Today's the fight between Antonio Margarito v. Shane Mosley. It should be interesting. I'll be rooting for Margarito only because I feel his fight against Miguel Cotto was memorable. I guess I've seen Mosley fight before, but I just can't recall whom he's fought. I figure since Margarito has made somewhat of an impression on me, that's the guy I'm hoping to win. Normally, I'm all for U.S.A. teams, but considering my folks are from Mexico, I'm going to play it safe.
I don't know if the Cotto K.O. was mere luck for Margarito, and I expect he'll lose against Shane Mosley; so, I just soon enough assume I'm siding with the underdog. I don't if Margarito loses. I guess I kind of need a role model "loser" since that word gets thrown around a lot at work. I haven't seen Margarito say or do something in the media that irritates the hell out of me, so I figure "Go Margirito. Lose, you fucker!" It isn't everyday that a loser stands up to a professional boxer like Mosley, but I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself.
What if Margarito beats Mosley? Shit… then VIVA MEXICO! heh. No. I suppose if I'm siding with Margarito, to lose, then, if Shane Mosley loses, I was simply wrong. Wrong for rooting for Margarito (to win), wrong for assuming he'd lose, and wrong for trying to make sense of what I'm trying to say.
I'm a terrible loser. I mean, I'm not a loser, I just lose with poor sportsmanship. But I guess I've thought this through, and I'm prepared to bow my head if my fighter doesn't win by K.O. There's just so many scenarios that can happen. Who really gives a fuck if either side does win if there isn't a knock out? I rather see my team get knocked out, if it means the fight was exciting and unpredictable.
God, how I've changed. I remember a time when I would not watch a boxing match out of humiliation. I missed a lot of fights back then. What suddenly changed my perspective about boxing is time. I've spent so many years hoping and wishing that time would bring back the desire to love, but when an old school friend completely overlooked who it was she was speaking with, my heart turned to ice. I couldn't be the one to say "Do I know you?" because I'd been the one thinking of her all these years and imagining seeing her face in every other person I came across. How could I possibly start asking so many people "Do I know you?" I'd be a walking cliché. Screw that.