THE PACQUIAO-MARGARITO FIGHT: A GLIMPSE OF THE HEART OF A

FILIPINO CHAMPION

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Pacquiao-Margarito: What We Can Learn From The Humility, Empathy, and Grace of Manny
Pacquiao

Posted by michaeldsellers on November 14th, 2010

Another Pacquiao fight — another drubbing of a much larger opponent, and Pacquaio’s legend as a
boxer grows. But the fight between Manny Pacquiao and Antonio Margarito produced not just a
memorable pay-per-view experience worth every penny of the $64.95 it cost — it produced, for this
observer at least, some moments of clarity that helped me better understand what makes the Filipino
“National Fist” so much more than just a great athlete. The True Tale of How the Fight Unfolded, and
How Pacquaio Had to Fight Through Early Adversity to Gain Control First, if you didn’t see the fight
but have read about it, you probably have read that Pacquiao dominated; that he won every round or
almost every round; that he cut Margarito to shreds so much so that everyone, including Pacquaio, had
legitimate concerns about Margarito’s health and whether the fight should continuing the later rounds.
That rendition of the fight is accurate up to a point — but it fails to capture the genuine peril that
Pacquaio faced in the early rounds, the genuine threat that Margarito represented, and thus the
challenge that Pacquiao overcame to prevail against Margarito–a fighter who was in the best shape of
his life and weighed 165 to Pacquiao’s 148 on fight night–an advantage of not just 17 lbs but 12% of of
body weight–a Goliath to Pacquiao’s David and a disgraced Mexican warrior on an epic quest for
redemption Could Margarito have been more prepared or more motivated? I don’t see how. That’s
what Pacquiao was up against.

Think it was easy for Pacquiao? Think again. As the fight began, Emmanuel Steward, hall of fame
trainer and normally shrewd commentator for HBO said: “I see the size difference — it’s a big factor
right now. I see he’s not used to punching at a man as big as this one who seems to be absorbing his
blows pretty easily.” Then there was Margarito’s jab — a new weapon — that was touching Pacquiao
up in the first round. Steward: “What I’m surprised about is Margarito’s jab, which is a very good
move, and that seems at this stage to be the most dominant punch in the fight.” A few moments later,
with a minute to go in the first round, Steward said of Pacquaio: “He may have a problem tonight —
the physical size seems to be a big factor.” By the time the first round ended Pacquiao had thrown
enough punches to win the round — but just barely, and the sense was that he could be in trouble, that
he finally might have bitten off more than he could chew. The jab was a problem, the size difference
was a problem, and Margarito–a notoriously slow starter–might get stronger as the fight wore on. In the
early part of the second round Max Kellerman — another normally astute boxing analyst and
commentator, had this to say: “Margarito has landed not only some shots but a head butt followed by a
right hand — these are hard shots from a big man.” This prompted Steward to repeat: “The size is
being a big factor as I see it right here.” Then, after Pacquiao mounted a flurry that didn’t seem to hurt
Margarito, Jim Lampley said: “The loss of power from punching up could be a factor in the fight” –
meaning that Margarito’s height advantage was causing Pacquiao to punch skyward and this was
taking power out of the punches. Then with 10 seconds to go in round 2, Steward said: “Looking at the
eyes, Pacquiao is much more uncomfortable than Margarito is at this stage even though he may be
winning the fight.” Lampley: “Brand new experience for Pacquiao.” Easy fight? And that was how it
felt after the first two rounds. But as he has so often in the past, Pacquiao — guided by the man he calls
his “master” Freddie Roach — gradually began to solve the Margarito puzzle and find ways to use his
astonishing hand speed, footwork, head movement, and ring savvy to start slicing his opponent, most
notably opening a cut under Margarito’s right eye that almost immediately began to swell, causing the
eye to almost close. [[Comment: Margarito went straight to the hospital after the fight and it was
determined is orbital bone was broken.]]

From there Manny gained the upper hand but even after the cut had begun a problem, there were some
nerve wracking moments, notably in the 6th round when Margarito got Pacquaio against the ropes and
hit him with a huge left to the liver that buckled Pacquiao’s knees. Later, and more than once, he
rocked Manny with uppercuts, most notably one in the 8th round that clearly hurt. Yet in spite of being
hurt more than once, Pacquaio dominated; he repeatedly landed power punches that soon had
Margarto’s entire face swollen and bleeding and yet Margarito — to his credit as a warrior if not a
sensible human — refused to go down and refused to stop. By the 10th round there was ample reason
to stop the fight–and Pacquaio glanced at the referee more than once as if to ask, “Shouldn’t you end
this?”, and his look was one of concern, not bravado and dismissiveness. Steward at that point
commented that while the referee had every reason to stop the fight–he wouldn’t because Margarito
was still demonstrating his grit by throwing punches even though he could hardly see and his punches
no longer had snap or power to them. To which Kellerman said, rightly: “It’s not about his eyes, it’s
about his brain — how many power punches flush to the head can a man take?” And indeed, by the
end, the compu-box figures that Pacquaio had landed a disturbing 401 power punches to Margarito’s
head — and who knows when the damage from that kind of beating will present itself. Margarito on
his stool between the 11th and 12th rounds looked more like Rocky Balboa in the original “Rocky”
than any real fight most of us have ever seen — both eyes almost swollen shut, punch drunk, but
demanding that he be allowed to continue, to finish it. All that was missing was Margarito yelling “cut
me” to make it a complete reprise of Hollywood’s epic and amped up vision of the outclassed warrior
willing to risk everything to go the distance. There he was, insisting through his mangled features that
he wanted to fight one more round, to make it to the end, and his corner let him do it–a decision that
honored Margarito’s epic courage but placed him in epic danger.

