THE NIGHT Manny Pacquiao got beat by Eric Morales saw the emergence of a bunch of commentators ranging from ring-trainers, judges, referees and what have you to so-called expert analysts-throwing in their unsolicited outlandish views on one of the better-fought bouts at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.

Indeed, reaction to Pacquiao’s sorry loss has been quite revealing as seen by a substantial following of the fight game dubbed by the late Jimmy Cannon as the red light district of sports since its rotten beginnings.

The keenly fought ring war between two good jr. lightweights has brought to the fore the inseperable divide between the new breed of fans and those belonging to the old school. And the distinguishing attribute is not much on age but of attitude.

Yes, a great many-so-called fight authorities (Teddy Benigno certainly not included) keeps dwelling on the ‘what ifs’ as the culprit, conveniently ignoring the superb performance of the winner Morales who came out masterfully disrupting Pacquiao’s destructive rhythm–a mainstay of his varied arsenal that usually accompanies his whirlwind devil-may-care style.

I am uncertain if it was a case of incompetence or something more sinister but there is no doubting that these “Misters-know-it-all” simply cannot distinguish a right cross from the Red Cross to borrow a line from the late lamentable boxing impressario Pol Tiglao.

Even the inimitable Smokin’ Joe Cantada would be turning full bore in his grave knowing that there are those who are still around in the fight game imposing their skewed thinking on how a fight should be chronicled. He will, I’m sure, liken this group to out-of-sync wives who never seem to belong in this kind of a situation but still would be trying hard to wiggle out of it, thus earning an admiration laced heavily with utter contempt and downright derision.

Why, their sheer naivete’–nay lack of necessary knowledge of the sport–really could drive to the nearest bar even the most reformed AA alumnus.

So kind sirs let’s move on and leave behind the the “ifs and what might have beens’ and instead await the second coming of Manny Pacquiao–one of the heaviest hitters arguably in the super-featherweight division.

By the way, the expected return to active ring duty of the marvel from GenSan might take place soon.

The latest word from Pacquiao who leaves for a Los Angeles meeting with his lawyers on the cases he filed to recover missing ring earnings is a July non-title tenner.

A most welcomed development as prayed for by his ardent fans that remain hopeful that their idol will ressurect his stalled fistic activity sans the leeches (domestic and foreign) out to do him in. Meanwhile keep punchin’
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Hermie Rivera is a free lance broadcaster/journalist and former boxing manager.

SIX MONTHS INTO EARLY RETIREMENT, I am back in California state service as a “retarded” annuitant or retired “irritant,” take your pick–to work on a project for Arnold’s army.

This gig through June is with Mr. Schwarzenneger’s energy advisers. My Job is to help make his energy policies crystal clear to the electorate, I mean the people. After a bruising first term, Conan the Republican has announced he’ll run again for governor of the Golden State.

Mother nature has been fickle here for late. The calendar says winter, but the weather’s been spring-like, confusing the flowers to bloom ahead of time.

Anyway, kababayans hungry for news from home come up to me in parks, at the bus stop, in restaurants, etc. The hottest item on their plate is, you’ll never guess it–Manny Pacquiao and his expanding posse of admirers.

The one member of Manny’s planet who seems to cause all the curiosity is someone named Joe Ramos.

Mr. Ramos does not cook Manny’s meals, clean his plate, drive his car or make his bed when the Pacman arrives in Los Angeles.

According to news reports and column items, he is supposed to be the Filipino champion’s interpreter. As Pacquiao’s purse has expanded of late, so ha Joe’s clout in Manny’s camp.

On payday after his triumph over Erik Morales in their encore fight, Pacquiao rewarded Joe with a kingly sum of $50,000.

Such a windfall makes Joe one of, if not the highest paid interpreters on the planet.

The American Interpreters Association estimates there are 12,000 to 15,000 interpreters and translators in the United States. Many of them earn $30,000 to $60,000 annually–making Joe’s one-time paycheck something to shoot for in their lifetime.

But the sporting world knows that Manny has been freelancing, been doing his own interpreting. He has taken excessive lilberties with the King’s language of late.

