous workout, I felt both mentally and physically lighter. It was a way of losing myself in something that was not the struggle. After an evening’s workout I would wake up the next morning feeling strong and refreshed, ready to take up the fight again.”

INVICTUS. Last Saturday night, Jasmin and I watched the most inspirational of films. The true story of Mandela and the healing power of sports, “Invictus” stars Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon (as the South African rubgy team captain Francois Pienaar). The two forge a bond that transcended sports. It was the 1995 Rugby World Cup and the movie showed how sports can unite and uplift a nation. Be prepared to shed a few tears. This movie is uplifting! Directed by Clint Eastwood, you have to watch it — especially at this time when the memory of Mr. Mandela shines brightest.

PRESIDENT. Although he was president of South Africa for only one term (1994 to 1999), Mandela’s legacy in sports has been embedded in their nation. Apart from the 1995 Rugby World Cup, they hosted (and won) soccer’s African Cup of Nations in 1996. Years later, he strode midfield, greeted by billions around the globe. It was the 2010 Fifa World Cup in South Africa.

“Sport has the power to change the world,” Mandela once said. “It has the power to inspire. It has the power to unite people in a way that little else does. It speaks to youth in a language they understand. Sport can create hope where once there was only despair. It is more powerful than government in breaking down racial barriers.”

Kobe Bryant: I’m back

No. 24 is here! Kobe Bean Bryant returns today. On his heels, he’ll be wearing Nike’s latest footwear, “Kobe 9.” Like the man called “Black Mamba,” it’s color black stitched with plenty of neon orange and yellow. No ballplayer has more flair than Kobe. He hails from the Land of Hollywood. It’s Los Angeles, where human stars glitter. It’s the movie and entertainment capital of Earth and, among sweaty earthlings, Kobe is the Master Entertainer.

Shortly after reading this article, I’d like you to do something: On your Android or iPad, log-in to YouTube and type “Kobe Seasons of Legend.” You’ll be treated to a 2:08-minute Hollywood movie. Starring? Obviously, number “24.” The video about Kobe’s return is simple yet dramatic; it teems with bravado. Watch it. I did. And I’ll watch his return, too. After 19 missed games with the Lakers (10-9), they’re playing at home. What better homecoming for one of basketball’s all-time best?

Kobe’s not young. At 35, he’s about three months older than his fellow Nike endorser… this Pinoy boxer who’s being charged by the BIR. We don’t know how long Kobe will last. (For comparison, Michael Jordan retired at 40.) Injuries have a way of shortening careers. And this latest injury was lengthy. It started on April 12 when Kobe tore his left Achilles tendon. Days ensued. Weeks passed. Months flew. It’s taken eight months before his return on Dec. 8.

Questions arise: While Kobe’s numbers last year were impressive (27.3 PPG, 6.0 APG and 5.6 RPG), can he match those statistics this season? I doubt it. He didn’t pass through the Pre-Season; those are the games when you warm-up and hone your rusty skills. He’s coming off a long break. Can he do a Rafa Nadal, who was out due to injury for seven months and returned to win 75 of 82 matches for 2013?

To the Kobe fans, this is their Hope. To the Kobe haters (and there are plenty; those who’d prefer LeBron or despise his “buaya” style), they’d love for Superman to tumble. What’s undeniable is this: Kobe is super-competitive. No one strives harder. No one gives 1,000 percent more than KB24. No one is more experienced; he’s played in the league since 1996 and has amassed phenomenal numbers: 15-time All-Stars. The league MVP in 2008. Twice a scoring champion (2006 and 2007). Two-time NBA Finals MVP. Five-time NBA champion with Phil Jackson. Two golds at the Olympics. And, the youngest-ever NBA Slam Dunk champion at 18.

To us here in the Philippines, Kobe is one of the most popular of Americans. He’s been to Manila at least six times, the last one when he did a PR stint for Lenovo in August.

