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Did you see Matthysse fight Pacquiao?

By Al S. Mendoza

 

WE celebrate every victory.

And if it’s achieved by our compatriot, the more we become ecstatic. Euphoric.

That’s the story once more on Manny Pacquiao’s recent triumph.

By knocking out Lucas Matthysse of Argentina on July 15 in Kuala Lumpur, Pacquiao is a world champion again.

With his seventh-round knockout of Matthysse to dethrone the world welterweight title holder, Pacquiao has now amassed a total of 12 crowns in 23 years of professional boxing.

Include in that remarkable trophy tally eight world titles in eight different weight divisions and you have a virtual superman in Pacquiao.

It is generally agreed that no boxer will ever surpass, even equal, Pacquiao’s incredible feat.

His successor is yet to be born; and if he should be conceived at all, that is for God to decide.

From flyweight to junior middleweight world champ, only a special breed like Pacquiao can accomplish such a near-impossible dream.

His niche in boxing history is secure.

His name will be etched in the boxing pantheon of not only the greats but the super-super greats as well.

But even before scoring his July 15 conquest of Matthysse, Pacquiao has already assured himself of boxing immortality.

That is why to the pundits of the so-called “sweet science,” Matthysse was but gravy to Pacquiao’s delicious smorgasbord of global feats.

I raise, though, some serious concerns on the Pacquiao-Matthysse bout.

Why did Matthysse have to kneel several times before literally surrendering in the seventh for a technical knockout (TKO) loss to Pacquiao?

Why did we not see Matthysse unleash even one of his famous power punches in the 21-minute battle?

Was Matthysse in the fight at all?

I don’t think Matthysse fought afraid—he being a world champion and the owner of 36 knockouts in his 39 wins.

Unless Matthysse was nursing a toothache or a bum stomach, I could insist the Argentinian might have fought to lose and not to win?

By fighting like a scared rabbit, could Matthysse have taken a dive?

That’s just a guess, of course.

We need proof.  Evidence.

As always, to accuse is as easy as combing your hair.

To prove every accusation is as hard as proving the existence of God.

And with the win virtually handed to him on a silver platter, Pacquiao, at 39, feels young again.

To him, sky’s the limit once more.

Let’s leave it at that.

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