Torre Wins by Default After Baste Duterte Vanishes Before Charity Boxing Match ๐ฅ๐ต️ What happens when a cop walks into the ring but a Duterte doesn’t? The boxing gloves were on, the cameras were rolling, and the Rizal Memorial Coliseum was packed with hype—but acting Davao City mayor Baste Duterte never showed up. The main event? A no-fight, no-glory spectacle where Police General Nicolas Torre III was declared the winner by default after a dramatic ten-second countdown. And if you think this was just about charity, think again. This saga feels more like a political soap opera in gloves.
The Rizal Memorial Coliseum was ready for battle. The gloves were laced, the lights were blazing, and the energy was electric. But the main act, hyped as a charity boxing match between Philippine National Police Chief Nicolas Torre III and Davao City acting mayor Sebastian "Baste" Duterte, ended not with a bang, but with a no-show.
Let’s rewind to how this whole circus began. Just last week, Baste Duterte publicly challenged General Torre to a fistfight through a vlog. Yep, a literal YouTube challenge. In a country where politics already feels like theater, we didn’t expect the script to go full-on Fight Club. But Torre, unshaken, accepted. The event—"Boxing for a Cause: Laban Para sa Nasalanta"—was set to raise funds for calamity victims. It wasn’t just a flex; it was supposed to be for something bigger.
But then came the twist.
Baste pulled a reverse UNO card. On Thursday, just days before the match, he added a condition: the fight would only push through if President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. directed all officials, including Torre, to undergo a hair follicle drug test. This wasn’t just about the ring anymore—it became a political move, wrapped in a challenge, smothered in conditions.
Torre didn’t respond to the condition, publicly at least. But he continued to train. By Friday, he was jogging around Camp Crame’s oval. No backing down. No last-minute drama—on his side, at least.
Sunday came. Hundreds gathered. The undercard fights were already happening. The vibe was electric. And then—nothing.
Ten seconds. That’s all the time Baste Duterte had to show up before the match was called. One. Two. Three. The countdown echoed through the coliseum. But Baste never walked in. No robe. No gloves. Not even a prerecorded message. Torre stood alone in the ring, and by default, he was declared the winner.
The aftermath? Messy.
The National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) confirmed that Baste had left the country. According to flight records, he flew to Singapore on Friday morning—two full days before the match. So while Torre was shadowboxing and stretching, Baste was probably shopping or sipping kopi somewhere in Marina Bay.
And the reasons? They keep shifting. In his podcast, Baste said he had “prior commitments” and casually suggested he’d be free on Tuesday or Wednesday. “I cannot be there on Sunday,” he said, adding that Torre should work on his boxing skills in the meantime. Passive-aggressive or just passive? You decide.
Meanwhile, the Duterte camp made moves behind the scenes. Davao Rep. Paolo “Pulong” Duterte asked Torre to sign a waiver absolving Baste of liability if the fight pushed through. What kind of liability were they anticipating? Did they think Torre was about to swing with ICC energy?
Let’s not forget: this isn’t just a personal spat. On March 11, Torre led the arrest of Baste’s father—former President Rodrigo Duterte—on the heels of an ICC warrant for crimes against humanity tied to the drug war. The optics of a Duterte fighting a police chief who led that arrest? Volcanic. Whether this match was ever going to be “just for charity” is up for debate. The tension was deeper. The history, bloodier.
From the surface, it may look like Baste just ghosted a charity match. But underneath, this whole episode reads like political theater staged in boxing shorts. It raises more questions than it answers. Was this a flex gone wrong? A calculated dodge? Or was Baste’s challenge never really meant to lead to a fight?
What’s certain is this: the Filipino public showed up for a spectacle. And what they got was silence and smoke.
Torre, standing in that ring without an opponent, became a symbolic image. A general left waiting by someone who threw the first punch with words but never followed through with fists. In the eyes of many, that silent victory might carry more weight than an actual brawl.
And let’s not forget the victims who were supposed to benefit from this event. The match was supposed to raise money for those affected by calamities. Whether Torre’s solo win managed to salvage that cause is unclear. But the missed opportunity speaks louder than the punches that never landed.
๐ฅ WATCH: https://youtu.be/9GPPEQ-wsGI
So now the ball’s in Baste’s court. Will he show up Tuesday? Will he ever throw a punch? Or was the whole challenge just another political power move disguised as a boxing match? One thing’s for sure: if this was supposed to be a knockout blow, the only one on the mat right now is public trust.
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