KRIP YUSON: Sundays are for Pacquiao

That momentous fight against Oscar de la Hoya in December of 2008, we watched at the Octagon in Silver City on Frontera Verde (near Tiendesitas). For the first time, we joined a large, rather well-heeled crowd, with the special venue commanding higher prices for the white monobloc seats and three large screens shared by nearly a thousand viewers. The tickets for my son and me came courtesy of Solar Sports, likely because I was with the MTRCB then. And bossman Wilson Tieng was part of that crowd, along with then senator Dick Gordon, some PBA pros, and I forget now what other celebs. But for most of Manny Pacquiao's other storied fights since pay-per-view came into vogue in these here parts — from Manuel Marquez to Erik Morales to David Díaz — it was at my kid bro's place on Gilmore, in his basement den that opens to a backyard where a couple of dozen drivers and neighbors' drivers and their kids assembled. The 42-inch Panasonic Plasma lent itself to tiered socialized viewing, with us who were blood kin enjoying closer view from comfortable couches, with no bobbing heads before us. Ricky Hatton, I saw him sprawl on the canvas — while in the company of some 50 other guests of the 7,107 Islands cruise ship that had anchored off the little-known but fabulous Malcapuya Island in Palawan's Calamianes Group. A Genset and satellite dish had been set up to power one large TV set inside an upraised bamboo hut on the edge of the white-sand beach, and another, smaller one at the back, protected from imminent rain by a tarpaulin. We of the main crowd sat on monoblocs under an open-sided tent, and patiently waited for the delayed telecast. In fact a sudden rain did fall, sprayed all around by gusty winds, soaking those of us on the edges. Then the squall stopped and the sun shone and the Pacman sent us back to the surf very happy with the quick stoppage. The Miguel Cotto fight some fellow Bedans and I watched at our alumni Prez Lino Dionisio's unit at Serendra. A few of us had to keep going out to the balcony between rounds to puff away. The Joshua Clottey run-athon my son and I saw at the Las Villas clubhouse a minute's walk from our place. We paid for our tickets and placed ourselves on the back row for an easy slide out towards the pool, again to smoke in between rounds. And early today, we were back at my bro Rico's place, enjoying clan togetherness as well as the brunch and late lunch that sandwiched the 12-round domination of Antonio Margarito. Elsewhere all over our islands, families and barkadas got together for yet another special Sunday of worship, entertainment, and national bonding. Years from now, when Congressman Manny has retired from the ring and goes for the Senate presidency, maybe even higher, we will all treasure the memories of the first decade of this millennium when our Pacman reduced the crime rate for a day, thrilled us with his skills, and made us proud as one family in celebration of the best fighter in the world. Some are now saying of all time, with of course the pound-for-pound qualification. He could well be. He has certainly eclipsed our first great fighters in Pancho Villa (whom only sports historians and researchers still recall) and Flash Elorde — our big little men who became world-beaters in different fashion. Pancho Villa cavorted in Hollywood with Mae West and was tragically felled by an impacted molar, while the humble, steady Gabriel Elorde ruled his junior lightweight division for all of seven years. He tried to move up one division, but couldn't do well in that leap. This morning a grandson of his may have been victimized by a hometown decision in Dallas for the first loss in his young career. With Pacman, his amazing climb to the very peak of ringcraft has given us all a bond with history itself — how an underweight teener who ran away from Mindanao because his dad had eaten his dog steadily worked himself to the bone and perfected his talents, mainly that fueled by heart. The speed and the power were to come later. A terrific trainer and savvy handling, plus that consistent desire to outdo himself, did the rest. We have an eight-division champion, and he's Pinoy. And no one may match that record ever. And so we'll recollect before our grandkids how attendance at noonday Mass dipped one Sunday in November 2010 when our Manny Pacquiao of the congressional district of Sarangani became the first to achieve that feat, in the process also becoming the first ever legislator to win a title in a boxing ring — the WBC World Super Welterweight championship. And we'll also recall how we watched him pummel The Golden Boy at an SM theater, or Morales and Diaz and Hatton and Cotto and Clottey and Margarito at the Cuneta Astrodome or the Yñares Center or at a Sports Grille bar or some city's or town's free public venue. And how we roared with keening excitement that turned into glee and great pride as our champion Manny Pacquiao kept outdoing himself time and again. Sweet times for the sweet science, we will remember — with every detail — and thank ourselves that we lived in these times, those times — but with the most gratitude reserved for one small guy who became so big the world over that he lorded it over our special Sundays. - GMANews.TV