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JUAN GULAMAN
By Ed Picson
PhilBoxing.com
Tue, 08 Apr 2008
It’s fairly common for kids at play to get into arguments that would lead to one running home sobbing to Mama.
That’s understandable when you play without referees and judges and kids with immature minds double up as such. There will inevitably be arguments about a call or non-call, often ending up unresolved.
You can be sure however, that that kid who doesn’t stop whining long after the game, will be avoided by the others next time around. Even children can’t stand cry babies.
Speaking of cry babies - let’s take Juan Manuel Marquez - a grown man of 34 years, a professional athlete with the daunting nom de guerre “Dinamita”. Pretty macho credentials, right there.
But nearly a month after he lost a close decision to Manny Pacquiao, Marquez’s actuations call to mind my childhood playmate, Sonny Boy. He was a strapping young lad who towered above us, sort of a bully really, but who would go on and on in a high-pitched voice about a perceived injustice in the playing court.
We all used to marvel at Sonny Boy’s prematurely-defined pectorals and abdominal muscles that we dubbed him as “Boy Marmol” (marble). But when his belly-aching became an irritating habit, the gang decided that his marble-like chest muscles were actually made of “gulaman” (gelatin).
Hence, he became “Boy Gulaman” for life. (Hi Boy. Gulaman!)
Going back to Marquez; it wasn’t as if the close fight with Pacquiao was decided in lopsided manner. It was a split decision with Manny eking out a one point win (340-341 total points).
Everyone and his playmate saw the fight as one that could have gone either way. The TV commentators (both Filipino and international), the media almost everyone else who could appreciate a simple game of two men trying to hurt each other, agreed one or the other could have been the winner.
But as in all contests that require subjective analysis by a majority of the authorized judges, there is the possibility of one winning by the closest of margins, as Pacquiao did.
It was bad enough that Marquez raised a weepy ruckus to the amusement of some (most just ignored him). But for this spoil sport to come to the Philippines , bask in the hospitality and warm welcome of the Filipino people and then insult a national icon like Pacquiao in the face on national television, is the height of uncouth behavior.
“Give me a rematch. Even you know I won the fight. Many people all over the world believe I won the fight.”
Sure, and there are also people who believe Hitler was a saint.
What Marquez doesn’t realize is that many more, even those who had him winning in their scorecards, did not protest the decision precisely because it was that close! For Marquez to insist that he had won even when the over-whelming consensus is that the knockdown he suffered where his two feet were clearly seen waving to the overhead kleiglights, may have tilted the decision in Pacquiao’s favor.
In their first fight - a draw - it was Manny who was short-changed by a judge’s scoring error (as admitted by the juror himself), but it was Marquez who cried foul, despite being knocked down thrice. He stomped off the ring with his championship belt, much like my playmate Boy Gulaman crying home to Mama, pecs bulging, eyes teary.
Small wonder why Marquez doesn’t get the recognition that his compatriots Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales both enjoy as fighters worthy of their proud and courageous Aztec lineage. This one doesn’t know how to be gracious in defeat.
And he’s still at it, mouthing his outlandish and boring claim right in Manny’s turf, where he was given red carpet treatment.
Well, enough of this. Set this cry baby packing forthwith and declare him persona non grata for the insult he has heaped on the Filipino people. Marquez has over-stepped the bounds of common civility and he no longer deserves our hospitality, much less respect.
And don’t give him the rematch, Manny. Or you’ll never hear the end of it from Johnny Boy, er... Juan. He will never accept defeat if he had to be brought out in a stretcher
Let him retire without getting another mega-buck payday which he will only get with you as an opponent. Make him realize that real fighters don’t play with b**** of gulaman hearts and bad manners.
Adios, Juan.
By Ed Picson
PhilBoxing.com
Tue, 08 Apr 2008
It’s fairly common for kids at play to get into arguments that would lead to one running home sobbing to Mama.
That’s understandable when you play without referees and judges and kids with immature minds double up as such. There will inevitably be arguments about a call or non-call, often ending up unresolved.
You can be sure however, that that kid who doesn’t stop whining long after the game, will be avoided by the others next time around. Even children can’t stand cry babies.
Speaking of cry babies - let’s take Juan Manuel Marquez - a grown man of 34 years, a professional athlete with the daunting nom de guerre “Dinamita”. Pretty macho credentials, right there.
But nearly a month after he lost a close decision to Manny Pacquiao, Marquez’s actuations call to mind my childhood playmate, Sonny Boy. He was a strapping young lad who towered above us, sort of a bully really, but who would go on and on in a high-pitched voice about a perceived injustice in the playing court.
We all used to marvel at Sonny Boy’s prematurely-defined pectorals and abdominal muscles that we dubbed him as “Boy Marmol” (marble). But when his belly-aching became an irritating habit, the gang decided that his marble-like chest muscles were actually made of “gulaman” (gelatin).
Hence, he became “Boy Gulaman” for life. (Hi Boy. Gulaman!)
Going back to Marquez; it wasn’t as if the close fight with Pacquiao was decided in lopsided manner. It was a split decision with Manny eking out a one point win (340-341 total points).
Everyone and his playmate saw the fight as one that could have gone either way. The TV commentators (both Filipino and international), the media almost everyone else who could appreciate a simple game of two men trying to hurt each other, agreed one or the other could have been the winner.
But as in all contests that require subjective analysis by a majority of the authorized judges, there is the possibility of one winning by the closest of margins, as Pacquiao did.
It was bad enough that Marquez raised a weepy ruckus to the amusement of some (most just ignored him). But for this spoil sport to come to the Philippines , bask in the hospitality and warm welcome of the Filipino people and then insult a national icon like Pacquiao in the face on national television, is the height of uncouth behavior.
“Give me a rematch. Even you know I won the fight. Many people all over the world believe I won the fight.”
Sure, and there are also people who believe Hitler was a saint.
What Marquez doesn’t realize is that many more, even those who had him winning in their scorecards, did not protest the decision precisely because it was that close! For Marquez to insist that he had won even when the over-whelming consensus is that the knockdown he suffered where his two feet were clearly seen waving to the overhead kleiglights, may have tilted the decision in Pacquiao’s favor.
In their first fight - a draw - it was Manny who was short-changed by a judge’s scoring error (as admitted by the juror himself), but it was Marquez who cried foul, despite being knocked down thrice. He stomped off the ring with his championship belt, much like my playmate Boy Gulaman crying home to Mama, pecs bulging, eyes teary.
Small wonder why Marquez doesn’t get the recognition that his compatriots Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales both enjoy as fighters worthy of their proud and courageous Aztec lineage. This one doesn’t know how to be gracious in defeat.
And he’s still at it, mouthing his outlandish and boring claim right in Manny’s turf, where he was given red carpet treatment.
Well, enough of this. Set this cry baby packing forthwith and declare him persona non grata for the insult he has heaped on the Filipino people. Marquez has over-stepped the bounds of common civility and he no longer deserves our hospitality, much less respect.
And don’t give him the rematch, Manny. Or you’ll never hear the end of it from Johnny Boy, er... Juan. He will never accept defeat if he had to be brought out in a stretcher
Let him retire without getting another mega-buck payday which he will only get with you as an opponent. Make him realize that real fighters don’t play with b**** of gulaman hearts and bad manners.
Adios, Juan.
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