LOS ANGELES, California, April 23, 2010 – Today I must spice-up my meditation as I am reminded from
readings my favorite author, William Shakespeare, who was born on April 23, 1564 and died on April 23, 1616 in
Stratford, London. His life was one of a “bombshell” to the open-air theaters of miracle and morality plays. And he had a special gift of creating characters about whom no last, definite, and final word can be expressed. As for the pulse of our current time, we have one who has probably brought revolution as well, to the sport of boxing,to the mighty minds of the sportswriters and to the quasi-fans of the ring of madness and even to the hearts of those who are of recalcitrant-bent. And he is one who has notably become a poetic metaphor and intervention of fame and success and humility and willingness to inspire and to serve his countrymen, at least to this date.
Yes,his entry to the U.S. territory was one of a silent rage: Manny Pacquiao dropped his own bombshell before 911. Just when another September 11 was about to unfold last year, I came to internalizing the event. And it was just about 12 o’clock midnight. But, no midnight cry was heard from any avenues, at least from where I wrote this article. Oh, yes, just about a few minutes ago I turned on my television set for the first time in the last six months. And there upon on Channel 59 flashed the scenes of the day of infamy of the United States of America that rather changed the landscape of the purported advancement and prestige of the security agencies of this greatest land of the earth.
But forget all about the face of evil – referring to such eventful moments – that people saw on such cold-blooded slaughter of thousands, in broad daylight, right on our TV sets. Such evil had already transcended all cultures, all traditions, all epochs, and finally, for many, the objective nature of morality, when that day of infamy hit home as never before.
To almost all of us, the interplay of such unkind force into this land of freedom and opportunity was
unanticipated nor was it bound for its predictability. It was inexcusable. But, to the privileged intelligences of
prophetic revelation, as evidenced from the writings of Ellen G. White, an American Prophetess, and from the unknown few as well, it was made known in their own “mental flashes of divine inspiration”, so to speak, or vision and disposal of foresights, as alleged by the formidable scholars of prophecies, namely: Mark Finley, Samuelle Bacchioci and John Carter.
I thought of all the tragedies that came out of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in New York and Washington, D.C., there was one distinctive development, specifically in the sport of boxing. For many boxing aficionados and fans, it sounded the death knell in the ring of madness might continue to be felt all throughout its market segment: The traumatic pain from 9/11 had gone deep into the core of emptiness.
But, not necessarily so. A vacuum-filling for pleasure must exist.
And something came up but in an inversely similar, yet odd, entertaining and even intriguing phenomenon. One such intriguing event indeed took place, however less dramatic and did not consume life at all.
In a less cosmic proportion, Manny Pacquiao dropped his own whirlwind “bombshell”, about two months before the commanding blasts of 9/11 stroke the hearts of men and women and children.
Paradoxically, as for him, his own “bombshell” became the “gospel” to the disillusioned, discouraged and disenchanted hearts of the Philippines. In fact, Pacquiao’s victories became good news to the downtrodden and to the oppressed.
Only after two weeks of notice, the sweeping charisma and boxing skills of Manny Pacquiao, bearing 121 lbs at 5’5″ probably at such time, hit home in this foreign land called “America”, yes, in the land of milk and honey terrorizing the super-bantamweight division and thereafter all the way up to the welterweight. It was essentially obvious that the trail he created manifested the rising culture of Pacmania and the revival of the boxing world, specifically in the lower division, not to undercut his victories over David Diaz, Marco Antonio Barrera, Eric Morales, Juan Manuel Marquez, Oscar de la Hoya, Ricky Hatton and etc..
Pacquiao enthralled the boxing enthusiasts and shocked both the skeptics and the agnostics.
Ironically, the first victim was not an American, not even from Latin America. It was Lehlohonolo Ledwaba of South Africa, of which Manny Pacquiao was brought in as replacement of Enrique Sanchez, to fight against the IBF Super-bantamweight titlist at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, Nevada.
From the opening round and onward, Pacquiao fought his way up on a full scale attack in an electrifying, non-
stop fashion, dropping Ledwaba in round 2 from a short left to the right upper quadrant of the body, railroading his opponent – in fact – from round 1 through 6 with feisty moments and dropping him again by a straight left to the chin with 2:27 left in round 6.
But, still, Ledwaba, “the master boxer”, chose to continue the fight which brought him on again to take a finishing right hook from Pacquiao which slid on his chin only to explode to his right chest, dropping him again to the canvas with 2:05 left in round 6, and thus the stoppage by TKO.
It was an event before the 9/11 that signaled the tectonic shift in boxing, a schizophrenic haste that brought increasing attractions in the little men’s division as Pacquiao seized the limelight as the new IBF Super Bantamweight Champion.
And the same limelight that Pacquiao beheld himself in glory landed on the pages of the newsprints and more so spelled out through the lips of self-glorified prophets of boxing, tuning up with praise-building phrases “swarming like bees around a cider mill” – and thus birth of the world of Pacmania. Yes, Pacquiao is not one of William Shakespeare. But, his life is one of eloquence to many, especially to the inspiration of the Maharlikan nation.
