Category Archives: sports

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Manny Pacquiao needs an exit strategy, so here’s one: The Manny come home, farewell fight and karaoke fest in the RP

His face was “bruised and plump.” He needed help to get on his feet. His fingers were swollen so badly he couldn’t sign autographs.

That was a Philippine newspaper reporter’s description of Manny Pacquiao, the day after he won.

You should have seen the loser.

Antonio Margarito was in the hospital, his face swollen with welts the size of Texas, his right eye shut and barely in place in his broken eye-socket bone.

This is why Manny Pacquiao needs to stop now.

On Saturday, the PPP (pound-per-pound) King of Boxing, won his 8th title in 8 weight divisions. What more is there to do?

He can wait for the winner of this weekend’s Martinez/Williams fight and go after the middleweight crown. Hey, 9 titles in 9 weight classes!  But then why not 10, or 12?

That’s the problem. Manny is so good, it’s not a fair fight unless he handicaps himself so severely. Like a thoroughbred forced to carry more weight, Manny has to do something that’s not as obvious as tying his left hand behind his back.  It’s necessary because he is so good he would destroy others his size or smaller. The only challenge is to keep fighting what I call “up-hill.” Fight bigger,stronger, but not necessarily better boxers.

Margarito was 17 pounds heavier and 5-6 inches taller than Pacquiao.  That’s not Mount Everest, but even Pacquiao admitted after the fight that Margarito had enough mass to absorb all of the Pacman’s punches.

Fighting bigger guys means knockouts will be fewer, fights will be longer, and the war of attrition will ultimately prevail.

Pacquiao’s speed enabled him to punch Margarito 411 times. The battering should have been obvious to the referee and to Margarito’s trainer who let the punishment go on.

And since this is boxing, Pacquiao got his share, 135 punches came from the stronger Margarito.

Punches start adding up and take their toll.  Inside and outside the ring.

By stopping now,  the Pacman saves his energies for his day job in the Philippine Congress, and his real passion in life—leadership.

Notice I said leadership, which is not politics, necessarily. Yes, congress is all about politics, but Manny’s gift goes beyond that. He’s got the most important trait for a leader: Charisma. People follow and listen. This is something that can be developed, hopefully, for positive purposes. But it is Manny’s true gift. His fists may have brought him fame, but his real gift is public service.

Like Obama did in 2008, there’s something about Pacquiao that inspires hope.

Perhaps it’s the back story that creates the foundation for a mythic life. The hardscrabble upbringing, the tale of a street kid who turns to boxing to help feed his family.  Boxing discovered and nurtured him  to the point where he is the most intriguing fighter in the sport.

So why stop there?

Because there’s  life after boxing, and to preserve it, there’s no better way than to end his pugilistic phase at the top.

Pacquiao has established his boxing legacy firmly. His championship track is like watching one of those charts of the evolution of man. Eight weight classes? The only one who could repeat what he’s done is another flyweight with the same expansive heart and spirit. And that’s not likely to happen—ever.

Margarito wasn’t even the best challenger. But he was bigger, by a lot. And if there were any doubters left about Pacquiao, seeing the champ destroy a bigger man was enough to etch the legend in stone.

But boxing is as much about greed as it is about legacy.  Manny’s problem here is coming up with a suitable exit strategy for all.

People keep mentioning Floyd Mayweather, as if that’s the ultimate. It is not. But how do you top that match up?

A Pacquiao farewell in the Philippines.

One big blowout. The “Thrilla In Manila” with a real Filipino champ eight times over, and it doesn’t matter anymore if it’s a lesser fighter. It’s the last-pay-day. The Finale. People would pay to see a finale.  Train for real in Baguio, then take a week to travel and train in different parts of the country, ending in one big blow out in the big city.

Think of what it would do for tourism. And balikbayans would go for balikboxing.

It’s the “Manny go home, farewell tour and karaoke.” The Datu goes out on top.

All you have to see is an image of an addled Muhammad Ali in a wheelchair to know it’s the right thing to

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Win then go home: Manny Pacquiao’s greatest gift may not be in the ring

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As much as I love Manny Pacquiao,  I hope he finally comes to his senses and ends it all this Saturday night with yet another title fight, this time  against Antonio Margarito.

After all, the Pacman has to save his energies for his day job in the Philippine Congress, and his real passion in life—leadership.

Note I said leadership, which is not politics, necessarily.

Yes, congress is all about politics, but Manny’s gift goes beyond that. He’s got the most important trait for a leader: charisma. People follow and listen. This is something that can be developed, hopefully, for positive purposes. But it is Manny’s true gift. His fists may have brought him fame, but his real talent goes beyond the ring.

