The name of Eduard Folayang rings out first whenever they talk about a Filipino mixed martial arts star in various Philippine localities.
He is the best known mixed martial arts practitioner in the country, with roots in the Mountain Province, where he has become an adored star and model citizen.
When Folayang, out of nowhere, won a first world title, there was a frantic call from a female poet friend, vowing to make Folayang available for an interview.
“Write about him, this is incredible, the first time this has happened,” she swooned.
Of course, it was wholly Manny Pacquiao as the dominant neighborhood hero when it comes to professional fighting.
But Folayang was readily being propped up as an up-and-coming great international warrior.
Out in the city wet market sports hub, Folayang’s name started to ripple.
“Magkano kinikita niya, was he making at least a hundred thousand?” asked Boss Bobby, the main man in the wet market meat section.
This was some three years ago, the period when Folayang was being marketed hard for his lightweight title defense at Mall of Asia.
The event was called the ONE World Championship.
The title defense would be a big confirmation, as the great Flash Elorde loved to put it; because winning a first title was only the baptism.
So there was Folayang at center stage, luminous, muscular, a bronze icon in his soldout appearance at MOA. He was a quiet barrel of power preparing to explode.
Would he jump out and stop his foreign challenger in a single blaze?
Damn, what happened was terribly surreal; Folayang, a willing target, took one big solid kick to the head.
He was instantly down, beaten, conquered, crownless in less than a minute.
The whole MOA was dumbfounded. What followed was a tragic trek back to the Mountain Province for countless Folayang adorers.
He was not shattered. Pride intact, the poor fellow vowed to be back.
There was not much about him hereabouts while mixed martial arts proceeded to make waves all over the world.
Unknown to many, Folayang had gone on to recapture his lost ONE crown.
Did he do it in Singapore? Wherever. The greater thing was that he was again lined up for a crown defense. This was last Sunday, March 31, in Tokyo, the Ryogou Kokugikan gym.
His outfit—Team Lakay—prepared hard, making sure it had packed everything for the Tokyo trip.
There was a tense, excited wait. Then Folayang was there again, every inch a world champion, solid bronze, the poster boy of MMA in the Philippines.
The ONE lightweight championship started with Folayang taut, waiting keenly. Japanese Shinya Aoki, pale and lighter, let out a couple of sharp kids, which Folayang ably dodged.
Folayang himself dug a punch to the belly, before trying one big kick, which missed.
Folayang was trying to do the fighting from outside, but was next grabbed by Aoaki, a submission artist.
It appeared Folayang was gaining the upper hand in the tight skirmish, but Aoki rammed up, and rode Folayang on the shoulder, thereby toppling and pinning him down.
With his might, greater build, Folayang had the chance to spring back. No way, he was pinned under, caught breathless in a choking triangular arm lock.
There was bedlam at ringside as Folayang tagged out at 2:34 of the first round.
Team Lakay was all but wiped out.
It took the referee a total of three calls before Folayang moved to center ring to join his Japanese conqueror.
Was it the real Edward Folayang, and not a caricature, who showed up in Tokyo last Sunday?
After the award ceremonies, Folayang, definitely the real one, said he made a big mistake.