PHOENIX, Arizona–Here’s one indication of how much Filipino immigrants in the United States have remained Filipinos by heart: Even those who watched at home all stood up for the Philippine national anthem at the start of the Pacquiao-Morales bout.
And here?s one sign of how they remained Filipinos by deed: They trooped to Las Vegas for the fight, and those who could not make it there made it a point to skip work or rest to huddle in front of TV sets with friends and relatives.
Of course, there was the flair of the American in the singing as well, for they did not just stand idly, they cheered and shouted while they sang the anthem, much like Americans do.
On Saturday night, one such house in Phoenix, Arizona erupted in cheers when a flurry of punches floored Erik Morales in the third round.
For the two dozen Filipinos watching the bout on a 65-inch TV, Manny Pacquiao never looked classier.
?He was more prepared, more focused, faster than the last fight. This victory was an affirmation of his superiority over Morales,? said Allan Gayongala, a minister of a local church here.
?When I saw how thin Morales was, well, I thought Pacquiao had the fight in the bag,? chimed in Chito Vilar, the owner of the Phoenix house.
Vilar, a long-time resident, had paid $49 (about P2,500) for HBO?s pay-per view program. He knew he was paying a lot for something that lasted for just two hours. But he also knew that the fight was one of those special things you do not scrimp on. In fact, Vilar has decided to shell out cash as early as two weeks ago.
?Of course (I wanted to watch it in real-time). Pacquiao is Filipino,? he said. ?This is one way of supporting him.?
Vilar knew of many other Filipinos from Phoenix who had driven four hours to watch the bout live in Las Vegas.
Indeed, the much-touted match?the third between the two fighters?had cropped up during conversations almost every day now during the last week.
Alex Panganiban, a registered nurse, said he would have asked for a day off if he had work on Saturday (Sunday in Manila). Fortunately, he was free.
?I?ll never miss this,? he said.
In the United States a Pacquiao fight is always expected to draw Filipinos to common houses, where they can watch in comfort and exchange commentaries. His ring appearances bring them together in a way that weddings and birthday parties do, just like back home. (The kitchen smelled of kalderetang kambing and pansit; vodka and beer were being served on the side.)
Midway through Brian Viloria?s fight, more and more people arrived, many of them with kids. A father even brought his two children, one of them just a few months old.
Before long, the people now counted at least two dozen.
And as the main bout began, nothing could have drowned out the jeers and cheers emanating from the Vilar residence. Pacquiao?s every punch was wildly cheered; his every advance was encouraged. And worried gasps followed every punch that the enemy had landed.
Pacquiao clearly dominated the fight, sending Morales to the canvass in the second round and finishing him off in the third.
The Filipinos here all came to see a classy fight, and got one.
“He was very impressive. But then again, I never doubted he would win,” said Willy Sarmiento, a building contractor.
Since no one was rooting for the enemy, the crowd had found another way to bet. For $5 each, people drew numbers from one to 12, which corresponded to the number of the bout?s rounds. The winner was simply the person with the number of the round that the bout was stopped.
Just one proof that they were not interested in other fighters: The channel was switched to the collegiate football or to the NBA (where the home team Phoenix Suns was playing against Utah Jazz) when no Filipino boxer was in the ring.
Without anyone saying it, Filipinos here knew they connected with their countrymen by watching the fight. In a way, they also celebrated their roots. Edwin Bulos, who is from Metro Manila, fondly remembered how they all stood up and sang the Philippine national anthem the last time Pacquiao faced Morales.
?We were all here, just like this. This time, I knew the fight would not last six rounds,? Bulos said.
For a few hours, people here were united not just by race, although they are united primarily through that, but also through a common knowledge that they were rooting for a classy fighter, a supreme athlete, indeed, someone who can be called the best that Filipinos have to offer to the world.
