CHICAGO ? I don?t know taekwondo from judo, or aikido from karatedo. The last time I had a fistfight, back in my heavy drinking college days at USJ-R, a dispatcher for Naga-bound jeepneys gave me free dental extraction. The prick, mad that I refused to part with my allowance, hit me so hard I had to peel my face from Gaisano Metro?s back wall.
With the Sayson pride on the line, I gallantly took on the bully, but when he pulled a balisong/Batangas knife, it?s blade glinting against the shimmering light of Balintawak St.?s lamp post, I ran so fast Lydia de Vega would?ve needed a motorcycle to catch me.
I recall this experience because a certain Warren Belarmino ([email protected]), unhappy that I doubted Manny Pacquiao, wrote a letter threatening me with bodily harm: ?If I ever see you, I will really beat you the way Manny beat Barrera.? Belarmino?s letter was so irreverent he used up his lifetime quota for cuss words.
