Remember when you were sixteen and couldn’t get a date if your life depended on it?
You did all those things you were told to do around the fairer sex – paid for dinner , opened car doors , bought flowers.
Meantime us poor saps were completely ignored and the object of your desire hooked up with the dude on parole with jail house tatts , a rap sheet as long as your arm and three illegitimate children.
It seemed it just wasn’t fair to be Mr Nice guy. He seemed to finish a distant second , dateless on a Saturday night , waiting by the phone.
Well I used to pontificate on such things ; I was convinced Clark Kent would never win the race , that the brooding taciturn types won the prize and the genuine good guys fell by the wayside.
The same thinking applied to boxing – I was convinced that in order to reach the pinnacle of the sport a fantastic talent had to be allied with a brash attitude , a monumental ego and pure arrogance.
Manny Pacquiao has made me believe that this doesn’t have to be the way it works.
Apparently , the good guy does indeed finish first.
I genuinely defy you to find me a fan who isn’t won over by the passion the ‘ Pacman ‘ shows for his sport. I challenge you to point out anyone who doesn’t love the humility and happy go lucky demeanour he presents every time he steps in the ring , and in his post fight interviews.
Some fighters can become the showman upon entering the squared circle – Muhammad Ali and Naseem Hamed immediately come to mind as champions who looked positively giddy at the prospect of being punched in the face for a quid.
On the flip side for Ali and Hamed was a cruel streak ; an innate knowledge that they were far superior to their opponents and they were absolutely going to show the world their place in the pecking order.
Joe Frazier has never recovered from his Ali’s constant pre fight rhetoric. Hamed would pick at a horribly overmatched foe like a child pulling the wings off a fly before administering the coup de grace.
Cut to the present day and Floyd Mayweather’s ‘ Money ‘ moniker and repetitive hubris strikes a similar chord. Only recently Roy Jones physical gifts allowed him to mock an unfortunate opponent a second after delivering six hooks in a row , or to chat to ringsiders about the weather while blocking punch after punch.
There is no such posturing from Manny. The Filipino superstar smiles like a child at Christmas upon gracing the arena. He looks like he is about to board a roller coaster at the local theme park rather than shape up to a world class fighter on his way to the ring.
In the lead up to bouts only positive and glowing references are bestowed upon his opponents.
He trains like a maniac , allowing any trash talking to be only delivered by his venerable trainer , Freddie Roach.
He appears as happy as the proverbial Larry in the face of challenges the size of Mount Rushmore , and answers question after question in interview after interview despite English being his distant second language.
He appears devoid of stress on every occasion. Carrying the weight of his nations expectations doesn’t seem to bother him an iota. Rather he sees this as his mission statement in life.
He never forgets the humility of his origins , the overwhelming poverty he came from or those he left behind.
These traits are all typically those of the ‘ nice guy ‘
Shouldn’t this by default make Manny boring according to the textbook definition?
Not by a mile. And the answer is obvious why.
Pacquiao displays a genuine love for the sport I have never seen before. He radiates joy for combat and joy as we know, is infectious.
Wether he is throwing bombs, or on the business end of a left hook Pacquiao revels in combat – he glorifies in the moment.
This pure eagerness for his sport is contagious. This incredible enthusiasm, combined with his intensity of spirit and obvious charisma will rarely result in a boring or non compelling fight.
A perfect example of this occurred when I watched Pacquiao against Miguel Cotto last time out.
My girlfriend finds boxing as stimulating as watching turf grow. She didn’t expect to get much joy out of watching two fighters she had never heard of.
However from round one onwards she was completely mesmerized by the action unfolding on the screen before her.
The fact that Pacquiao was a multi division champion fighting in a record seventh weight class truly meant squat as far as she was concerned.
It was simply a case of two brave , well conditioned pugs giving their all that had her attention.
She was entranced by the intensity of the action ; the shift in momentum from the chess match in the first two rounds switching to Pacquiao scoring knockdowns in rounds three and four.
The inexorable reversal of fortunes , as Manny found the correct range and adjusted his game plan to deal with the naturally heavier Puerto Rican in front of him.
The refreshing lack of ego and bravado between the two champions.
The incredible energy shown by Pacquiao as he started to break down Cotto physically and mentally.
The charisma and charm of the Pacman entranced her to its finality in the twelfth round as Manny closed the show on yet another dominating performance.
Afterwards she said ‘ That’s the most exciting fight I’ve ever seen. ‘
Next day she posted on her facebook page ‘Pacquiao and Cotto – Champions forever’.
If that isn’t a vote for the nice guy , I don’t know what is.
Score one for Clark Kent.
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