Hats off to Sen. Manny: Was he honestly beaten?
The immediate clear view was that of a great bout, a fight of the year candidate. Both Manny Pacquiao and Jeff Horn deserved a big hand. The Battle of Brisbane should go down as a credit to the sport of boxing, based on the sheer merit of compelling combat inside the burning ring.
The victory by the obscure and unheralded Australian hope could well be counted as the Upset of the Century.
It’s just too bad that the sparkling picture would suddenly blur, with dissenting voices the morning after calling the official result anything but honorable.
Truth is there was nothing very clear.
“You think Manny lost that one, talo ba?” exasperated neighborhood fans asked as they milled from the Barangay Vergara Court, where Kapitan Topet Mendiola again offered wholesome widescreen viewing.
OK, maybe Manny didn’t lose, but you honestly believe Pacquiao won, panalo ba talaga siya?
Not even the most rabid Pacquiao devotee could offer a firm reply.
It’s like this: Based on the computerized count, Pacquiao should be a runaway winner with the tremendous number of punches connected. He landed nearly twice as many as the shots scored by Horn.
Unfortunately, the total picture painted through crushing shots and assorted intangibles would show Pacquiao had allowed himself to be outclassed, savaged and outfought—if not outpointed.
Pardon this, but the most tangible thing that surfaced was the painful fact that it was no longer the great Pacquiao who did battle out there in Brisbane on Sunday.
He started slow and tentative, thereby allowing Horn, whom Team Pacquiao predicted would start out trembling, the great momentum that ignited the fierceness which sustained him all the way to the final bell.
Pacquiao, who had been tipped to stop his inexperienced foe, was often on the cringing end of a bold and boisterous assault, which Horn also laced with some dirt.
Then came Round 9. Bloodied and battered, Pacquiao suddenly woke up. He exploded with a fearsome flash of his original fire.
It was Pacquiao all the way. Just one last blow and that would be it. Sorry, but the bell rang with Pacquiao, visibly worn out, flailing limply at Horn. The killer punch was gone.
This reporter scored it 10-8 for Pacquiao. Horn had appeared hopeless, gone, thus forcing the referee to warn the Aussie’s corner that he would stop the fight in the next round, if Horn did not show him something.
Of course, the bigger wonder was how Horn, given up for dead, resurrected, returned to action in the tenth with fire in his belly and great valor in his eyes.
It was not a clear and honest win. Still it would be unfair to say Horn did nothing worthy to merit the triumph. The venerable Tom Hauser, who scored the bout for Pacquiao, put it succinctly when he said it was a combination of age, bad judging and, yes,
Horn, that did Pacquiao in.
As could only be expected, questions and accusations continued to mount days after the Battle of Brisbane.
The Horn triumph will be scorned indefinitely, while Pacquiao, after licking his wounds, remains an adored treasure, with his legacy intact despite this latest debacle.
There’s an urgent plea for Pacquiao, the warrior, to call it a day.
He has nothing more to prove. Please, Mr. Senator: The entire nation also suffers each time you lose, fairly or otherwise. Thank you very much, Sir, we will always be very proud of you.
