Monday, December 04, 2006 Tampa Diary (Day 3) By Homer D. Sayson
TAMPA, Florida — The mornings of big fights are always the slowest. It’s the calm before the tempest. And that’s exactly the case yesterday as Boomboom geared for his Brazilian test under the bright HBO lights.
My day began with a prompt 4:15 a.m. wake-up call that I requested from the front desk. The early bedtime gave me ample strength to meet my deadlines, which I did so 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
At 10 a.m., I went for a haircut at Tribeca along W. Kennedy St., not far from the Hyatt Regency. Since it was just a smallish salon I didn’t bother asking how much a trim would cost. Much to my chagrin, it was $30 including tips. Ouch. “Can’t you put my hair back?” I was tempted to ask.
Nervous
By 11 a.m., I was back at the Hyatt. I had lunch with Boomboom, who cleaned a plate full of rice and chicken. He also had Italian lintel soup and he drank what seemed like a barrel of iced tea. Edito Villamor had no appetite. “I’m nervous,” he said.
Freddie Roach stopped by our table at Avanzure lounge. He instructed Boomboom to take a little walk after eating before heading back to the room to sleep. Roach also told Edito to fetch bottled water anywhere other than the arena.
At 12 noon, Edito and I took a stroll to Publix at Bayshore drive, a grocery chain four blocks from our hotel. He bought a 24-pack of bottled water and then went to Room 412 to give Bautista a massage. I went to my room to chill out, melt the time away.
Bored as hell, I strolled downtown Tampa at 2 p.m. Unfortunately, the place was dead. As in D-E-A-D. “They raised rents here, so businesses went elsewhere,” said an attendant at a CVS pharmacy where I bought shaving cream and a two-pack razor.
I was back at Room 410 by 3:00 p.m. and watched ESPN. I got dressed at four and was at Boomboom’s room by five. By then, Boomboom was relaxed, lying face down in his bed. Nearby, Edito Villamor was having a cup of beef noodles.
It was 5:50 p.m. when we left. Boomboom excused himself for a while. He grabbed the beads of a rosary, retreated to a corner and muttered a prayer. Seven minutes later, we were at the lobby meeting Freddie Roach.
We proceeded for the arena in a giant bus that was converted into a limo with mammoth leather seats, a bathroom, a big TV set and a microwave. We entered the St. Pete Times Forum at about 6:22 p.m.
At about 7:30 p.m., Boomboom climbed the ring in a blaze of glory. After just three rounds, he stepped out of the same ring victorious.
Dutifully, we waited for the main event and the post-fight press conference. We got back to the hotel at 1:15 a.m. We tried looking for a place to eat but found none in downtown Tampa. What a shame. So we ordered take-out food.
Magician
At 2:27 a.m., three boxes of pizza and 40 pieces of hot chicken wings arrived at room 410. Sammy Gello-ani paid $60 plus a $5 tip. Ten minutes later, the chicken wings vanished. No, there was no magician in the house, just five hungry men.
At 2:40 a.m., Mrs. Lou Aldeguer and her son Michael called to congratulate Boomboom. Several others chose to just text their congratulatory notes to Sam or Rey’s cellphone. Me? I just kept chewing.
With their flight scheduled at 7:30 a.m., Team Bautista chose not to sleep. They killed the time away by telling stories as I drifted in and out of consciousness. At 5:14 a.m., Sammy woke me up and said goodbye. I went to the lobby to bid farewell to Salven Lagumbay, Dong Secuya, et al.
I was joined in the elevator by Bernard Hopkins. Hopkins smiled when saw Boomboom. He shook Bautista’s hands and said “hi, baby assassin.” Bernard also shook my hands, but I was too shocked to say a word.
At 6 a.m., I was suddenly all alone at the Hyatt. Me against the world. Well, I found something good to do. I wrote a column and this diary. Enjoy!