Meantime, where has Joe been, sleeping on post, or doing other chores?

I can almost hear, an editor friend should he get the chance to confront Mr. Ramos.

The friend’s query would be short and sweet: “Joe,ano ba talaga ang agimat mo?” (Joe, what sort of talisman have you got?)

Well we would rather leave the Ramos followup to other interested parties, gossips columnists included.

Sports Note: Is it really necessary to impose the WBC international superfeatherweight title on a bankable fighter like Pacquiao? Is he aware that each time he comes out to box sporting that belt, the WBC deducts a substantive sum as sanction fee? A friend in the know says this is one of the greatest perfidies since the sale of the Brooklyn Bridge more than once by con artists in various eras.

EIGHT GOLD MEDALS DID THE TRICK when the philippines won the overall boxing title in the just concluded 23rd Southeast Asian Games.

Such a feat reminds us of two-time world champion Luisito Espinosa who has brought so much boxing glory to our shores.

Unfortunately Luisito’s story is increasingly becoming bizarre and far from complete. The latest chapter includes training to fight a ghost.

That the former champion’s topsy-turvy life has taken a tilt for the occult is an understatement.

Luisito, now 38, was TKO’d by a sympathetic athletic commission in California recently. Done in by a string of savage losses to upstarts, he’s been disallowed to fight for now in the Golden State.

Enter two friends, late bloomers to Luisito’s boxing heritage but are now addicted to it.

Joe Robles, a cop, and Frank Osias, an auto mechanic, now form Espinosa’s new management team.

Bucking naysayers, they plan to rebuild Luisito’s name–finding the time, money and effort to keep Espinosa sweating it out at the gym.

Even if the training is for a phantom bout this time.

Such is the life in California today for a world champion who twice scaled the apex of his sport. He held the World Boxing Association bantamweight title in 1989-91 and the World Boxing Council’s featherweight belt in 1995-1998.

Luisito lives with the Osias household in Fairfield, California. Fall is in the air in America, a bleary season indeed, we imagine for Espinosa.

The fighter should have retired by now due to advanced age and diminished skills. But for someone who earns a living as a fighter, he continues to face the horror that can occur within the ropes.

Life’s attractions beyond the ring could have been there for Espinosa if his civil action to claim an unpaid champion’s purse of $150,000 from eight years ago had been settled.

Luisito plans to come home for good, invest in a gym, show young boys how to box. And perhaps re-fight past matches of his glory years.

That is, if and when he gets the money due him.

But three years later, the case remains unresolved and had put on the elements of a John Grisham legal drama.

The case was last penciled in for a hearing by a Manila court early this year. For mysterious reasons, that hearing never occured and, needless to say, remains in legal limbo. It could someday end up in the Guinness Book of World Records, certainly not a feather in the cap of our judicial system.

“I am about ready to throw in the towel,” admits broadcaster Hermie Rivera, who filed the case for Luisito. Rivera took over Joe Koizumi as Luisito’s manager after he earned the purse for defending his world feather crown in Koronadal in 1997.

Increasing words of despair from Rivera must be music to the ears of ex-governor Larry de Pedro, boxing manager Rod Nazario and matchmaker Lito Mondejar. These inhabitants of the red light district of the sport have selfishly stood their ground.

Paying is farthest from their minds.

But knowing Rivera, he won’t call it a night that easy. He will go on seeking the abolition of the Games and Amusement Board for acts inimical to the sport. “It was this agency which allowed this travesty to happen by ordering Louie to fight despite not being paid in full as required,” says Rivera.

He will also work for the adoption of a local Ali Boxing Law to look after the interest of fighters taken advantage by unscrupulous promoters, managers and the like.

More power to people helping Luisito get what is rightly his.

And to people grappling with their conscience about the boxer’s current plight, two queries:

What have you done to a man whose life is more than boxing–it’s about being an amabassador of the Philippine Culture?

What have you done to a true hero from the slums of Tondo who succeeded to bring down the giants of his game and give us immense pride as a people?