WHO IS the greatest of them all?
I pose that question because the same question was posed to me only a while back.
The question came no less from Quinito Henson, the country’s undisputed expert in boxing.
“Do you think Manny Pacquiao is the greatest of them all?” asked Quinito. “If yes is your reply, why?”
Quinito said he was doing a magazine solely devoted to Pacquiao.
“It’s a collector’s item,” he said.
Oh, well, you bet.
Anything that has to do with Pacquiao nowadays, it’s a sure hit.
Commercials here and there are raking in money for the Pacman. The movies he has made thus far have likewise fattened his bank accounts.
“If it’s Pacquiao we are airing on pay-per-view TV, we always score big at the tills,” said Dennis Uy, inventor of the gadget that brings to your living rooms Pacquiao’s blockbuster fights live. “But when we did the same thing to other boxers, we lost money.”
In short, Pacquiao has now the Midas touch. Everything that he touches turns into gold.
And I can only be too happy for Pacquiao. He deserves the windfall. As I said, it’s not easy being a boxer. In this sport, you get hit first, you get hurt first, your nose gets broken or your eyebrows get cut or your lips get busted, before you get paid. You could be in stitches and bandages after a fight that you sometimes end up like a zombie. Only your wife and mother could hug and kiss you but not your child, who’d be too scared to death seeing a walking mummy! In golf, you get to enjoy the sun and the flowers and next collect your purse — unscathed.
Now, to go back to the question: Who is the greatest of them all, Pancho Villa, Flash Elorde or Manny Pacquiao?
I did not see Villa (real name, Francisco Guilledo) as he came before we were all born — in the Roaring Twenties. But I have heard so much about him, read so much about him. According to those in the know, Villa was good, courageous and a bit flashy. With a ring name borrowed from the great Mexican revolutionary hero, Pancho Villa, our kid, originally from Iloilo, captured the imagination of American boxing fans, if not the world’s adulation. He fought 105 times, winning 88 of them, losing nine and drawing five; he had three no-decision verdicts (thanks for the stats, Eric).
Every time Pancho Villa came home from a victory in America, he’d ride in a flashy, top-down automobile for a motorcade in Manila in his honor. He loved the limelight as much as he loved women; sometimes, he’d have three girl friends at the same time. When he died from an infected tooth aggravated by a fight in California that he shouldn’t have fought in the first place as per doctor’s orders, he drew a record throng during the funeral cortege to the Manila North Cemetery. That record was eclipsed only when the remains of the late President Ramon Magsaysay were being taken also to the Manila North Cemetery.
Pancho Villa’s legend will always crop up every time a new kid on the block comes along — such as Manny Pacquiao.
But comes now Flash Elorde, the former bootblack from Bogo, Cebu, who was world junior lightweight champion from 1960 to 1967. Like Villa, Elorde is a certified boxing legend.
A southpaw like Pacquiao, Elorde electrified the world with his punching ability, more so that his right hand had, amazingly, scored more knockouts than his left hand. He fought 115 times, winning 88 of them including 34 knockouts, losing 25 and drawing two. He had overstayed in the beak-busting business, though, and his undoing triggered successive defeats.
Soon, he found himself getting stripped of his boxing license by the Games and Amusements Board. A sorry ending, indeed, for the icon whose death due to lung cancer at age 49 triggered a national mourning.
So, who’s the greatest?
I say it’s Pacquiao. His record of 41 wins, three losses and two draws — with 33 knockouts — is simply too awesome to be ignored. Pacquiao’s punching power has no equal. His ability to survive knockout blows (his 2 KO losses were flukes) is without equal. His fighting style — with both fists capable of scoring knockouts, his shuffle and body movements correct — is now virtually complete.
Of course, that estimation will change once Pacquiao transforms from a disciplined fighter to a spoiled brat and starts piling up the losses.
In short, it’s up to Pacquiao if he wants to uphold my verdict of him all his boxing life.
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