as usual, crime rates will literally drop to close to zero as all the thugs stream to venues to start betting on variants of the fight: knock out? pacquiao wins? which round?
amidst all the shouting, screaming, fainting and cardiac arrest erupting in every corner, i am contentedly sitting in my favourite coffee shop that's practically devoid of customers as i wait for the results to come in. o how i wish i can see the new head and shoulder hair of manny swing to the left and right (if it doesn't get in the way of his vision) in an obvious beiber inspired cut as the fight happens.
who wouldn't want to see aling dionisia don her white vestments and swing to and fro in front of her altar complete with all national camera crew jostling for a position to capture the classic datu puti facial expression? While the spectators from another part of her home scream at every punch, bite, kick and elbow thrown, she prays fervently that manny brings home the money (so she can get her hermes bag).
and in newsrooms all over the country (and globe), sportswriters, experts and people who think they are experts ready their articles to go online to praise manny or bemoan his defeat in the hands of mosley. don't mind mayweather, he'd still trash manny no matter what the end results may be.
in all this commotion, i wish and pray for manny's success with a cup of coffee in my hand and a newspaper in another. good luck manny :)