Death of a boxer

From my personal archives. April 7, 2007

All Angelito Sisnorio Jr. wanted was to fulfill his dreams—earn money, help his family have a better life, bring honor to the country. The boxer did not probably expect that by reaching for the stars with gloved hands, he would die at the young age of 24.

I do not know him personally. Perhaps the only link I have with him is the city of Koronadal, where he grew and where I'm studying now. But we don't have to share more than one common denominator for me to understand why he made boxing his profession. He is no different from thousands of young men who pin their hopes in prizefighting. His struggles in life are much like that of millions of Filipinos.

On March 30, he fought in Thailand without proper authorization from our country’s Games and Amusement Board (GAB). The bout was a mismatch, which is said to be a common practice in Bangkok to improve the records of Thai boxers. Lito was knocked out in the fourth round after receiving a series of right hooks from Chatchai Sasakul, a former world champion who has won his last six fights, four by knockout or technical knockout. Lito's records, meanwhie, consist losses in his last three three fights, one of which was by TKO. He won just five of his 11 fights since turning professional in 2003.

Several hours after the fight with Sasakul, Lito began to vomit violently in his dressing room and was rushed to the hospital, where doctors immediately began brain surgery. He never regained consciousness. He came back home in a coffin. As compensation for Lito's fate, his family received about P300,000 from GAB, Manny Pacquiao and the insurance company that covered the fight.

The death of the super-flyweight fighter prompted authorities to take stringent measures to protect the life and ensure the safety of our boxers. Malacañang and GAB has ordered the immediate ban on the sending of Filipino boxers to Thailand. The World Boxing Council in Bangkok vowed to check every fight in Thailand to prevent mismatches and make sure every boxer has complied with the requirements before engaging in a match.

Let’s not kid ourselves. The authorities can only do so much with such precautions. The way boxing is played is in itself life-threatening. Every severe blow in the head causes permanent damage to the boxer’s brain, and repeated pounding may result to brain hemorrhage. If we really want to prevent the loss of another life inside the ring, the solution is simple: ban boxing.

Of course, our government will not dare totally forbid the violent sport. Not when our best hope for an Olympic gold medal lies in our boxers’ fists. Not when the only time the country becomes united is during the fights of Manny Pacquiao. Not when the government cannot provide a decent alternative means through which boxers can have a good life.

When some friends and I went to a town fiesta two months ago, we chanced upon a boxing competition for kids in the town plaza. Before the first match started, the mayor addressed the crowd of not less than 250, saying that the activity that afternoon was organized “for the enjoyment of the people” and “in the hope of discovering another Manny Pacquiao.”

The townspeople indeed had a great time, especially when kids aged about 9 or 10 slugged it out. The kids themselves seemed to be just having fun. They sheepishly smiled when hit, and they hopped in joy when they won.

When it was the older boys' turn to fight, the laughters faded, signifying that this wasn't just a game anymore. And it would be anything but a game. I found myself blurting out, “Daw patyanay na gid ni ya” (They seem to be killing each other).

Watching boxers fight on TV, even with blood oozing out of their noses or brows, has the same effect to me as watching an ordinary action movie. But watching boxers fight in flesh, even without the blood, made me feel as if I was transported to ancient times, when hapless slaves were made to fight in the colosseum until one would be killed, all for the Romans’ viewing pleasure.

It does not take a genius to see why many young men are drawn into boxing or are supported into it by their families. Prizefighting may not be an easy way to have a better life, but it is surely a much faster way. Ordinary employees have to work their fingers to the bone for several lifetimes to earn the amount Manny Pacquiao rakes in from a single bout. And with the kind of public education we have and the scarcity of jobs in our country, it’s no wonder many Filipinos see boxing as the only way to get out of desperation and poverty. For them, it’s not just a sport; it’s a means to survive.

I am not anti-boxing. Boxers and non-boxers alike may die while doing their job. Manny Pacquiao will forever be one of my idols (notwithstanding his dabbling in politics). I could never forget how proud he makes me feel every time I watch him fight.

Boxers learn lessons in life that I might never learn in my pampered existence. I will forever be in awe of young Filipinos who brave the ring to reach for their dreams. But I believe boxing should not be the best option for them.