And then it was the 12th round, with Margarito out on his feet and all but defenseless, game but beaten.
There was every reason to believe that Pacquaio, hungry for the KO that would put the exclamation
point on his performance, would swarm Margarito and either drop him at last, or mount a swarming,
blistering final assault that would leave the referee with no choice but to stop it. But that didn’t happen.
Grace in the 12th Round The first sign that something special was about to happen came during the
traditional touching of gloves before the last round. Pacquiao touched them up, but went a step further
— giving a deep nod to Margarito – a salute — and then, as if to make sure the salute was understood,
he touched his right glove one more time to Margarito’s — stepped back, crossed himself, and began to
“fight” — but not quite. For the first 30 seconds of the round Pacquiao, who had been throwing power
punches at a rate of one every five seconds of the entire fight, threw only two tentative punches that
wouldn’t have hurt a fly, circling Margarito instead of engaging with him. Pacquiao threw his third
punch – an inconsequential jab, 40 seconds into the round –thus three inconsequential punches 1/4 of
the way through the final round, when by simple “average” punch count Pacquaio would by then have
normally thrown at least 25 punches. Something was up. At 45 seconds into the round, Lampley was
the first commentator to realize what was happening and comment on it: “Max, I honestly wonder
whether Pacquiao has no more stomach for the punishment. He doesn’t seem eager to hit Margarito
any more.” Kellerman: “It looks like he’s carrying Margarito right now.” Steward: “It’s much like Joe
Calzaghe did…” Lampley: “Some of the greatest fighters in history have done this. There is no
question Pacquiao is pulling his punches now. He is not following through and committing the way he
does……it’s a nod to Margarito’s guts and courage…and Pacquaio is going to let him finish the fight.”
And then Lampley capped it off — no doubt with some hyperbole — but then Pacquiao invites, and
deserves, hyperbole: “This is not Manny Pacquaio the fighter, this is Manny Pacquiao the
Congressman, Manny Pacquiao the cultural icon, Manny Pacquiao the citizen of the world. That’s the
man who’s letting Margarito finish.”

Humility, Empathy, and Candor in the Post Fight Interviews As the fight ended Pacquaio knelt in his
corner in prayer as is his custom. I’ve watched Pacquiao do this and each time I’m struck by his body
language as he prays – the intensity with which he clutches his gloves to his head, blocking out the
crowd, the arena, the chaos around him creating what clearly must be a profound moment of heartfelt
religious communion. And then, moments later as the championship belt was draped over his
shoulders, a smiling Pacquiao immediately looked around for his crucifix – found it dangling from the
hand of a handler, then immediately leaned forward, head bowed, placing it around his neck.

And then a gracious and amazingly (yet typically) humble post fight interview with Max Kellerman
who started by saying: “Manny, that was a pretty big guy you just beat up – what was that like?”
Pacquiao: “It’s hard, I really …I mean ….I did my best to win the fight….he’s strong….a very tough
fighter. And I can’t believe it.” Kellerman: “What can’t you believe?” Pacquiao: “I mean, he’s very
tough and strong and I never expect that.” Who ever heard a boxer be so candid and so humble after
such a victory? What other boxer’s ego would allow such statements?

Then Kellerman drilled down a bit, noting that Pacquiao had gotten his back to the ropes and had a few
tough moments in the fight, ending it with “Why was your back on the ropes.” Pacquiao: “Well, I’m
trying to psyche him that I’m not hurt, but the truth is — he’s really strong and I got hurt.” Full stop —
again, when did a winning boxer ever admit so openly to getting hurt? Kellerman: “When did you get
hurt?” Pacquiao: “When I stayed on the rope.” Kellerman: “Where did you get hurt?” Pacquiao: “In the
body and in the face. He got me in the uppercut, so … I am so lucky tonight.” And later, in his second
interview: “I tell you the truth. I got hurt in the body shot, I tell you, I got ..I felt so weak in that round
because I got really hurt in my stomach.” [[Comment: Two days later, on Monday, there were media
reports that Pacquiao had canceled a TMZ appearance due to rib and torso pain--and watching the
replay of the shot in question, it was apparent that the blow almost dropped Pacquiao to the canvas, and
that he struggled mightily to regain weather the storm it caused.]] Kellerman then asked — what were
you asking the referee to do when you looked toward him in the 11th round (presumably imploring
him to stop the fight). Pacquiao: “You know, I feel….pity to my opponent…his eyes, his bloody face,
you know — take a look for that.” Later, in another interview, Pacquiao was more direct: ”Boxing is
not about killing each other. It’s about entertainment.” Kellerman: “In the 12th round it looked like
maybe you were backing off, maybe not to hurt him”: “I’m not looking for a knockout. I want to finish
the round. My trainer said take it easy, win the round, just be careful.” Now this is interesting because
on the surface it sounds like Manny was just following Roach’s instructions–and indeed I have no
doubt that Roach gave the instructions Manny describes. But I think there is something else going on
here — he didn’t want to “dis” his opponent by saying that he intentionally let up.

