Pacquiao vs. Marquez IV: A tribute to the trilogy

By Boxing News - 03/26/2013 - Comments

marquez56By Babatis Banda: Two young warriors then, both looking for glory fought a close but gruesome battle. They battered and tangled in a battle dance that left no clear victor. What they did not realize was that they would meet again in the squared circle for a fourth painful time, all in the quest to set the record straight.

With a cry of injustice and desire to settle for supremacy, the war horns were sounded again and this time, the result was again painfully similar to the first.

Clearly, the cloth was of the same kind, woven with the same expertise and of the same quality. Attempts were made to draw the difference but alas, it could only be by the colour. The war mongers were at it again baying for blood…more blood. For the third time, the war-horn was sounded, and again the two worriers went for the kill. In a battle of wits and guts, the two took turns, violently pummeling each other into another controversial close call. It had become apparent then, that what separated the two spirited warriors was the perception of man, the judges.

They say, when two elephants fight, the grass suffers the most. There was so much controversy about the two warriors. Their supporters stood on the terraces and smeared mud and threw stones over to each other. They called each other names, made accusations and floated unpalatables down to the sewer ponds. It was agreed then, that the warriors should lock horns one last time to settle the scores once and for all.

There were claims and counter claims of how the grudge would be settled. One camp demanded the head of the other warrior, as the inevitable proof of victory against the other camp, and so their wishes were granted. The stage was set yet again for the sacrifice of blood to the gods of brutality and violence.

It was an electric night, the colourful neon lights lit the arena. The national war-songs were blared through the giant speakers and the warriors in salute to the goddess of violence. All this time, I sat…my neck hairs rising both in excitement and in fear of what I was about to witness. I just felt that Lucifer, had come down to watch the epic battle, and he would go away with a soul, a single soul at least or both at worst scenario.

They toyed…and circled and rammed heads against each other like two fierce animals fighting for mating rights. As everybody was beginning to relax and beginning to think the battle was over, lightning struck. One worrier went belly-flat and motionless. Lucifer stood up and was just about to whisk away a soul, but one of the gate keepers was alert, wrestled the devil spraying him with what seemed to be pepper-spray. The Devil coughed and sneezed once and left the arena. The warrior was sat up, and was given the nose-sniff tobacco so that he could make the return journey to life, and almost immediately the crowd began to roar in unison…he is a cheat, he is a cheat let us lynch him…he drunk the forbidden soup.

As the crowd rushed to lynch the victor, a match stick fell on the trampled dry grass and they were all burnt beyond recognition. The elephants have since dropped enough dung on the arena, and the grass is beginning to grow yet again as the war monger is watering the arena for yet another day for the opportunistic Lucifer.

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