Pacquiao, the legend

When i came to Manila i was asked almost instantly after getting into the cab, if i was going to watch the fight. "fight"? i asked. "Pacquiao vs Marquez"! I shook my head. A frown grew across his face and i instantly decided it was best to change my answer less i end up a statistic. "Maybe" I said. "who do you want to win"? he hit the brakes and looked in the mirror, "Pacquiao"! Picking up on his tone and eye language i chimed in "Yeah me too, totally, i hate that Marquez guy" He didn't buy it but he took mercy on me and i was driven directly to my hostel. i really didn't give it another thought but the next morning the security guard that i had chatted up the day before asked me "are you going to watch the fight? see the streets"? i looked around and they looked empty, "Everyone in the Philippines is watching it" he said. He suggested i watch it across the street at a hotel that was offering it with a brunch buffet. The idea of getting in on something that was captivating the country was too good of an opportunity to miss and i wandered over to check it out. It was 9:30 am and i was told in fact that there was only one ticket left. I bought it on the spot for 700 pesos (about 16 bucks) and was told i better get a seat on the double. "Salaman", utilizing the only word i knew. Surprised looks and giggles from the ladies behind the counter reaffirmed the notion that even if i butchered it, showing that i am making an effort goes a long way. If you are like me and not a boxing fan, you might have missed the biggest thing to happen here in a longtime too. As fate would have it, i was in the elevator on my way. the fight was scheduled for 1:00 pm but at almost 10:00 am the room was packed with some 300 people. I found an empty seat and was told i could leave my complementary water on it in order to hold it and go take the shower i so badly needed. so there i left my headband and water. I hurriedly packed and showered and was back with all my gear for the fight of the year. I went to my seat and was informed that in fact it was taken. I looked down and sure enough there was my headband and water. "no, no, this seat is taken" i was told again, "this is my husband" pointing three seats down. Apparently that fact won the disagreement. Not knowing what to make of it, not wanting to make a big deal about it, being the only one standing, the only white guy in the room and the only one wearing two backpacks, i searched the sea of curious faces for an empty seat. Not 5 seconds had gone by when someone said, "here, take this one" she got up and moved and boy was i thankful. "Salaman, Salaman" grins all around and i found myself sitting within a family of six. Parents, their two daughters and their daughters husbands. I was asked who i was rooting for and the whole family and indeed anyone in ear shot turned and waited for my answer. Having learned my lesson, i threw some shadow punch and pronounced "Pacquiao"! extra loudly so that there was no mistake that this odd looking white guy was firmly in their corner. Cheers and pats on the back from the Flores family and a particularly happy look from Mother Flores. The Flores family and i hit it off them taking pics of me and i them as they told me about their golden boy Pacquiao. I learned not only was he the welter weight champion of the world but a congressman, singer and actor. From what i gathered this was the third fight between him and Marquez (all you sports people are shaking your heads no doubt wondering where i have been for the last few years) With one draw in the first fight and a particularly contentious win for Pacquiao in the second. This was going to be a battle for the ages. The two had a rivalry that was compared to Muhamed Ali and Joe Frazier. How lucky to have been able to be there for this monumental event. the beginning of the fight started with the singing of the Mexican and Filipino national anthems. I stood with the whole room for the Filipino anthem and was in awe of the beauty of it really, really great anthem. Then, i heard from the speakers, "its now time for the American anthem". As i stood and removed my bandanna, i was clearly the only American but when it finished no one clapped harder then the Flores family, bless them. The fight was a nail biter, 12 rounds of pounding and punishment from both sides. Girls shrieked when Pacquiao was hit and men cheered when he was able to counter. Almost everyone in the crowd was pretty certain that he had lost going into the final decision. As luck would have it, Pacquiao, the pride of the Philippines, held onto his title. The room went crazy and i found myself hugging and highfiveing everyone in arms reach. Just another wow moment from across the globe. Ok, on to the bus terminal for my 6 hour overnight ride north. Miss you all.