Quinito Henson, our nation’s top sports journalist, wrote an article yesterday in The Phil. Star, “Kobe moved by Pinoy spirit.” Two Sundays ago, we were with Quinito in Macau during Pacquiao’s fight. He’s now in the U.S. and recently interviewed Kobe. Quinito wrote that when Kobe was shown a photo of Typhoon Yolanda victims playing basketball in Tacloban amidst the destruction, Kobe said: “They’re playing, competing and enjoying themselves in the worst of times. Look at us, sometimes we can afford to even say we’re having a bad day. Hey, are we really having a bad day? Those kids out there are smiling, playing basketball in the absolute worst of times. I was very, very moved.”

Mr. Bryant then talked about life: “It’s not success, it’s not about being great, it’s perseverance,” he said. “It’s having a goal, you get knocked down then you get up, you get knocked down and you try again. Eventually, you will get to where you want to go but you’ve got to have the perseverance and determination to get there.”

Finally, speaking about Pinoys, he said, “I don’t know why it is (the bond with Filipinos). The first time I came over to Manila, I played in a 3-on-3 tournament in a mall. It was a great response. Every time I visit, I feel the energy and passion of the fans. They push me to continue to be better to inspire them. I’m very thankful I have that response.”

Salamat, Kobe. Welcome back.

Paul Walker, extreme sports fan

Walker (center) with his MMA buddies

“My motto is, you have to get in a sport a day. Playing a little basketball, volleyball, going out surfing, skating, whatever it is. It’s the best way to live.”

Paul William Walker IV said those words. He was a race car driver. An actor of over two dozen films. He surfed. Weight-lifted. Was on the cover, with chiseled abs like Pacquiao’s, of Men’s Health magazine. He was the father to 15-year-old Meadow. And, like many of us, he loved and played sports.

Sadly, the world mourns his shocking death. To us Filipinos, his death is even more personal. Just moments before his life ended, he did charity work. He helped raise funds for the typhoon victims of Yolanda.

We all know Paul Walker as the blue-eyed star of the Fast and Furious series. But he has two other movies that our family particularly like: Eight Below and Into The Blue.

Based on a true story of an expedition group that left a pack of dogs in the polar base because of a heavy snow storm, Eight Below is an inspiring and moving film.

With Into The Blue, he starred alongside Jessica Alba in a sport that he loves most: surfing. He started in high school (California) and never stopped hitting the beach. “It keeps things grounded for me,” he said of surfing. “It’s where I came from, and it’s who I am. I sometimes struggle, because my job is like the antithesis of what surfing is all about. Surfing’s simple. It’s real.”

Next to car racing, the sport Paul Walker enjoyed most was mixed martial arts. He was a huge UFC fan. In an interview a few years back, he said, “I just thought, wow this is a really cool sport. This is something I’d like to do.”

He enrolled in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. He had a brown belt under Ricardo “Franjinha” Miller in California.

Ronn Shiraki, who owns an MMA gym in Honolulu, recalls a time when Walker called him seven years ago wanting private lessons in Hawaii. The caller simply said he was “Paul” and Shiraki shrugged him off because he was busy with other clients. Weeks later, he found out the caller was Paul Walker. Of the man he’d become very good friends with later, Shiraki said of Walker: “If he wasn’t an actor, he’d probably be very, very good. He would probably be competing in the sport at a very high level.”

Of surfing and MMA, here’s a Men’s Health article entitled “How Paul Walker Got Those Abs.” Written by Daniel Duane, it’s dated Sept. 2005: “Nowadays, the only formal fitness training Walker does is martial arts, which strips unnecessary bulk off his frame while building his speed, balance, flexibility, and coordination. He starts every day with 2 hours of Brazilian jujitsu at a studio near his modest Santa Barbara home, then follows up with an hour of Muay Thai kickboxing. After that, it’s all about the water: ‘If there’s any surf, any fishing, I’ll whip out in the boat.’ That would be the fast rigid-inflatable that allows Walker to rip across to the Channel Islands and catch a few waves, maybe spear a calico bass for dinner, then have a buddy drive while he surfs the boat wake all the way home. And if he’s still itching for a good time after all that, he and some friends might do a few downhill skateboard runs on a quiet canyon road, or take his Nissan Skyline (0 to 60 in 5.2 seconds) to the racetrack.”

