Monday, August 06, 2007 Sayson: Mayol epitomizes Filipino spirit By Homer Sayson Second Overtime
CHICAGO - It was already 8:01 p.m. when Rodel Mayol pushed his 108-pound body inside the ropes of the All-State Arena in Rosemont, Illinois last night.
By then, two Filipinos—Mercito Gesta of Labogon, Mandaue City and Bernabe Concepcion of Rizal Province—had vanquished their Mexican foes in the undercard of the Erik Morales-David Diaz lightweight tiff.
Gesta pummeled Carlos Madrid for six rounds, while Concepcion scored a brutal 4th round TKO of Gabriel Elizondo to annex the NABF super bantamweight belt.
Facing a 3-0 sweep, the largely pro-Hispanic crowd of 9,735 screamed their lungs dry. Driven by vengeance, they demanded Filipino blood to spill on the ring apron. Their cries were loud and passionate.
At 8:04 p.m., Ulises Solis, flaunting his IBF light flyweight belt, entered the ring. His caballeros yelled with even more gusto as the 5-foot-3 champion flung punches in the air while a red and green Mexican flag hovered above him. .
When Michael Buffer finally introduced Solis, the din turned from unholy to unbearable. From my ringside seat at Row 4, it was clear that the arena had become the noisiest place in the planet.
Since 2001, Mayol has fought in hostile borders, before unfriendly crowds. The buzz would not faze him I thought.
But then again, Mayol hadn’t fought for a title as meaningful as an IBF belt. And he sure hasn’t heard this kind of ear-splitting commotion before, a noise than can be heard from Chicago to Chihuahua.
Midway through the first round, Mayol got a taste of Solis’s power. As both pugs traded leather in the center of the ring, Solis snuck a left hook right smack on Mayol’s face.
The damage was swift, and bleeding on the right eye quickly followed Mayol, 25, recaptured his poise in the second round.
He deftly swayed from side to side, stopping Solis in his tracks with right straights that came behind a determined jab.
But Solis was relentless as a typhoon. He kept advancing, bullying a minimum weight foe who had never fought at 108 pounds before.
Ducking and weaving from a storm of punches, Mayol did fairly well in the 4th and 5th rounds. But the 6th was easily his best. He nailed Solis with a left hook and an uppercut, lethal blows that forced Solis to cling madly for his life.
Mayol increased the pressure in the 7th round. But Solis, still dazed, proved to be tough as a chalupa. He took the best of Rodel’s shots, including an uppercut that nearly knocked the Mexican off his socks.
Trailing on all the official scorecards after the 7th round, Mayol looked wasted when he returned to his corner. His feet were heavy, as though he had iron boots on. Both his eyes were swelling now, and he was taking deep, desperate breaths.
The end soon came. It was abrupt, so painful to watch.
With about a minute into the 8th round, Rodel threw a tired, lazy jab. It left him wide open. Taking advantage of Mayol’s mistake, Solis quickly threw his calling card, a vicious, unforgiving right straight.
The blow was picture perfect, a punch delivered from boxing hell.
When glove met chin, Rodel’s left knee immediately gave way, bending like melted steel. As his base crumbled, he fell to the canvas, face first. His left shoulder prevented him from rolling over and lying helplessly flat on his back.
Showing his true Mandaue grit, Rodel willed himself to rise. But his eyes were snowy, his mouthpiece was loose, and his legs were rubbery. Rightly so, the referee stopped the carnage.
I watched Rodel sit on a stool as doctors examined him near Solis’ corner. He was crying then, and as I thought about his 22-year old wife Lira and their 4-year old son Eizer Bryce, it was difficult to hold back my own tears.
An hour later, I dragged Mayol from his dressing room to the media center where dyAB interviewed him live on air.
As we rode the golf cart, Rodel cried some more. He felt he let Mandaue, his country, and his fellowmen down.
No Rodel, you acquitted yourself well. You’ve done us proud, even in defeat. For eight spectacular, bloody rounds, you made the Philippine flag sway with pride. And your courage epitomized the Filipino spirit.
It’s a wonderful feeling you gave us. A feeling that blunts the pain of losing an IBF belt.
You are one of us, Rodel. In triumph and in defeat, we will always be behind you.
