It was enough to put lead in any man’s pencil, the great boxing match between Australia’s loved son Jeff Horn, an Anglo-Aussie and Filipino icon and WBO welterweight champion, Manny Pacquiao. Pacquiao is said to have one of the fastest hands in boxing, and bets were on that he would cut Horn to ribbons. Imagine fighting a savage little terrier that kept on coming for you. No thanks.

But, it did not go that way, in the biggest upset to ever occur in boxing, some are now saying. Horn just hung in there and traded blow for blow, blood for blood. I travelled to Brisbane from Melbourne by bus, after a friend, who knew another guy, who knew a bloke down the street, who knew Horn, had a spare ticket. Mate, this is Australia. Horn is just one of us; he drove a Toyota Camry and worked as a schoolteacher. Fuck, this is the Rocky movies, and I was there to see it, even though I had to use binoculars to see what was happening, my seat was such shit.

In the ninth round I thought that Horn was finished, he took such a whacking. Most boxers would have just lied down and died, but he told the referee words that I think I made out by lip reading: “Don’t stop this fight Ref. Manny has given his best shot, but it is just foreplay and now it’s my turn to fuck him over,” but I am probably wrong about this, knowing nothing about lip reading, and being drunk at the time on Jack Daniels. He most likely would have said: “I am ready to keep going.” And, keep going he did.

This little Aussie battler hung in there to the end, and won unanimously: 117-111;115-113 and 115-113. Manny threw more punches than I have ever seen in any boxing match, so Horn defeated someone of real talent.

There is a lesson about life in this, but for the fuck of it, I don’t know what it is. Maybe: keep punching however hard they pound you. At the end of the day, every man is made of flesh, and can, and will, fall.

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