By Reni M. Valenzuela
Pacman is most dangerous at this time as a boxer.
He can float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. Imagine a Muhammad Ali with hands that have been turned into gloves of stone, all set and ready to break the hardest rock in a single stroke. Imagine a Henry Armstrong in a flurry of merciless blows to grind a giant idolatrous bust to powder. Imagine a Sugar Ray Robinson with long stretch offense that can crumble China’s Great Walls; able even to penetrate through the biblical Jericho’s solid thick walls of defense, strong and forceful enough to confuse his rival, and everyone having the chance to witness rarity in fight sport.
Imagine boxing without a true star.
Pacquiao has just gone fresh from a miraculous conversion and he’s not only back to his “old form,” he is well advanced in might and ability to humble any godless warrior or beast “man enough” to engage him in the ring.
The Pacquiao who would beat Timothy Bradley in a stunning fashion weeks from now is the Pacquiao who could have crushed Juan Manuel Marquez to pieces within five rounds in their trilogy bout.
We’ve seen just ghosts and shadows last November 12 in the MGM Grand. But brace yourself on June 9. On that date and in the same boxing arena, we will not miss the real Pacman. The bout’s outcome is in Pacquiao’s heart to decide. He could choose either to cause his opponent to fall-flat straight in a stretcher or have pity on his soul, if soul he has. Such formidable odds against the rope or against yourself.
Boxed in a squared ring, Timothy’s only choice is to be on his knees.