The Fightingcock Magazine

30/08/2021

Anong date ng online derby ang magandang gawan ng horoscope chart ngayong September?
Please comment the date you want. Isang date lang. We will choose the date most commented.
Deadline: 7 Sept.

27/07/2021

Maging effective kaya ang ating c**kfighting horoscope sa online sabong?

17/06/2021

Sana'y magustuhan n'yo ang artikulong ito mula sa Lo-D'yis! magasin (Tomo VI, Blg. 6).

Noong 1996, mayroon akong isang sisiw na nagturo sa akin ng kahalagahan ng Oregano sa kalusugan ng mga manok.
Panahon noon ng tinatawag na El Niño. Mainit sa tag-araw at biglang uulan pagsapit ng buwan ng Hunyo at Hulyo.
Ang sisiw na binabanggit ko ay anak ng isang inahing may lahing labuyo na ipinares ko sa bangkas na tandang na anak naman ng puting inahin at talisaing katyaw. Talisaing Kalumpangin ang lumabas na sisiw. Isinilang siya mga bandang huling linggo ng Abril.
Dahil nga El Niño noon, pagsapit ng Hunyo ay dumating na ang pag-ulan-ulan. Madami akong sisiw na tinamaan ng Coryza. Namamaga at nagluluha ang mga mata, manghihina at mamamatay. Nalipol na halos ang batch na ito ng mga sisiw ko maliban sa sisiw na ito na maliit na ay lulugu-lugo pa. Hindi ko naman siya makatay dahil buto’t balat lang at dadalawang buwang gulang. Pinagala ko na lamang siya sa likod-bahay kung saan nakatulos din ang aking mga tandang. Inisip kong “kung mamamatay ka, mamatay ka; kung mabubuhay, eh di, mabuhay!”
Samantala, sa likod-bahay ding iyon ay may mga tanim akong mga halaman. May ampalayang ligaw, kutchay, luya at oregano. Sabi nga ng mga matatanda, mainam daw ang oregano sa sipon ng mga bata. Pinaiinitang bahagya at pinipiga ang katas, deretso sa bibig ng batang may sipon. Hindi ko alam noon kung totoo nga ito. Gayun pa man, nagtanim ako nito para subukin kung makagagaling sa mga manok kapag sila’y sinipon.
Isang araw, napansin kong parang nasisira ang mga dahon ng oregano ko. Baka ika ko kinain ng mga suso, dahil nag-uumpisa na ngang mag-uulan.
Makalipas ang dalawang araw, halos nangalahati na ang mga dahon ng oregano. Mukhang hindi tama ang lupang pinagtaniman ko.
Isang umaga, habang naghahalo ako ng patuka para sa mga manok, natanaw ko mula sa bintana ng bahay na tinutuka ng sisiw na talisain ang mga dahon ng oregano! Alam yata niyang nakagagaling iyon ng sipon. Hinayaan kong kainin niya ang oregano sa likod-bahay.
Sa sumunod na mga araw, tuloy lang ang pagtuka ng sisiw sa mga dahon at usbong ng oregano. Pati ang mga murang sanga ay pinutol na rin niya! “Hayaan mo na nga,” sabi ko. “Magpapatubo na lang ako ulit ng bago.”
Dumating ang sunud-sunod na ulan at halos bahain ang buong bakuran namin noon. Maputik, malamig, maulan, subali’t may napuna akong kakaiba. Ang sisiw na Talisain ay malaki na pala! Malusog naman siya at nakapagpalit na ng balahibo. Laking gulat ko nang biglang tumilaok pa siya na parang pumipiyok. Hindi ko namalayan na apat na buwan na pala siya. Nang dahil sa oregano ay nalampasan niya ang lamig at mga sakit na dala ng ulan.
Magmula noon, lagi na akong nagtatanim ng oregano para sa mga sisiw, inahin at tandang ko.
Sino’ng makapagsasabing marunong palang gumamit ng halamang gamot ang mga manok? Maniniwala ba kayong umabot nang labing-isang taon ang edad ng sisiw na ito at namatay na lang dahil sa katandaan? Ni hindi siya nagkasakit sapol nang gumaling sa tulong ng oregano.
Sa ngayon, madalas kong sabihin sa mga nagtatanong kung ano ang gamot sa sipon ng manok, “Oregano lang, araw-araw. Siguradong hindi sisipunin ang mga manok n’yo!”

