Great Expectations
 By Vikram Birring (Oct 6, 2007) DoghouseBoxing (Photo © German Villasenor)
On November 15, 2003, Manny Pacquiao walked into the Alamodome as a virtual unknown in the sport of boxing. He had been champion in numerous weight divisions, but on this night, he was facing a boxing immortal: Marco Antonio Barrera, otherwise known as ‘The Baby-Faced Assassin’.
Emmanuel Pacquiao was born in the Philippines in poverty. Like most boxers, he turned to fighting as a way out of his desperate situation. He was known to sell cigarettes on the streets of Manila as a way to get enough
money to purchase a piece of bread, his usual meal. Occasionally, he would end up in street fights, his talent was immediately recognized by elders and he was transformed into a professional boxer.
Pacquiao made his name in the United States June 23, 2001, when, on two weeks notice, he was called in as a late replacement against the supreme South African super bantamweight champion, Lehlohonolo Ledwaba. Ledwaba had been champion for over two years, and had notched up five dominant defenses after his initial victory. Pacquiao was expected as another easy opponent. Ledwaba’s great expectations, however, quickly turned sour.
Pacquiao battered Ledwaba for six rounds, knocking him down repeatedly, until the referee mercifully stopped the fight in the sixth round. After the last knockdown, Ledwaba held his hands over his head, the sign of a beaten man.
By the time Pacquiao faced Barrera, he was a huge star in his native Phillipines. Even his countrymen, however, did not give him much of a chance against one of the greatest champions in recent boxing history. They sent prayers to the heavens, yet still pondering afterwards wondering what good the prayers would do for Pacquiao in San Antonio. It
seemed that other than Pacquiao and his father figure Freddie Roach, few believed Pacquiao had much of a chance. Roach thought otherwise: During the week of the fight, he bet $1,000 on his fighter to win by knockout, at odds of eight to one. His bet was an epiphany.
San Antonio, Texas, is a city known for one event: The massacre at the Alamo. Fans were not expecting another massacre on this chilly November night, as Barrera walked in confidently, looking mean as ever, against a happy, smiling Pacquiao, who seemed happy just to be in the same ring as Barrera. This author was in attendance, and other than Roach, probably the only person rooting for Pacquiao in a raucous audience of Mexican-American boxing fans.
The first round was the only bright note of the night for Barrera, as he scored a questionable knockdown. Pacquiao was already down two points after three minutes, but the move by referee Laurence Cole seemed to light a fire in Pacquiao’s eyes, similar to the flames on his trunks, and Barrera felt the heat soon after.
In the third round, Pacquiao landed a straight left cross that knocked Barrera down. The crowd was in shock, similar to the reaction of a spouse after learning their lover has cheated on them. Barrera got up, but perhaps it was not the best idea, as Pacquiao proceeded to assault him with the intensity of a man possessed.
Combinations against the ropes, combinations to the body, straight left crosses, everything was working for Pacquiao on this night. What Barrera was supposed to do was in fact happening to him. Nobody wondered about the outcome any longer, one simply wondered how long until the fight would go on until it was stopped.
In the late rounds, Barrera seemingly looked for a way out, as he head butted Pacquiao’s chest for no apparent reason. The unsympathetic Cole threw Barrera back into the battle after deducting a point, not sensing the intent of Barrera’s actions.
Finally, in the eleventh round, Barrera’s brother Jorge stopped the carnage. No man wants to see his brother getting beaten up for thirty minutes, it is inhumane and cruel. One man had become a star, the other a faded memory. Now on October 6, 2007, they fight again. Barrera wants revenge for his humiliating defeat, and Pacquiao aims to prove that what happened in the first fight was not a fluke. The winner cements his legacy as the best featherweight boxer of his generation.
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