Instead, he just left it that his corner told him to win the round and be careful. But everything from the
salute to Margarito at the beginning to Manny’s demeanor throughout the round confirms that he was,
indeed, “carrying” Margarito to the finish line, giving the warrior his due in the process. The interview
finished with Pacquiao saying: “That’s all I can give. I’m trying to make people happy.” For a boxer to
say “I want to make people happy” seems overly simplistic on one level — but when you think of
where Pacquiao comes from — not just the Philippines, but the mean streets of the Philippines, a place
of grinding poverty where there is no escape and where hope is often all but extinguished — the power
to “make people happy” is a power that means more than producing a transitory moment of enjoyment.
It’s an ability to fundamentally alter that state of mind and heart for people – to lift them up and make
them feel that there’s hope, and good things are possible in a tough unfriendly world. For Manny
Pacquiao, to “make people happy” is something far more profound and meaningful than it would be if
the same statement were coming from an American boxer. Asked about his next moves, Pacquaio
replied: “That’s why …. I have another job after this, I’m going back to the Philippines and do my job
as a public servant — and I want to help people.”

Honestly — much of the time when Pacquiao speaks English you have the feeling that he’s groping for
words, that he could be much more articulate in Tagalog — and yet there is a simple clarity to his
choice of words — ‘do my job as a public servant’ and ‘I want to help people’. How can you not
believe he is sincere — and humble. He’s not just a “public servant” – he’s a congressman, and rightly
proud of that. But he always chooses to refer to himself by the term “public servant”, not
“Congressman”. There’ is genuine humility–and perhaps a touch of political genius– in that. The Last
Word Those of us who are connected to the Philippines have followed Manny Pacquiao for many years
and we’ve heard him say things like this, and act in this humble, gentle manner — so this in itself is not
news for us. But as his fame grows and the rest of the world gradually wakes up and takes notice of
Pacquaio as a sporstman who transcends national boundaries and the niche of boxing, hearing him
speak this way reminds us that while on the one hand what we see in

Manny is unique, in another way it is not, because what is on display when Pacquiao speaks is essential
Filipino values that typify the elusive best of a country whose people’s humble and gentle virtues are
not particularly well understood abroad. This is, after all, a world where, for example, some cultures
have adopted the term “filipina” to be slang for “housekeeper”. The truth is, it’s easy for ignorant
westerners to underestimate and misinterpret the gentle, gracious nature of the Filipino character — yet
somehow Manny Pacquaio is singlehandedly changing that, teaching the world and reminding the
Philippine universe that humility, grace, compassion, and empathy can coexist with the heart of a
warrior.

Yet even if Filipinos instinctively understand the meaning of Manny Pacquiao better than we
foreigners — they have been traveling on a learning curve with Pacquaio as well. Remember that
Pacquaio’s popularity in the Philippines, great as it is, did not automatically win him a berth in
Congress. He ran previously, two years ago and lost badly. Some said the loss reflected what was in
essence a cynical “no” vote from an electorate who wanted him to keep fighting; others inerpreted the
“no” as a desire keep Pacquiao from becoming tarnished by the dirty nature of Philippine politics.
Pacquao lost, and it wasn’t a split decision — it was much closer to a political knockout. But he didn’t
give up, he showed patience and sincerity and above all perserverence, and throughout it all he
continued to talk compellingly about his real reasons for doing it — and along the way many of the
skeptics who saw in his first run for Congress a questionable act of celebrity ego began to gradually
come to understand that it was another impulse, the impulse toward genuine and sincere public service,
that was driving Pacquiao. And so now he has the position he sought — the position of “public
servant”, and he has stated that his goal is to become a “champion of public service” as his life
transitions toward a new phase. Boxing has been his vehicle to “make people happy” in one profound,
“let me lift you up” way that Filipinos perhaps understand better than the rest of us. That phase will
end.

But now, today, he is an elected Congressman who through both his boxing and public service has
truly has made millions of people happy in that transcendant way he seeks–so truly and so beautifully
that the skinny kid who grew up on the streets may well someday have the opportunity to lead not just
an impoverished Sarangani province, but an entire resurgent nation that with Pacquaio as example-
maker-in-chief–a long-suffering and self doubting country that under his inspired leadershp may lift
itself up as a country in ways that would be just as surprising, yet just as inevitable, as Pacquaio’s rise
to the top in boxing. I for one believe in Manny Pacquiao–his heart, his sincerity, the sheer power of his
will, and the true Filipino essence of his character. He makes me feel hope for the future of the
Philippines, and proud to be part of a Fil-Am household that has plenty of Filipino blood flowing
through our family’s veins.