Like Obama did in 2008, there’s something about Pacquiao that inspires hope.

Perhaps it’s the back story that creates such a foundation for a mythic life.  You know, the hardscrabble upbringing, the tale of a street kid in Manila who turns to boxing to help feed his family.  Boxing discovered and nurtured his talent to the point where he is now the PPP (pound for pound) champion , and the most intriguing fighter in boxing.

Why stop there?

Because there is a life after boxing, and to preserve it, there’s no better way than to end the pugilistic phase at the top.

The Margarito fight is not going to be easy.  No Palooka, he’s bigger, maybe stronger, than Pacquaio.

On his HBO reality show, Pacquiao keeps smiling and says his speed will win out over Margarito.  And manager Freddie Roach says they’ll be making sure Margarito doesn’t cheat as he has in the past when Margarito’swraps had what I call  “punch enhancers.”

But then what do they do about the simple fact that Margarito seems to want this one more.  He’s on a comeback.  He’s looking for redemption. Hunger? Margarito has it.

For Pacquiao, being hungry and staying motivated does seem to have been a problem during his training sessions.

Reports from his camp showed that the regimen was not as rigorous nor as hard as it was for Pacquiao’s previous title fights.

Even Pacquiao’s manager Freddie Roach was expressing disappointment in news stories about how things were going in the Pacman’s training camp in Baguio and then in Los Angeles.

Once in the U.S., there were more distractions. As a Philippine Congressman, the champ was sought by no less a figure than Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid of Nevada to help with Reid’s excruciating battle against Tea Party upstart Sharon Angle.

Pacquiao actually broke camp to go to Vegas to rally Filipinos and other Asian Americans and minorities for the embattled democratic leader Reid.

And here is where Pacquiao’s value soared. The champ visiting Vegas in the final days before the midterm election helped Reid solidify his Asian American support.  According to CNN exit polls, Asian Americans, just 4 percent of the overall electorate, gave Reid 79 percent of their vote. Angle got just 19 percent.

The 79 percent from the Asian Americans was larger than the black vote for Reid (78 percent), and the Latino vote for Reid (68percent). Together it was enough to assure Reid’s job in the Democrat’s midterm nightmare.

Manny magic?  It definitely helped. When Reid was in trouble, Manny was called. He delivered.

On Saturday, he could deliver again.

An 8th crown in 8 weight divisions. ( I think he’ll outpoint but not knockout Margarito).

But if Pacquiao dominates, soon the talk will be whether he goes up to Middleweight and fights the winner of next week’s Sergio Martinez/Paul Williams fight.  (Forget about Mayweather, race baiter and poseur).  Are you ready for nine crowns in nine divisions?

But is that where Pacquiao’s  charisma and leadership are best suited?

All you have to see is an image of an addled Muhammad Ali in a wheelchair to know you can’t leave boxing too soon. Nor should you keep doing it, just for the money.

We shall see on Saturday if Manny’s heart is still in the game.

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The San Francisco Giants parade and ceremony: Otherworldly

Any mass gathering like the Giants parade on Wednesday is all about size and color, to use John Stewart’s benchmarks.

Color? Orange and black, baby. But really, it was all colors. Is there a more diverse fan base in the universe. I saw blacks,Latinos, Asians, Filipinos, young, old, straight, gay, disabled.  (A Filipino woman in a wheelchair asked me to take a picture of the empty chair Tim Lincecum sat in).

It wasn’t an all-white or all male crowd. It was a living mirror of the Bay Area.

When it comes to size, the parade was Woodstockian. Half-a million strong? It moved and snaked, then settled at the Civic Center where to me it felt like the the Obama Inaugural–but about 60 degrees warmer.

The warmth, the love, the smiles. It was perfect for Giants fans. It was even good if you weren’t a Giants fan. People were just  happy. Work was stopped. Teachers played hooky. Muni was free

But the bottom line, after all these years, there was real joy in Mudville.

That wasn’t the general feeling of the day after a dismal mid-term election when the mandate of 2008 got neutered and the country was sent into a two-year phase of gridlock.

So I was looking forward to the spectacle as anti-dote. Sure enough, Gavin Newsom, who had real reason to celebrate the day after winning the Lt. Gov’s race, had the sense not to gloat and to recognize it was time for the politicians “to step out of the way to restore a sense of pride and joy to the city.” 

So why was Gov.Arnold Schwarzenegger there?  He was treated like a Dodger, naturally.And a politician. New governor, Jerry Brown, native son, and another victor from the night before, should have been there.

