LAS Vegas – I left LA shortly after 7 a.m. yesterday, stopped by Ontario to pick up AJ and Ermee from their visit with relatives, and then sped off towards Las Vegas to begin my official coverage of Pacquiao-Morales III.
I made sure to make only the necessary stops, and when the coast was clear of highway patrol cops, I pushed pedal to metal. I did make the 300-plus miles trip inside four hours, but when I finally got there, my bladder was crying for relief.
The final press conference for the Grand Finale had already started when I arrived at the Cox Pavilion. And once inside, I quickly drowned in a sea of familiar faces.
Salven Lagumbay of CDN and the Inquirer was there, hard at work as usual.
Dong Secuya, the genius behind philboxing.com and mannypacquiao.ph also came to chronicle Pacquiao?s exploits through the sheer color of photography.
I?ve always been a fan of Dong?s work and I felt truly privileged to have finally met him.
Speaking of photography, my wife Ermee asked to pose for posterity with Manny yesterday at the Cox Pavillion. To no one?s surprise, PacMan obliged.
That was many, many hours ago, and I still can?t peel the smile on Ermie?s face.
By 3 p.m., shortly after the presscon had dispersed, I drove Salven and Dong to the Marriott Suites, where they were going to hunker down to work and e-mail as many materials to Cebu as their deadline would permit. I opted to go back to my hotel and take 40 winks.
An hour and a half later at 4:30 p.m., I went live on air at dyAB for my NBA segment with Leo Lastimosa. I yapped like a guy on the verge of a nervous breakdown, shamelessly plugging my live blow-by-blow account of the Grand Finale this Sunday at dyAB.
Paquiao adviser Wakee Salud joined the dyAB chatfest and he was giddy of the prospect of a sold-out crowd at the Cebu Coliseum, where Wakee is hosting a live broadcast of the fight for a bargain basement price of P100.
I went to the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino at 8:00 p.m. I wish I didn?t. I saw Bobby Pacquiao lose by disqualification against Hector Velasquez.
Manny?s brother was sloppy, slow and easily fatigued.
Clearly, the boxer that Michael Buffer introduced as Bobby Pacquiao was an impostor.
I drove Salven and Dong to their hotel at past 10 p.m. It was a quiet ride. We felt sorry for Bobby, and bitter over the fact that he underwhelmed in a fight where he was supposed to be overwhelmingly better than the opposition. By 10 p.m., I was in bed. Snoring like a drunk pirate, the wife said.
I couldn?t remember dreaming some things sweet. All I could recall is waking up at 3:00 a.m. to write this piece, a Grapevine and a column.
