Last weekend at the Yokohama Buntai Arena on the night of March 15, 2026, Nonito Donaire stepped through the ropes at age 43.
The local crowd — politely roared its approval — after all, the “Filipino Flash” is a ring legend and has fought several Japanese champions before, most notable among them being “The Monster” Naoya Inoue.
Donaire had come for one more eliminator, one more ladder rung toward a bantamweight crown in a division he had once ruled.
Riku Masuda waited opposite him, 28 and with only nine previous fights to his name — a rising storm from the land that had already tested Donaire’s mettle.
THE FIGHT. For several minutes in the fight, the old electricity flickered. Donaire’s left hook, that thunderbolt that has separated several men from their senses still snapped forward like a promise kept. In the early rounds, he made the younger man blink, made the arena remember why he was once a pound-for-pound elite fighter
But sometimes, the body betrays what the heart refuses to admit. Masuda’s jab was a metronome of precision, landing where Donaire’s reflexes had grown a heartbeat slower.
Still, Donaire pressed on, chin high, shoulders rolling the way they had when he dismantled Vic Darchinyan in one blinding night long ago, when he knocked out Fernando Montiel, when he traded fire with Inoue twice and left pieces of himself in the canvas.
Round 5 saw a clash of heads which left Donaire cut and this made Masuda grow in confidence. A slugfest transpired in the sixth with Donaire landing a huge right hand but despite being stunned Masuda pressed forward and continued to exchange.
Donaire seemed to slow down in the seventh, clearly hampered by the cut. Suddenly, Masuda’s straight left cracked against Donaire’s temple, knocking the latter down. He rose before the count reached eight, eyes clear with the old defiance.
But the legs that had once carried him through intense wars now seemed uncertain. In the eighth, Masuda unleashed a storm. He ripped body shots that folded the air from Donaire’s lungs.
His hooks found the jawline where the reflexes no longer guarded. Donaire staggered, and from the corner, the white towel flew like a surrendered flag. The referee then called for the denouement of the fight.
Afterwards, Donaire stood in the center of the ring as the Japanese crowd thundered its approval for the performance given by both fighters.
LEGEND. No doubt, “The Flash” in Donaire has dimmed. He has lost four of his last five fights. His record now stands at 43-10, a ledger that bears numerous wars in too many nights.
But Nonito’s legend is alive and well. In the Philippines, boxing is not sport — it is scripture and Donaire has written chapters in blood and lightning. He has been a champion in four weight divisions. In a country that needed heroes more than it needed titles, he has delivered on so many occasions and given so much more.
If he decides to hang it up, he will have no regrets as every single night, he gave it his all and has never cheated his fans.
If the lights in the “Filipino Flash” ever go dark, his legend will flicker on.
THE LAST ROUND. It’s on my sister, Jeehan Quijano who recently celebrated her birthday. Cheers!