A PALL has descended on sunny Sunday afternoon in the Philippines as heralded pambansang kamao or national fist Manny Pacquiao bowed to Australian opponent Jeff Horn at the ring in Brisbane.
This nation of 100 million, a significant number of which work overseas, has feted the popular global boxing icon as a badge of national pride and identity wherever they are. They too had their hearts and pride deflated and you can almost hear a perceptible swoosh of disappointment all the way from Oregon to Queensland as the unanimous decision was declared.
It was an epic fight at the get-go. The challenger was young and relatively inexperienced and his countenance betrayed this as he climbed onto the ring.
What Pacquiao’s fans interpreted as the look of fear and tentativeness turned out to be the proverbial boxing hunger and determination that gave him just the right amount of edge to pull an upset.
On the other hand, the champion was all relaxed and confident when it was his turn to strut into the arena, privileges that come with his long-standing stature as one of the most admired and exciting fighters in boxing history.
What the twelve rounds of fighting later on revealed was a painful but difficult- to-deny lesson about the incessant and victorious work of time.
The young upstart had nothing to lose but everything to gain, even as he was pummeled to a pulp in the eighth round. He took the surgical and precise jabs of Pacquiao with almost nothing to keep him from being knocked out save for his steeled determination to remain standing before his home crowd of 50,000. And even if he had used up his reserve stock of strength with his desperate punches, he still threw them anyway in a display of youthful resilience and resolve.
Meanwhile, the champion danced and punched around the challenger in a deft exhibition of his skills that makes him the highest paid athlete in recent times. He fought like the champ that he was, with a few flashes of his spirited combinations. But unfortunately the mastery of skills alone is not enough to thwart something more powerful that the challenger seemed to have.
Jeff Horn, the younger challenger, was simply more hungry for victory than Pacquiao, the aging champ.
That is why the Filipino icon’s defeat resonated on many middle-aged men, who were glued to their screens that morning. They may say all they want about how the game is a business and that the defeat was rigged to pave the way for an even more profitable rematch. Some may even consider it treasonous to think so highly of a white bullying challenger against the gallant efforts of the diminutive national pride.
But deep in their hearts, these men, who are in the midst of their midlife stage, have seen the same struggle play out in their individual lives. We all get old and lose our hunger and drive to make way for those who are younger and deserving of their own time for glory.
What makes Pacquiao’s defeat hurtful even for those who are not exactly his most avid fans is that in this macho world such as ours, such a platform of victory are built on the defeat of once heralded and feted champs.
Like Pacquiao, we may have been champions in our own respective personal and public arenas once upon a time, but the work of time will always see to it that the proverbial changing of the guard, the rise of the challenger, cannot be stopped. I think this was the subconscious motivation why after a bland family lunch, no doubt made so by Pacquiao’s defeat even though the food was cooked fine, my 46-year-old brother blasted on his newly-repaired sound system a song with the following lines, “even the best fall down sometimes.”
Filipinos both here and abroad will spend a good amount of time debating whether the scoring was correct like they always do when Pacquiao loses. There might be some truth and logic to those driven by feelings of loyalty and passion in defense of the erstwhile national pride and all the great things he did to buoy up our collective spirit many times before.
But for most of the forty-something set and above, despite their best arguments in defense of Pacquiao upfront, know a deeper truth that is hard to deny. Victory is not forever and even the best fall down.
