Delayed Liveblog on Pacquiao-Clottey!

(NOTE: I originally intended to liveblog the fight. But since the fight was such an interminable bore, allow me instead to allude to the interesting parts of the fight, all of which occurred in Autohaus BMW.)

This probably marks the first time that I have been dragged to a sporting event solely because of the enthusiasm of my friends and loved ones. Unlike my good friend Ralph, who prefers watching games where the probability of victory of his favored team is a 100%, I actually like watching sporting events precisely because there is no guarantee that my side will win. I would actually rank a Pacquiao-Clottey fight below a Nets-Wizards game, because in the latter, the desire to avoid the most embarrassing win-total in NBA history practically guarantees a passionate game, if one bereft of the skills and plays that characterize professional basketball.

Still, Jeroen has been one of my most consistent sporting event companions in the past five years. Moreover, Jeroen is Dutch, and a huge Manny Pacquiao fan. Jeroen's ardent support for Manny recalls a religious fervor of Nazarene proportions, and his love for his adopted country matches the outwardly patriotic pronunciations of any Filipino running for office this year. So yes, one could say that I was shamed into watching Pacquiao-Clottey.


My brother-in-law, Bodie, greets us just inside Autohaus BMW. He's in shorts and a t-shirt. He says he hasn't slept yet. He looks the way all Filipinos want Clottey to feel later. Good foreshadowing.

We're joined at our table by Blues Bad Boy, Joniver Robles. He also hasn't slept yet. He and Bodie ought to start a club. We devour a fantastic breakfast meal of Wagyu striploin, and are adequately lubricated with bottomless coffee. Someone just got knocked out, I think. We're not paying attention to the undercard bouts.

Brian Viloria is tiny beside Quinito Henson! He makes some good points though.

Tito Benjie Atilano just won a Nike Team Pacquiao jacket. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.



Iza Calzado just came in. I think she's a friend of Sherwin and his lovely wife, Tracy. She gamely poses for a picture. I'm not easily impressed by celebrities, but she's very gracious, and despite the dragging bore the fight eventually turned out to be, lively and cheerful. A class act through and through.

I'm just randomly constructing sentences because all the coffee I've drank has triggered a nervous energy that no amount of Pacquiao-Clottey pre-fight commentary can leech off. Bodie, Jeroen and Joniver are making fun of my attempts to connect to the internet.



My fellow Ondoy Relief Center veteran, and all around cool kid, Jared Joven is in the house!

My feeble attempts to connect to the internet were actually a blessing in disguise. While I appreciate Joshua Clottey's single-minded commitment to not getting knocked out, I could have done away with his single-minded commitment to never throw a punch. I think I actually slept through rounds 5,6, and 7. I hope Clottey enjoys his minor payday, because I don't think any big money fights will be coming his way anytime soon.


The fight was so boring, Jared and I had all the time in the world to pose for this picture.

All in all, this was a fight that could not, in any way, match the enthusiasm of its viewers. I hope Manny's subsequent opponents don't adopt the strategy that Clottey employed for this snooze fest. I will always respect a man's right to a decent livelihood, but this was ridiculous! It's almost as if Clottey didn't even want to try.