Walker also snow-boarded, counting his fall when he tore a tricep and shattered an elbow as one of his worst accidents. Still, he said, “That was not fun. That one hurt. But I’m not giving up extreme sports because I love the adrenaline rush.”

When asked if he was ever scared, he replied, “I’m not afraid of anything. That’s just the way I am. That’s the way my grandfather was. He used to race cars and he had the first 160-mile-per-hour Ford Falcon in the San Fernando valley. And my dad was a two-time Golden Gloves winner, and now he’s into downhill mountain biking and white water rafting. I guess you could say I come from a family of thrill seekers.”

He’ll be missed. And may his motto resonate with all of us: “Get in a sport a day… it’s the best way to live.”

Golden Milo and the elusive gold

Not again. I recall, last year, looking at the face of Ricardo Ballesteros, Jr. We were standing on the oval of the Marikina Sports Complex. It was a Sunday. It was supposed to be an evening of celebration.

Ricky’s face explained it all: a dry smile that transformed into an unhappy frown. We – the Visayas contingent – had won the last three overall championships of the Milo Little Olympics National Finals from 2009 to 2011. The trophy was ours. But, as we stood there in Metro Manila, we had to relinquish it to the hosts. Manila won. Cebu and the Visayas lost. By a mere 11 points! This was last year.

Two nights ago, history did a rewind. This time, by an even more painful margin: six points. NCR garnered 615 total points; Visayas, 609. Ouch.

“Are you sure?” I asked Brando Velasquez, when I heard the miniscule difference. “Did you compute it properly? What if there was an error in addition?” Ha-ha. Wishful thinking. Of course they had tallied the scores correctly.

On home soil, inside the Cebu Coliseum last Sunday, on venues that we’ve practiced on for years, we were beaten. Again. By the National Capital Region. (I hope that next year – after reducing the gap from 11 to 6 points, a five-point margin – we don’t lose by one point!)

Despite the pain, despite the nearness of victory for our nation’s middle region, despite the beautiful ending that should have transpired given Visayas’ twin earthquake-and-typhoon calamities – it wasn’t meant to be.

Despite the loss, Ricky, this time, smiled. I guess he’d gotten accustomed to accepting both failure and triumph with positivity. Plus, he had wowed the crowd.
Last Friday during the Opening Act of the Milo Games, Ricky and Co. welcomed the thousands who arrived from all part of the archipelago to a greeting that only Cebu can offer. Fireworks. Glittery costumes. Acrobatic dance moves. A heart-stopping torch lighting. That was the Opening.

During the Closing, it was just as grand. Inside the Cebu Coliseum, as warm as the arena was, the performances were even hotter. They were terrific.

Nobody – and I mean this with zero bias and this will not be contested by any other sports official – nobody can put up a show like the Cebuanos. We may have lost the games but we won the crowd.

It started with the song “Gold” by Spandau Ballet. One of my all-time favorite bands (from the 80s), dancers covered in gold, including masks in gold, did a rousing opening intro. They brought out two numbers, “5” and “0.” Why these digits? Formed together, they spell out “50.” This number is golden, right? We celebrate 50 with gold. Next year happens to be the 50th anniversary of Milo in the Philippines.

Go for gold. Nestle’s top executive, Andrew Neri, gave an inspiring speech, talking of how these games have touched little kids and inspired them to excel through sports.

The Most Outstanding Athletes – a couple of dozen of them – were called and honored on-stage. (On a personal note, my daughter Jana won, for the 2nd straight year in tennis, the Most Outstanding Athlete trophy after she and her Bright Academy tennis squad blanked NCR, Luzon and Mindanao.)

Apple Abarquez was next called to perform. The song “Go The Distance” (by Michael Bolton) was perfect. Read the lyrics. It was made even more perfect by Apple’s amazing rendition of the tune. Right behind Apple on-stage were the three giant LED screens that showed HD-quality photos of the past weekend: boys sprinting, girls spiking the volleyball.

Towards the finale, three groups of dancers (New Friends, Don Juan and Disco Jammers) strutted and did break-dances and hurled themselves on air as they pumped extra excitement to the crowd.

