Lord of the ring

It was eerily quiet in Manila for most of last Sunday. In fact, if you could have flown swiftly over the country, you might have remarked on the empty streets in most cities. That's because everyone - and even their dogs - was inside the houses. And every one of them - man, woman, child, canine - would have been clustered in front of TV sets or radios, breathlessly awaiting and then cheering a Filipino boxer's fight in Las Vegas.

Boxing is a national obsession. In 26-year-old Manny Pacquiao, Filipinos have found a fighter worth the delirium. I didn't see the fight, but I read that in 10 rugged rounds, Pacquiao - also known as 'Pac Man' and 'The Destroyer' - gave his opponent (one of Mexico's greatest champions) the hiding of his life.

His victory triggered an exultation you would expect only in a European country that had won the soccer World Cup. But Filipinos are cold to the planet's most popular sport - few even know that the cup will be contested in Germany this year.

What people here love to see is a good fight: the pleasure of watching grit and courage; the thrill of witnessing grace and style; the enjoyment that comes from seeing someone pound an enemy into hamburger meat. That could be why basketball is also popular ... it has almost as much brawling, here.

Then let's not forget the gambling. I bet that if tracked, the amounts wagered on Sunday would have been enough to move several national financial indicators. Of course, I should say that boxing is visual, visceral and personal, which is how Filipinos like life.

Also, Pacquiao's story has strong cultural resonance: a poor, uneducated boy, once a gardener and construction worker, makes good and becomes fabulously rich because he knows how to use his fists to clobber the daylights out of people.