Then on came the Giants. They just had to walk on and stay awhile to bask in the crowd’s admiration.

Speeches? That’s the politicians’ downfall. Baseball players are not as articulate in front of the mike as you’d hope. They perform at genius level on the field. Far from great wits or raconteurs, they can lead a cheer,however. On this day gargantuan cheers were all that was necessary.

One by one the mike exposed the ordinariness of our champions.  So it was great that the speaking was kept short. Only Brian Wilson and his beard shtick sustained some interest.  Buster Posey was also thoughtful. He wanted to win it all again.

But Aubrey Huff knew what to say and do. He revealed his heralded rally thong.

I have issues about lucky underwear having had a few pair. I did wash mine during the World Series to the chagrin of  superstitious friends . I told them it’s lucky underwear. Not lucky dirt.

I was not close enough to check Huff’s hygiene. But he did produce the thong for all to see, our championship amulet.

When “I left my heart in San Francisco” played, it was all over, just  like it is after a game at the stadium.

People stayed on wanting more. These are tough times,after all.  True joy is in short supply.

But the Giants had left the stage and now it was time for the memories to take over.

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An American fairy tale for a struggling country: San Francisco Giants, 2010 World Series Champs

 As a long-suffering fan and San Francisco native, I tried to replicate the team’s joy when the Giants won it all.  I jumped on the person next to me (fortunately, my wife) and then poured champagne (a bottle from BevMo’s .05 sale) on my head.  Wet? No worries. I had that thick orange towel they handed out at World Series Game 1 to soak it all up.

What a season. What a championship. 56 years it took? That’s just about my entire life.

So I’m still in a Giants semi-stupor, though it’s wearing off fast as I turn on the news and get a taste of reality.

Mid-terms, the stuff that counts, the direction of this country.  It’s all bad.

It’s the reason we need the Giants.

I voted last week so I didn’t have to think about real life too much today. I didn’t want a mid-term implosion to get in the way of my Giants’ euphoria.

I know I can’t stay in my Orange haze for too long, but the Giants’ story is just what this country needs. It’s a story of optimism, hope and belief. It’s a story of what happens when we all hope for the same thing and pull together.  In many ways, it’s a perfect fairy tale for a country struggling to stay afloat, socially, economically.

The Giants’ weren’t exactly royalty at the beginning of the year. They had some great young arms, but no supporting staff. No pop, no power. This team wasn’t suppose to play in October, nevermind November.

But there they were, a team put together with a recession budget. GM Brian Sabean was like a guy at the pick and pull, looking for parts to build a champion racer. He had a list and a credit card limit. He had already overpaid badly for Zito and Rowand in previous years. And even Renteria got too much.  So the Giants didn’t have the dough to build a Yankee-like coupe.  Instead, they put together a team that could race to the last day of the regular season and to Game 5 of the Series.  Castoffs? They were all grinders. Every piece was necessary and had a moment to shine at some point in the season.

But no real stars. Why that’s no good for baseball, as one commentator suggested.

The Giants and baseball may have a hard time competing with the violence of football. But they are reflective of a recession-age champion. It’s excellence built-on a budget. A team of hope. A team that the chardonnay sippers could love, along side the blue-collar bleacher bums. I sat with both during the playoffs. 

 First off, there is no team that has as diverse a fan base as the Giants. You look at the crowd and it’s not all of one type.  That’s how you know it’s San Francisco. I sat next to a young Latino teamster from the Mission, a Caucasian  female business owner from Potrero Hill married to an Asian, a white professional couple from the Peninsula.  A Korean immigrant and his born-here son from the East Bay. What kind of entertainment/team attracts that kind of mixed demos?

And after every victory, I must have hi-fived several hundred strangers after every home-run, run scored, or ultimate victory. No Purelle necessary. We were Giants family.

That kind of teamwork on the field, a sense of unity, is what was special about this team and their ballpark. Over 43,000 a night coming together over a victorious championship run is not as trivial as it seems on first blush. 

I admit I felt the same way in the  AT&T  stands as I did when I stood in 15 degree temperatures two years ago in the Washington Mall for the Obama Inaugural. There was a real sense of unity and hopefulness that I  hadn’t seen or felt  in a long time. There was no divisiveness, just talk of working together, of a brand new kind of politics. There were cheers, parades, speeches.

It wasn’t a game nor entertainment. It was for real. Where did it go? 

That’s why I want to hold on to my Giants’ feeling as long as I can. Because after today, I know the real world is not going to feel so great.