Bleachers' Brew #153 Elorde Rising

This appears in my column in the Monday April 13, 2009 edition of the Business Mirror.
http://businessmirror.com.ph/home/sports/8649-elorde-rising.html


Elorde Rising
by rick olivares

The signs were there. The champ’s grandson, barely a year old, would tap his small hand that seemed like it was balled into a fist onto the palm of the old fighter. The champ’s eyes lit up. It sent a wave of excitement throughout his body that was in its early stages of cancer that would go on to claim his life a year later.

Liza Elorde remembered feeling happy and yet at once, a lump formed in her throat. Her father-in-law, Gabriel “Flash” Elorde may be one of the greatest if not the greatest Filipino boxer of all time, but genes or not, if she had her way, her son and children to come would not take up the sweet science. It was much too brutal a sport for her own tastes.

But you know what has been said about one being able to run from one’s destiny but not being to hide.

And that’s what you get when the first born, Juan Martin Elorde, is nicknamed “Bai.” That is tempting fate.

More so when even the champ passed away, the gym in Sucat, Paranaque that he had built from his prize winnings became the hub of fighters from every corner of the archipelago who wanted to be the next Flash.

The Elorde residence is in such close proximity to the gym that Liza’s sons -- Bai and second born Juan Miguel or “Migs” as he is called for short – called it their second home. The brothers grew up playing basketball but soon gravitated towards boxing.

It was almost hypnotic -- the slap of leather on leather and the tip-tap of feet skipping rope. The sweat of the original Bad Boy from Dadiangas to the Magramo brothers to Rolando Bohol among so many others partially wrote the history of Philippine boxing on its floors. The musk of the gym had the smell of success and determination all over it. With no house helpers to look after her sons, Liza entrusted them to the care of her stable of fighters.

And that practically consigned their fate to the sweet science. She laughs at it now; at how the universe seems to conspire for certain things that you can run but cannot hide from.

The brothers eventually began to get the idea that their grandfather was someone important but it was while in school one day when the champ was mentioned in a social studies textbook when the questions and interest in their heritage began to take a serious turn. Their teachers and classmates said that they had no relation at all to the Flash save for the fact that they shared the same surname. When Bai went home and asked his parents about it, they gave him pictures and the championship belt to bring to class for show and tell to everyone’s amazement.

Liza prayed hard that her sons would not take up boxing and made a deal with them to finish their schooling before they could make a decision on what to do. The fact that they all played varsity basketball early on somewhat pleased her. “Besides, that’s where the money is right now,” she said to herself. Whether she was trying to convince herself or not, the call of boxing was much too great if only natural.

Not only were the grandsons heirs to Flash but they were reared also at a time when Manny Pacquiao had become the first true Filipino superstar on the international stage.

During Pacquaio’s match against David Diaz, the two boys who were also in California at the time of Pacman’s training were invited to join in his daily jogs. Bai was so thrilled that he found it hard to say anything. “Isn’t that enough of a challenge to continue boxing,” he said of that stamp of approval and recognition.

As thrilled as Bai and Migs are about boxing (who fight in the lightweight and bantamweight classes respectively), they try to go about their now adopted careers with as little fanfare.

Once their foes know that they are up against an Elorde, their training efforts are redoubled. They have nothing to lose which isn’t the case for the brothers. They admit to the pressure of carrying on their grandfather’s legacy.

In Bai’s very first fight which was held in Flash’s hometown of Cebu, the crowd raucously cheered the heir on giving him goose bumps. He beat his foe via unanimous decision.

But there is no sure win in boxing. One punch can turn the tide or worse, a series of them can do permanent harm. Every time they step onto the ring, there is fear in their heart. All they can do is train hard and try to knockout their foes to end the fight as early as possible.

When Bai was knocked down in the second round of a fight with Glen Mondol at the World Boxing Council convention at the Mall of Asia in November of 2007, everyone in the Elorde camp was stunned. Bai recalled being groggy but he took the mandatory standing eight count and finished the round. He came back strong to outpoint Mondol in the next two rounds to take a Majority Decision.

The fear of seeing her sons get hurt is not lost on Liza. She never watches them fight although she stays inside the venue. “I can tell if my sons are winning or not,” she reveals. “If our camp and family is screaming out loud then I know that we are winning. But if they are quiet then I know they are getting hit.”

So far, the brothers have been undefeated -- Bai is now 7-0 while Migs is at 4-0 – and have escaped any damage.

And it is to Liza’s relief that the youngest of the brood of three – Juan Nicolas or “Nico” – is the one son who is taking basketball seriously where he plays the point guard position for the De La Salle Zobel Junior Archers.

He joins boxing training only for footwork and lateral movement but other than that, he hopes to be able to play for a good college program and if God willing, make it to the pros. Nico is sure that were his grandfather alive today to see him, he’d be proud of his fledgling basketball career.

But the youngest son isn’t alone in exhibiting interests outside boxing. Migs has found another use for his hands other than pounding foes into submission. He’s a certified chef having graduated in Hotel, Restaurant, and Institution Management from the College of Saint Benilde.

“My boy can cook,” beamed the proud mother.

Between the pressure of winning boxing matches, basketball games, or handling the pressure cooker that is a kitchen, the Elordes wouldn’t want it any other way. The champ paved the way for excellence and a legacy one can be proud of. After all, isn’t that what anyone should strive for?



Author's note:
I first met the Elordes when I did the photo shoot for the Remember the Titans project I worked on for the Lead Institute of Sport and San Miguel Corp. I spent the whole day at their gym in Sucat and took some pretty good shots.

I later worked with them when I did the Glory Road boxing special for Solar Sports and the Elorde Awards Night.

I would also bump into them during Juniors UAAP play and would engage in friendly ribbing.