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Philippines, 18 May 2024 |
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PACMAN IN AMERICA -- PART TWO How Pacquiao Has Changed the Lives of Filipinos in America By Bob Chan PhilBoxing.com Tue, 12 Jun 2007  For my wife Kathy, my partner in crime, who does not know thing-one about boxing but never fails to come with me to Vegas to watch Pacquiao fights. A big THANK YOU. It started as an ordinary day in 1998, I arrived at work my usual 45 minutes early. To this day, I give this much time allowance so I can surf the net for news from the Philippines. I chanced upon the column of Conrado de Quiros in the Philippine Inquirer. That day, he was talking about a certain Manny Pacquiao who’s victory in Thailand just gave the Philippines another world champion in boxing. Of course, towards the end of the article he would tie up this event with some socio-political statement he was trying to make. I usually like Conrado de Quiros and his insights on Philippine society and politics, but that particular day, his political message escaped me. My mind was trapped on the thought of our country having a new world champion. I quickly put my mouse to work to switch me to the sports section. There it was, Emmanuel D. Pacquiao, had captured the IBF flyweight championship of the world at the same time that the SEA games were going on in Thailand. I quickly called my brother on my cell phone. “Manny . . . sinong Pacquiao? Di ko alam,” was the answer I got. I couldn’t believe it. My elder brother, who used to be as big a boxing fan as I, didn’t even know we had a world champion. I even remembered watching all the Elorde fights that were held in Manila with him. How could this be? It seems his sporting interests had been all consumed by golf. He was, at that time, the club champion at the Manila Golf Club for twelve out of the last fifteen years. And he was the runner-up twice. Screw that. So, I needed to know more. I quickly turned to Yahoo to find out more. There was almost nothing about Manny Pacquiao. I had to wait several weeks before news came out about Manny defending his title against Mira of Mexico. I gobbled anything and everything about this coming fight that I could pick up from the internet. The day of that fight, I timed my call to a friend in the Philippines. It was exactly the time the bout would end had it lasted the full twelve rounds. “Anong laban? Sinong Pacquiao.” Again! What the hell is happening here. How could interests have changed like that in just fifteen years. This was crazy. I had to wait for the next day to read about Manny’s successful defense in the Inquirer. I remember feeling so bad when I read that Manny Pacquiao lost his crown at the scales and was knocked out in the third round of his second defense. I remember saying to myself, “that was short but sweet” and resigned myself to never hearing about that fighter again. It was in the summer of 2001 during a pay-per-view fight of Oscar de la Hoya, that I purchased, when I saw Manny Pacquiao for the first time. He was fighting in one of the bouts in the undercard leading to the main event. They talked about how the Filipino challenger had accepted the fight on three weeks notice when the fighter scheduled to go up against Ledwaba had pulled out due to an injury. I remember saying to myself, “okay they’re feeding the lion with Filipino food.” Nevertheless, I was going to cheer for the Filipino fighter. I was going to cheer for Manny Pacquiao. When Ledwaba hit the canvas for the first time, my wife ran out of our bedroom into the living room with fear on her expression because she didn’t know what had happened to me. I guess my howling and jumping sounded, from the bedroom, like a home invasion was happening in the room outside. When I pointed to Pacquiao saying, “Kathy Pinoy yan,” she smiled. She understood. I saw the national pride slowly light up her face. She sat down on the couch and continued to watch the rest of the fight with me. Right after that fight the phone rang. It was my brother-in-law in Brooklyn, New York, he asked me if I was watching the fight. When I said that I was watching, we both started talking simultaneously all excited. I don’t even remember anything about that de la Hoya fight. I don’t even remember who he fought against that night. This started a ritual of post-fight phone calls between my brother-in-law and I. To this day right after a Pacquiao fight, I would call him from Vegas and we discuss the fight. This brother-in-law would later, himself, become a Paclander. We all know him as Lolpop. I witnessed through the magic of HBO how Pacquiao was improving as a fighter. After that technical draw with the late Agapito Sanchez came his bouts with Julio Elicer and Emmanuel Lucero. My confidence in Manny just kept growing. Around August of 2003, talk was going around of a match-up between Manny Pacquiao and the great Marco Antonio Barrera. Lolpop and myself were again on the phone. We made a date to see the fight in his house in Brooklyn. On the evening of November 14, my wife and I left for New York right after work. She had to drive, my mind was all about Manny Pacquiao. Manny, many thought, didn’t have a ghost of a chance against this living Mexican legend. Somehow, I knew he was going to win. I was confident enough to place a substantial bet on him with a local bookie before leaving for New York. My bet would win me $3.60 for every dollar I put on Manny. Somehow, I felt like I was, as Ian Anderson put it, “taking candy from a laughing baby’s mouth.” We all know what happened the night. No words need be said. Every Pacquiao fan knows where he was and what he was doing when that fight came on. To a Pacquiao fan, It’s an event that’s up there together with the assissination of John F. Kennedy; the Columbine shooting; and 9/11. It was also sometime after this fight that my net surfing led me to Pacland. I lurked for a while then finally registered and posted. I’ve been a Paclander and a bona-fide nuthugger ever since. Then came the set-back with that controversial draw with Juan Manuel Marquez. After that fight I told my wife that I wish I could actually be in Vegas when Pacquiao fights. To my astonishment, she answered, “you should.” I was floored. I couldn’t believe my ears. She said, “Bobby, I know it’s important to you. For the past couple of years there isn’t a day you don’t mention that name. You should go and watch him fight.” It was Friday, March 18, 2005. I took the later half of that day off from work. I waited for my wife, and off we went to the airport to catch a flight for Las Vegas. We had reservations for a room for two nights at the MGM Grand (the fight was at the MGM Grand Arena), and we were to pick up our fight tickets at the front desk when we check in. To say that I was excited would be the understatement of the millenium. I almost didn’t get to watch that fight. I had given the finger, two inches from the nose, of an uncouth Morales fan who was booing our national anthem while it was being sung. A fight almost broke out at our box. Good thing the Security Person at our box just decided to tell us both to chill. I walked out of the arena that night feeling very depressed. My wife was by my side consoling me. Then she said something that just made me look at her. She said, “Manny will beat him next time. You’ll be there to see it.” At that moment, after twenty-two years of marriage, I knew she was for keeps. The Pacquiao odessey continues. We all know what happened next and next and next. But what impresses me is when I wear any of my Pacquiao t-shirts from my collection, someone, a stranger would approach me and say, “he’s an exciting fighter. Have you ever been to any of his fights?” Or, “He’s probably got the biggest heart in boxing right now.” And the best one, “I love seeing that guy fight, he’s all game.” 
Paclanders pose for posterity during its EB in Las Vegas on Nov. 18, 2006. 
Filipino boxing fans in America gather around Pacquiao for autograph signing and photo opportunity. Top photo: Bob Chan (L), the author, poses with a Pacquiao banner. With him is RingTalk's Jason Aniel (C) and another Paclander. All photos by Dong Secuya. Those and statements like that from strangers fill me up with national pride. It’s a tinggling sensation that starts from the bottom of my spine, straight to my heart, then rushes to my brain. And I tell them, “he’s my inspiration.” He reminds of stories about my father who used his education and later his profession to get his entire family out of poverty. Manny used his fists. They used different strokes, but the same heart and determination. Thanks you LORD, for giving us Manny Pacquiao. Thank you Kathy for being such a sport. Thank you Manny for being who you are. Click here to view a list of other articles written by Bob Chan.  |
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