28/05/2021

Starting June, 2021, we'll start posting articles from Lo-D'yis! magasin in this page.
Abangan ...

02/02/2021

Mina Ortega: the Lady Vozz
Volume XVI, Issue No. 1

02/02/2021

We now accept direct orders of at least six (6) available issues shown here for only P480.00.
Delivery is FREE via LBC Express.

13/01/2021

Here is an article from Mr. Ferdie Ducepec of Lucky Strike Gamefarm from his regular column in the Fightingc**k magazine called "Random Thoughts." Enjoy, like, comment, and share.

RANDOM THOUGHTS
By Ferdie “Lucky Strike” Ducepec
Printed in the Fightingc**k magazine (Vol. X, Issue No. 1)

ON CUTTING AND GAMENESS
Many of our top breeders were asked to rank according to their individual preference the qualities of their ideal fighting c**k. Cutting and gameness almost always ranked first and second, while the other qualities lagged behind. When I was interviewed and featured by Mr. Emoy Gorgonia in his TV show “Tukaan” last January, the same question was posted to me. Readily, I ranked cutting as indeed the foremost quality needed by the present-day rooster.
A quality of equal importance which I forgot to mention was “timing.” Aside from having the ability to hit the target objectively, I have always believed that a gamec**k must possess excellent timing to be accurate cutters. Let us remember that the opposing c**k is a moving target and not a fixed silhouette in a target range. This is especially true when your gamec**k meets up with an equally intelligent and evasive fighter that manages to deliver lethal blows even on defensive stances. During this situation, your rooster must be able to time and pick his shots well else he would end up hitting air and exhaust his energy without inflicting damage to the other c**k. Timing is a prerequisite for good cutting but remember that “not all c**ks with good timing possess good cutting, but all good cutting c**ks possess good timing.”
Top breeders also put premium on gameness as this is an intangible factor in many victories inside the pit. Real “game” c**ks always display their will to win by giving everything that they have left even though heavily wounded and on the brink of death. Roosters need not run, sleep nor sulk during the fight to be classified as dunghills or ungame. The human eye may not see it, but there are roosters that when wounded lose their composure and desire to win and would just go through the motion of fighting while waiting to be finished off by their opponents. You may be aware of particular strains of c**ks (usually of Oriental origins) that usually are good cutters but account many of its lost fights due to the lack of gameness.
This however, is not a reason to be discouraged in your breeding or c**king endeavor if ever you have produced or fought such ungame roosters. This happens to even the best bloodlines and among the best breeders. I doubt if there would be any experienced topnotch breeder who would lay claim that he has bot produced or fought any quitter, runner or sulker. I may have witnessed probably the best imported and locally bred fighting c**ks in action from way back the Teresa Square Garden days in the mid-70’s up to the present major derbies in this new millennium. I tell you guys, not one may have been spared from fighting or producing a quitter or sulker within said period.
What matters most therefore is your bloodlines’ consistency with regards to both cutting and gameness. Theoretically, this can be achieved by using proper game basic bloodlines (such as McLean and Blueface Hatch) as your foundation blood and the infusion of proven accurate cutting lines (such as Kelsos, Roundheads and Clarets) from reliable breeders to come up with your complete and ideal fighting c**k.

A BREEDER OR A PROPAGATOR?
I was once asked by a friend to tell the difference between a gamefowl breeder from a propagator. As accurately as possible, I defined a gamefowl propagator as someone who acquires breeding materials (local or imported) with the main objective of increasing the population or number of off-springs out of the original breeding stocks. On the other hand, a gamefowl breeder is someone who also acquires breeding materials with the primary objective of creating a strain of his own while ultimately improving the resultant off-springs as compared to the first generations out of the original breeding stocks.
TO THE COCKING FRATERNITY
For the past months, prank calls were very rampant and culprits’ targets are us breeders/c**kers. I have talked to a number of co-breeders who are victims of these calls. I an not spared of this demonic act done by these lost people whose intention of doing this uncivilized act remains a mystery to me. But what really bothers me is that these Satanly inspired callers use the names of breeders/c**kers in their evil deeds. This is a wake-up call or warning to all my co-breeders and c**kers not to be fooled by such. Aside from their usual style of shouting invectives and bad words at you, these ass holes now pretend and use the names of breeder/c**ker’s in bad faith by leaving crazy messages. Worst, these S.O.B.s may destroy breeders’ reputation and relationship as they are capable of coming up with stories/situations over the phone that would make the innocent call receiver real mad against another breeder.
So, to my fellow c**kers, let not our camaraderie be affected by these Bull Sh—s and instead, find means to eliminate this and them as soon as possible. Please spread this to our friends.

