Pieces Of A Man: I Am Manny Pacquiao. Are You?
“It’s not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or when the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.” -Theodore Roosevelt
I’ve had a long-standing love affair with the brutal sport of boxing. I love the big fights. I love the small fights. I love the winners and, depending on the fight in the dog, the losers. Before I was married (and later divorced), I even had my bachelor party at “Mickey Ward vs Arturo Gatti 3,” to the chagrin of some of the men that attended. To hell with them. I was never into strippers anyway.
I’ve also had a long-standing love affair with the Internet. AllHipHop.com, my company, was founded in the late 1990s and blossomed in the 2000s. I feel like I’ve seen it all online, from the inside to the outside. The AllHipHop Ill Community is just that—ill. It’s a monster that we created in many ways and it continues as such. But, the Internet has changed in the advent of social media, viral connections and a larger, more sinister monster has emerged. This beast is merciless with yellow teeth and it comprises of millions of collective people that band together in waves, surrounding the epic moments in history. It all started humorously, I believe, maybe even innocently.
Manny Pacquiao in an epic bout by knockout to his long-running rival Juan Manuel Márquez. The dirty ball of jokes and spectator humor traveled downhill rapidly and collected more and more filth as it descended into a full-fledged mudslide. Every fool with a photo app, Twitter account or Facebook page was sharing pictures that only a few people had actually created. People were seemingly getting their rocks off. There were pictures of him laying on the beach, or with Michael Jackson leaning over top him saying “Manny are you okay?” Seriously, these were funny and others, funnier. But, as it went on, these humorous exploits became uglier and more mean-spirited.
I was done with the jokes when one of my Twitter followers (and one-time college classmate) responded to a Pac Man quote I tweeted with “RIP.”
The gem of a tweet said: “It is your response to winning and losing that makes you a winner or a loser.” – Manny Pacquiao.
My blood started to boil a bit at the notion that somebody would find that a fair response to a man the was still very alive and still had a career in this sport should he choose to.
I am Manny Pacquiao.
The quote that began this phenomenal op-ed is one by Teddy Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States. I don’t know much more about Teddy, but I put this quote to memory in the 1990s and it has followed me through every stage of my life. From it I draw a lot of strength particularly when I have gone through trying times with an audience in full view.
Maybe I’m getting sensitive as life goes on, but I felt for Manny. In fact, I was definitively prompted to write this after I saw a picture of a smiling Manny consoling his doting wife, who appeared to be weeping uncontrollably. I felt their pain and then, with the backdrop of callous jokes and sideline commentary, grew angrier. I thought about my recent trials as a single father and as a divorcee. Then I thought about my toil to get where I am now, which as far as I am concerned, is as far from the top as the day I started. Then, I thought about losing my father and other family members and overcoming struggle after struggle after struggle. And, subsequently overcoming each struggle or facing those trials that remain until they crumble in an absolute battle of attrition.
Manny Pacquiao isn’t retiring. He’s a champion beyond the wildest dream of the jokesters and the mean jerks.