Ideal world for pro boxing

Milan Melindo’s heart-breaking loss to WBA and WBO flyweight champion Francisco Estrada over the weekend should not be a discouragement to local boxing fans. True, it appeared that Estrada outlasted the previously undefeated Melindo, but let’s recall that this was only “El Metodico”s’ first defeat. Estrada, who had averted a collision course between Melindo and countryman Brian Viloria by beating the latter soundly, was well-prepared for his defense. There is nothing to be worried about.

Also, it does not diminish the respect for ALA Promotions and Cagayan de Oro Mayor (and former Misamis Oriental governor) Oscar Moreno for all their efforts in creating programs to give grassroots opportunities for aspiring boxers. The fact that we have regular world title fights involving Filipinos is a testament to the success of their programs. And in professional sports, occasional losses are a fact of life. As the saying goes, you can’t win ’em all. Take the case of AJ Banal, who has only had two defeats in his career, but people remember those defeats because they were world title shots. Still, if that is the only remaining hurdle to overcome, then we’re in pretty good shape. Filipino boxers are exciting to watch, and technically proficient, and mix the best of both worlds.

What has happened to professional boxing over the last few decades? Why are Filipino boxers now being looked at as a blessing to the sport, outside of the phenomenal contribution of Manny Pacquiao? To begin with, there has been a diminishment of respect for the sport since the late 1970’s. This was a result of a disconnect with true boxing fans, who crave a personal connection with the boxers.

Time was when promoters rented venues like the venerable Madison Square Garden for their fight cards. This brought the sport closer to the fans, since cheap seats provided great visibility and provided fans with an “I was there” experience. Fights were unique, colossal bouts, memorable events. There were only three boxing entities, the WBC, WBA and IBF. Weight classes were distinct and separate, and it was very difficult to climb up or go down to a different weight class. They were just too far apart. Even if you had the same boxers fighting each other often (Leonard, Duran, Hagler Hearns, for example, or Robinson-LaMotta), they were outstanding, to the point that people still talk about them today.

What changed?

The connection between pro boxing and big-time gambling became stronger when hotel-casino chains started offering site fees to promoters. Instead of spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on venues, promoters were now earning millions of dollars per fight simply for shifting from public venues to casino complexes. The motive behind this was simple: in a competitive industry, casinos need more events and reasons to invite high rollers. Boxing provides a perfect excuse. Big gamers enjoy the sport, and can bet on the outcome of each bout. In exchange for being hosted in the best rooms (sometimes flown in for free in private jets) and getting free ringside tickets to the fights, there is the understanding that they will gamble their money away in their host casino. So the casino makes tons of money just by holding a fight there.

The impact of this vast new source of revenue tempted promoters, managers and even boxers themselves to create new boxing organizations, anything to make a buck. What resulted was a proliferation of “alphabet soup” groups. And though some of them did establish a certain degree of credibility, the end result was obvious. Boxers were no longer competing for a few championships. They no longer needed to go through the Golden Gloves or win an Olympic medal to establish themselves. All they needed was to win about 10 or so fights against patsies, and they were suddenly contenders. Boxing became a mill, a factory, mass-producing champions for a voracious audience.

But the biggest impact of this was subconscious, on two fronts. First, the regular man on the street was no longer close to the game. He no longer had hometown fighters to see up close, and could not really be inspired in person. Many of those who watched fights in the arenas were bettors, who would scream for blood if their favored fighter would lose, since he cost them a ton of money. This became the new culture of boxing. It was taken away from the true fans and placed at the disposal of big gamblers. Gone are the days when crowds applaud even the losing boxer.

And with all the manufactured champions, closer weight classes and catchweight fights, many fights are no longer as special as they once were.

 But let’s look at the track records of Filipino fighters. Comparing them to foreign fighters, many of our champions in recent years have been able to reign for years, like Manny Pacquiao and Donnie Nietes. Nietes is now closing in on Flash Elorde’s record of reigning as world champion for seven years uninterrupted. Our other boxers like Banal and Melindo have very few losses compared to almost all those who are contenders on the world stage.

How did this come about?

First of all, most of our boxers train in isolation, away from highly urbanized areas and are from very poor families in the provinces. Although that may sound like a familiar refrain, they are constantly reminded of their backgrounds, and are ingrained with the focus to get the job done. Being away from the US is a blessing in disguise. Our boxers are away from the media spotlight and the culture that celebrates quick glory and selfishness. The pervasiveness of that atmosphere in the US has had the effect of making boxers more selfish and impatient.

Promoters like ALA have made it a philosophy to teach the virtue of patience and being ready for a world title shot. They train together, not alone. They feel part of a team, not the breadwinner and funder of a large corporation.

It’s Filipino values that make the winning more special.