PACQUAIO : What excuses they'll use when Cotto starches him........

Guys................
I caught the bus down to England's south coast, and looked out over Beachy Head, the infamous, yet strangely beautiful, suicide spot.
All was peaceful.
The sound of the breaking waves some 200 feet below the cliffs was weird, in that I could have easily thrown myself to my death that fresh, sparkling morning and felt at peace with myself.
But, just as I stripped off my flowing gown and my rosary I suddenly thought, 'no, damn it. No way am I gonna dash myself against these rocks and into that raging sea just because I called the result of some daft fight wrong.
No. Manny was great, no doubt about it.
On 'roids? Perhaps. But he beat Cotto, who, along with Paul Williams, I had down as the p4p best fighter in the world today.
And so what?
The morning air smelled good.
And I thought, what the blazes.
There's plenty more posts I can bung on ESB which will infuriate / astound / tantalise / bemuse / humour / irk / before I end my sinful time on this planet.
So for those of you who wished for my immediate demise, I apologise.
I reneged on the deal.
I'm not proud of this because, as Sister Agnes will tell you, I am a woman of her word.
However, on this occasion, I believe that suicide was a little OTT.
To all that I have disappointed by this act of defiance, I apologise.
I beg of your forgiveness, but hope that, all things considered, you will understand that, as I picked up my dew dampened clothes on that cliff face last Monday morning, there are one or two things more important in this world than my hurling myself over the edge of Beachy Head on the back of a bad call in boxing terms.
I hope that you can find it in your hearts to welcome me back into your boxing community.



God bless.