In the end, the song “Celebrate” by Kool & the Gang was celebrated by boys and girls, coaches and parents, Milo executives and Cebu organizers, Mayor Mike Rama and Milo’s top official Robbie De Vera.

We lost but, by hosting possibly the best-ever Milo Little Olympics in history, we were victorious.

After “7.2” and Yolanda, Milo inspires

I’m typing this while facing one of the most picturesque views that our eyes can survey in Cebu. I’m seated on the balcony of Alta Vista Golf and Country Club gazing at southern Cebu. From this porch, a slice of green earth glistens right below; it’s the elegant Alta Vista golf course. But I’m not here to swing golf putts. Instead, we’re here to observe smashes and volleys. It’s tennis and the 2013 Milo Little Olympics National Finals.

My daughter Jana and her Bright Academy team are representing Team Visayas. Like they did last year in Marikina, we hope they’ll score gold at home. These Milo games energize the youth. They’re contested nationwide. A total of 13 sports are being played with 1,600 athletes (from the 22,000 who competed regionally nationwide) here to compete.

Two nights ago, on a perfect Friday night that showcased clear skies, it was the Opening Ceremony.

Ricky Ballesteros, the indefatigable architect of the Sinulog, is the man spearheading Cebu’s hosting of Milo. Ricky promised a subdued, toned-down Opening. Nope. Instead, it was spectacular. Like it should be. With thousands who landed in Cebu to do sports battle for two days, it’s essential that they be welcomed with a rousing Opening. That’s what Milo and Ricky showed the audience.

On the football field of the Cebu City Sports Center, there sat a giant stage — just like the Sinulog. Three large-size LED screens formed the backdrop. We arrived at 5 p.m. A band of dancers performed upbeat songs. Moments later, two of the top VIPs that the crowd awaited descended: Mayor Mike Rama and Nestle CEO John Miller.

Let the festivities begin! Song numbers were rendered. Dance presentations were flaunted. The entire Abellana sports grounds were covered in one color. It’s the same color of the Boston Celtics: Green. It enveloped our sports complex.

Team Visayas, struck by twin mega-calamaties the past two months, wore the appropriate shirt with these designs: On the front were the words “Signal 4” (typhoon) and on the back was “7.2 Magnitude” (earthquake). It was a reminder both to these shocking events and to the resilience of sports that, despite the distress, the battle on the sports arena will live on.

Mayor Rama not only joined the activity, he literally joined — walking with the Visayan contingent as it made its way from the oval bend to the front stage. The sportsminded mayor, like he often does, greeted the visitors with his “Maayong Gabii” version spoken in multiple dialects. He then talked about the importance of sports, especially during these times of adversity.

Chosen to do the Oath of Sportsmanship was last year’s Most Outstanding Athlete in Tennis: my 15-year-old daughter Jana. After that, Dr. Vivian Ginete, one of the chieftains of DepEd in Region 7, inspired the audience with her speech.

Then, the most thrilling portion happened: after Mario Ceniza, Glen Ramos and Alex Ballesteros dribbled the football to “get the ball rolling,” it was the lighting of the torch — culminating when a footballer lit an “arrow” that zoomed fast and lighted the urn. It was dazzling; our version of the Barcelona Olympics.

Danielle May Ozaraga sang “Power of the Dream.” She emerged from the back of the stage and was slowly lifted by a mechanized small stage. While singing with her beautiful voice, images of the athletes were exhibited in the back. Breathtaking. Goose-bumps inducing. A production that only the likes of Junjet Primor and his gang can concoct. It makes you feel proud to be Cebuano.

But, just moments prior to The End, a silent minute was observed. Fittingly so, Ricky and the Milo organizers showed a montage of photos of the destruction of “7.2 and Yolanda.” Lights were dimmed. Only the three LED screens were illuminated. John Lennon’s song “Imagine” blared on the loudspeakers. Reminiscing on that moment now, I get goosebumps. It was painful yet inspiring.

Then, after a moment’s silence, the finale: Since next year will be Milo’s 50th year in the Phils., songs from the 1960s to the present were rendered.

