Puertorrican women are a strange breed: most of manage to look well when broke, drive aggressively and most important appreciate boxing. We get giddy when we prepare munchies and make plans to go to someones house to go and see the fight.
Saturday was one of those nights, when Puerto Rico is silent, anxiously waiting to see one of our own, Miguel Cotto, go up in a ring. After a devastating fight to Margarito, Cotto came back with a darker persona, in black trousers ( he used to wear all white and using the slogan the angel has risen), freshly tattooed but most important fearless. We breathed in relieved when on the fifth round Cotto KO' a glorified sparring partner which name I can't remember. Our old boy was back and with thirst of blood.
I met Cotto in Buenos Aires a couple of years back. I was impressed by his quiet, stoic demeanor very common characteristics of military upbringing common in his household. I love his calmness before the ring and that he tries to speak English even when is broken.
Boxing is an excuse for to warm houses and to chill a little bit of our hectic lives.We will continue to embed this tradition into future generations even when some believe boxing is a morbid excuse to see someone shed blood. Nothing beats Mia chanting: Co-tto, Co-tto,Co-tto
