Not since Gabriel (Flash) Elorde, the Bago bootblack from Cebu turned world junior lightweight champion, electrified the nation with his pugilistic virtuosity just a few decades go has another Filipino fist-tosser filled the vacuum with almost equal aplomb. The Flash had rapier speed, a ticking bomb in his right hand and a dancer?s nimble legs. Manny possesses the same blur of speed, fairly bobs and fairly weaves and crosses over his left like a missile. Both are southpaws. Both hail from the South which grows the best and deadliest of Filipino fist-tossers. Both, so far as I know, were and remain the best dollar-earners in the Filipino fight industry.
Both, pound for pound with the possible inclusion of the inimitable flyweight Pancho Villa, were the best in their weights. Both were executioners who could box as well as they could fight and annihilate.
Da Flash was modest, almost shy to a fault. Pacquiao is a an incorrigible show-off, who loves good time, drinks, broads and fast company. Another difference is that Elorde had to suffer and fight much more to be a legend. Pacquiao in a few fights, especially his spectacular TKO victory in the 11th over the once invincible Marco Sergio Barrera, soared to international fame almost overnight.
And so we turn on our heels to see what gives in what is now billed Yanig sa Taguig scheduled December 11 at the Fort Bonifacio Global City.
The opponent this time has the unlikely monicker of Fahsan 3-K Battery. A Thai pugilist, Fahsan was almost completely unknown until he signed on for a fight with Pacquiao. You know how it is with overloaded pugilistic propaganda. Now the Thai has grown to the proportions of a killer of Filipino boxers, 20 of them in his career, and Manny Pacquiao, to hear the shills scream their wares, could be the 21st. To hear tell, the Thai has a secret strategy that could upend Pacquiao and send him to dreamland.
Unless Fahsan brings a bazooka with him into the ring this Saturday and fires it point-blank at Pacquiao, I don?t think he stands much of a chance. The Thai more likely is a journeyman who has fought and beaten a lot of palookas through clever match-making. And the simple gesture of signing a contract to fight our Manny Pacquiao has landed him the kind of publicity he never had in his life. Yes, his 15 minutes of immortality.
Now that Freddie Roach is back to handle Pacquiao?s training, I?ll give the Thai a maximum of seven rounds to stay standing in the ring. More likely, Manny, to make up for lost time and lay a big hand on the big money that awaits him in rematches with world featherweight champion Marco Antonio Barrera and featherweight phenom Juan Manuel Marquez will finish Fahsan quick. And as our boy lays that hand, and signs those juicy contracts, he?ll earn more money than any Filipino boxer ever did.
He is a gold mine, Pacquiao is. Unless he loses his touch, Pacquiao?s bomb bay of fists will bring him a huge fortune and the Philippines international fistic glory. That is if Freddie Roach continues to be his trainer.
Without Roach, Pacquiao?s worst enemy is himself. He plays hookey, is a malingerer. Informants tell me he smokes like a chimney, guzzles beer, loves night life, goes prodigally after the broads, and will obey nobody else but Freddie Roach. It is only when Roach is around that Manny Pacquiao bolts into life, hits the road early morning, hits the light bag, hits the heavy bag, hits every contraption within reach of his fists with the fury of a man possessed.
He has, of course, a shortcoming and I suppose Freddie Roach knows this.
Manny Pacquiao is an inveterate head hunter. From the word go, his arms and fists blaze upward and horizontally ? la Mike Tyson. His aim is an early knockout, and more often than not, they land on his foe?s jaw, chin, cheeks, nose, eyes, with a vicious rat-a-tat. The left seeks the jaw particularly and when it lands, the effect is astounding. His foes, as did Barrera, fall down in a heap, not sideways, not headlong, not diagonally, but straight down.
It?s as if they were hit by a pile-driver descending from the roof. Fists come in a barrage. For that is Pacquiao?s style, a hurricane in motion, hitting, pounding, blasting until his foe comes down. The end comes faster when the enemy is like Manny, an infighter also seeking the short route to win. Manny?s big advantage is that he is tireless. His hand speed is one of the fastest I have seen, and here the similarity with Elorde is again evident.
In that classic, bruising, dirty, vicious fight pitting then world featherweight champion Sandy Saddler with Elorde, the latter looked like he was ready to go, his wealed and welted face covered with blood, his knees wobbly. And yet, all of a sudden, Elorde?s fists roared not once, not twice, but like a naval broadside, staggering Saddler who thought the Flash was about to go down.
Elorde won that one, but it was close.
Pacquiao has just one shortcoming, and I suppose Freddie Roach knows this. Manny is not a body-puncher or a deep-sea diver. Manny wants to finish a fight fast, so he bombs to the head. He needs to improve his attacking style, dig down to the ribs, to the belly, to weaken his opponent, before bringing his fists up for the finisher.
Whatever. The pay-load is in Manny Pacquiao?s lethal fists. Whether they hit up or down doesn?t really matter much.. What matters is that the guy across gets hit and goes down like a fallen bull on all four legs, never to rise anymore. Remember Hemingway?s Death in the Afternoon?