Through sports, Milo uplifts.

Eight post-fight notes on Pacquiao-Rios

(Photo: Vincent Yu/AP)

Firstly, if you want the best seats in the arena, write for sports. We sat 11 rows from the stage. Had we purchased those tickets, they’d be over $2,000 each. What’s amazing about being inside Ground Zero (the Media/VIP Section) is that there’s free food served: Haagen-Dazs ice cream, Garrett popcorn, sandwiches, Heinekin beer — eat and drink all you can.

TWO, Bob Arum and The Venetian Macao know how to take care of the press. While here covering the event, you get access inside the Media Room. It’s the size of Waterfront’s ballroom with free wi-fi and (again) sandwiches and ice cream. Even more, at the nearby Media Dining Room, it’s another giant ballroom where, for dinner, lunch and breakfast, we partook of salmon, steak, siomai, carved sweet ham, mussels, giant mushrooms…

We queried Dong Secuya, the internet pioneer of Cebu (he built Cebu’s first website in 1995 and runs one of the world’s top boxing sites, Philboxing.com.) We asked Dong if the reception was similar to Las Vegas; he gave a definitive “No.” There, they serve “pica-pica” and drinks. In Macau, it’s eat and drink the best Asian food until you drop.

THREE, Zou Shiming is a giant here. Diminutive at only 112-lbs., he’s the most revered Chinese boxer, a winner of two Olympic gold medals. Inside The Venetian, there’s an entire hall that showcases everything-Zou: photos, paintings, stories. He’s China’s Pacquiao.

FOUR: Wakee Salud is still in Manny’s inner circle. We saw each other here multiple times. “The security is not as tight as in Las Vegas,” Wakee told me two hours before Manny fought. Wakee was headed towards Manny’s locker room and, sure enough, when they emerged from the dugout, Wakee walked behind Chavit Singson.

FIVE, lots from Cebu here: Cebu City mayors (current) Mike Rama and (former) Tommy Osmena. Dr. Tony San Juan. Willy T. Go. Dennis Que. Rep. Samsam Gullas. Naga mayor Val Chiong. Rep. Raul del Mar. Choy Toralba. Atan Guardo, Alan Delantar, Councilor Richie Osmena. Chester Cokaliong with his friends — and many, many more from Cebu. Among the press, there’s Atty. Jingo Quijano, CDN’s sports editor Rick Gabuya, The Freeman’s sports editor Manny Villaruel and my dad Bunny. I counted two boxing judges (Edward Ligas and Salven Lagumbay) and referee (Atty. Danrex Tapdasan) from Cebu.

SIX: To the younger ones who watched fight, you must have noticed Manny’s entrance song. It wasn’t his personal hit or one from a Pinoy artist but Katy Perry’s song “Roar.” Part of the lyrics go: “You held me down, but I got up; Already brushing off the dust; You hear my voice, you hear that sound; Like thunder gonna shake the ground; You held me down, but I got up; Get ready cause I’ve had enough; I see it all, I see it now… I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire; Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar…”

SEVEN: This was “Lutong Macau.” No, it doesn’t mean that this fight was fixed or rigged. It means that “gi luto ug gi-kaon si Rios.” In our talks here, here’s the consensus: 1) Rios was ideal for Manny at this point because he was easy. He’s slow, lacks power, doesn’t have top-level pedigree. 2) Manny needed this (“stepping stone”) win. Badly. 3) MP was cautious. It’s obvious the memory of that Marquez KO still lingers. Last Sunday while he was clearly leading, why take unnecessary risks? 4) There will be more MP fights in Macau. Why? Because of the overflowing Pinoy crowd. On one elevator ride, a companion of Manny from GenSan confided that Manny flew in 500 people from Gensan!

EIGHT: You and I saw what we’ve long known: Manny no longer wears the rosary and he doesn’t make the sign of the cross. I’m a devout Catholic and I don’t want to meddle into a debate on this sensitive topic other than to say that, no doubt and confirmed by everybody, he’s a reformed and honest-to-goodness Christian. As I listened for myself in the exclusive press conference, he repeatedly thanked God above all. “This is not about me,” he said. “I’m just a boxer. This is my job. All glory to God.” Amen.

