There was a stretch, not too long ago, when Philippine boxing felt like it was merely surviving on memory. When Manny Pacquiao announced his retirement in 2021 to pursue politics, the silence that followed was impossible to ignore. Fights continued. Gyms stayed open. Yet the emotional core of the sport felt hollow.
In 2025, that emptiness finally gave way to movement again. It did not happen through nostalgia alone. It happened through moments that demanded attention and fighters who refused to wait for permission.
Nothing this year carried the same pull as Pacquiao’s return. When he stepped into the ring at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in July to challenge WBC welterweight champion Mario Barrios, it instantly became bigger than the bout itself.
The fistic sensation for General Santos City did not need to dominate to make his point. Brief flashes of rhythm and defiance were enough to force a controversial majority draw and reopen debates Filipinos know by heart. Judging was questioned. Age was scrutinized. Legacy was argued once more.
Win or lose, the message was unmistakable. No boxer still commands the nation’s imagination quite like “Pacman.” Even without a decisive verdict, his presence reminded everyone why his shadow continues to stretch across every Filipino who dreams with gloves on.
That sense of history deepened with the 50th anniversary of the original “Thrilla in Manila.” The commemorative card, titled Thrilla in Manila II, was more than a tribute. It was a reminder to the world that the Philippines is not only a producer of top-caliber pugilists but sacred ground in boxing history.
The action matched the symbolism. Melvin Jerusalem successfully defended his WBC minimumweight title against Siyakholwa Kuse with calm authority. Eumir Marcial endured a punishing battle with Eddy Colmenares that tested resolve more than it showcased highlight potential. Carl Jammes Martin demonstrated his durability by going the distance against former world title challenger Aran Dipaen. Meanwhile, Marlon Tapales authored a sixth-round knockout of Fernando Toro. The night was not about crowning a single hero. It was about showing depth.
Elsewhere, Pedro Taduran quietly became one of the year’s most dependable world champions. He made two successful defenses of his IBF minimumweight crown, each one fought at a relentless pace. Kenneth Llover, meanwhile, ensured his name could no longer be ignored. Four wins in a single year, all by knockout, extended his unbeaten record to 17 and positioned him for a possible world title shot in 2026. These were not ceremonial victories. They were earned under pressure.
Still, 2025 was never going to be a smooth ride. Charly Suarez’s WBO super featherweight title bid in May made that painfully clear. If Pacquiao’s return revived old arguments, Suarez’s encounter against Emanuel Navarrete exposed boxing’s unforgiving nature to a new audience.
Suarez entered as a decorated amateur, finally given his chance on the biggest stage. What followed was one of the year’s most debated contests, marked by questionable officiating and momentum halted by circumstances beyond his control.
The initial ruling, a technical decision loss, felt unjust to many. While the verdict was later changed to a no contest, the lesson remained. Talent alone does not guarantee fairness in this sport.
Then there was Nonito Donaire Jr., who continued to refuse a quiet exit. Early in the year, he captured the interim WBA bantamweight title with a technical decision win over Andres Campos. He once again challenged every assumption tied to age and decline.
Later, his unification attempt against Japan’s Seiya Tsutsumi ended in defeat. No belts were merged. No fairy-tale ending followed. Yet there was clarity in that result. Donaire was not chasing gold for nostalgia. “The Filipino Flash” chased them because he still believed he belonged. There was no shame in that conclusion.
This is why 2025 mattered. It was not a year defined by coronations. It was a year defined by exposure. We saw how legends still shape the sport, how prospects are tested by forces beyond raw ability, and how greatness sometimes ends not with celebration but with acceptance.
Philippine boxing this year reminded us of something uncomfortable yet honest. “The Sweet Science” gives nothing freely. Every victory is negotiated. Every defeat is scrutinized. Every career is shaped by timing as much as talent.
And still, Filipino boxers showed up. They raised their fists. They steadied their heads. They took whatever the year gave them.
That persistence, more than belts or sentimentality, is why boxing continues to stand its ground in this country.
(For comments or questions, reach the author at nissi.icasiano@gmail.com or visit his Facebook page at www.facebook.com/nissi.icasiano.)