No Boom! as Bam Bam turns punching bag

(AFP)

MACAU — Seated on Row 11 or about 50 feet away, our eyes witnessed what the entire world witnessed: Manny Pacquiao’s mission was not to win by knockout but simply to win. After two losses with the last one coming via a nightmarish KO, he didn’t have to kill Brandon Rios; he simply had to kill him softly.

“I backed-off a little bit,” Manny admitted, referring to that 12th round when he could have attacked for a Ricky Hatton-like demolition job. But, no; he was cautious. “I don’t want to be careless. I had to be careful.” These were his exact words when we listened to him in person during the post-fight interview at The Venetian Ballroom. “Boxing,” he added, “is not about killing each other.”

God-fearing. Reformed. Away from his old and evil ways. Compassionate and now a truthful family man and renewed Christian, Manny is the same devastating Mike Tyson-type aggressor but no longer the heartless and savage animal who bloodied Cotto and brutalized Margarito.

COTAI ARENA. Yesterday, we arrived inside the Cotai Arena at 8 a.m. to listen to the ring announcer mention the name “Harmonito de la Torre.” Hailing from Gen. Santos City, we spent time with our fellow Pinoy last Sunday. During our buffet lunch together (less than 24 hours prior to his fight), Harmonito was so confident that he gobbled-up a plateful of food, including chocolate cate. No worries; yesterday, he feasted on opponent Jason Butar-Butar in impressive fashion.

From 8 a.m. until nearly 2 p.m., we took our positions inside the Cotai Arena. There were a total of nine undercard bouts; apart from De La Torre, the super welterweight victory also went to another Pinoy, Dan Nazareno.

One more impressive fighter was Rex Tso. He’s the top boxer of Hong Kong and he’s managed/trained by Aljoe Jaro (who hails from, as his family name explains, Jaro in Iloilo). Aljoe’s assistant is also Bisaya, the former boxer Dong Mahinay.

What’s the experience like being part of the biggest boxing event of Asia? It’s loud. It’s Las Vegas implanted in Macau. It’s theatrical. It’s entertainment.

Prior to Manny and Bam-Bam climbing the ring, lots of action (possibly not broadcasted on TV) was shown, including the Cotai dancers, about a dozen of them clad in sexy red and blue two-piece outfits (and wearing boxing gloves), dancing The Harlem Shake.

Erap danced, too. Ha-ha. Not, not on stage. But, from where we sat, I saw him enter the VIP entrance where he was escorted to the front pew. David Beckham, as you saw on TV, watched the bout. While Paris Hilton and Apl.de.Ap collected plenty of applause when Michael Buffer mentioned their names, it was Beckham who drew an almost Pacquiao-like praise. This is how much China loves football. (Here in The Venetian, there’s a giant store of Beckham’s former team, Manchester United.)

Bunny Pages and Jingo Quijano

CROWD. The spectators inside the coliseum — plenty of Filipinos and many hailing from Hong Kong and mainland China — were 90+ percent pro-Manny. Each time the giant LED screens flashed Rios’ face, the crowd booed. When Manny was shown — often flashing his charismatic smile — we shouted the opposite: MAN-NY! MAN-NY! MANY-NY!

This chant was repeated in each round. When the Filipino congressman would pummel the American boxer, we’d echo his first name. I’ve watched a few grand sporting moments — the Beijing Olympics and US Open tennis, to name two — but nothing compares to the electrifying atmosphere that we experienced yesterday noon. It’s because Manny, like us, is Pinoy. It’s because we’re in this continent/venue surrounded by fellow Asians. It’s because he could be a “tsamba” (Marquez-like) punch away from retiring. It’s hard to print on paper but the energy and hearts of the Filipino majority (among the 13,200 in attendance) seemed to empower Manny and overpower Brandon.

Overpowered? Absolutely. Rios was a mismatch. The only time he scored punches was when they clinched and he repeatedly (and in an almost-cheating way) punched away. Other than that, he wasn’t Bam Bam — he was a (Punching) Bag Bag.