25/12/2020

Here is a rather long article from the Fightingc**k magazine back issue entitled "My Life and Times With Mamie Lacson"
Merry Christmas!! Enjoy.

MY LIFE AND TIMES WITH MAMIE LACSON
written by Jun Jamandores
As Narrated by Raymundo “Boy” Vargas
Printed in the Fightingc**k magazine (Vol. XII, Issue No. 1)

I first met Mamie Lacson in 1976 when he was courting my Tita Nena in Tito Oscar’s house at 6th Street, Bacolod City. I was 11 years old then. I thought that he was a doctor. Mamie was so neat. All white: white shirt, white pants, white shoes. Very clean. They got married in 1977, so now, I call him, Manong Mamie.
At age 13, I took interest in gamefowl. My first fowl came from one of our caretakers in the fishponds in Ilog, Negros Occidental. It was a 3-month old blue stag. I brought it to Bacolod and made him a cage, but the poor thing died when it caught its neck between the bamboo slats. I cried. Imagine. My very first fowl, and this happened! To appease my young mind, my father told me that we will go to Manong Genray (Villanueva) for a broodc**k, and to Manong Mamie for a broodhen. My two uncles were known then in the bigtime circuits in Candelaria, Bacolod and Manila.
At Manong Mamie’s farm, I saw Mr. Richard Bates and Harold Brown (of Red Fox fame) talking. Bates was conditioning Harold Brown’s chickens, then. Manong Mamie was slicing apples and cheese for the c**ks in training. The chickens were from America. When informed of our purpose, he immediately showed me a large pen with about 100 hens in it. I chose 2 straight-combed hens with green or blue legs. Manong Genray, on the other hand, came with a 3-time winner Hulsey c**k. It was a mean manfighter, but I took him, along with the hens to start my gamefowl breeding.
My fowls multiplied fast until my parents told me that I should be on my own with regards my chickens. I saved part of my school allowance just to buy feeds. I didn’t lose interest. I know that these fowls are good because they came from Manong Mamie and Harold Brown.
I became close to Manong Mamie sometime in the 1980s when they established Southern Ventures, an aquaculture business. Manong Mamie specified that I be assigned as Manager since our family already deals with the fishpond business. The group was composed of Genray Villanueva, Junior Villanueva, Lito Lacson and Manong Mamie. Manong Mamie helped me all the way.
One day, Manong Mamie asked me to repair his incubators in Zaragosa, Maao, Negros Occidenral. Since I am an Agriculture graduate, he surmised that I must be knowledge-able about these. I fixed the incubators and explained to him the problems. When we left, he gave me a Grey broodc**k of the Red Richardson line acquired from Oscar Akins. It was a straight cutter, not very flexible, but accurate. I asked Manong Mamie for hens again, to breed with the grey. The hens were of what they called Oca Grey and Harold Brown blend which were reds with dark eyes. These were the pure Hatches at that time. This prompted me to do more breeding. I also joined several 3-c**k derbies. In one derby, some friends who knew how my c**ks fought (simple kicks and a few flies), matched them against bigtime contenders from Kabankalan and La Carlota. They thought that my chickens were dumb. I can just imagine their dismay when all my chickens won in that derby. I used simple training techniques and medications taught to me by Manong Mamie.
Later, I got a Claret broodc**k and a Richard Bates hen from Manong Mamie, plus a Stag Derby winner fought in Manila. I bred them and fought 3 off-springs in a 3-c**k derby. Nine c**ks won in hack fights.
When insurgency caught on in Ilog, I had to move my chickens nearer the city. Manong Mamie gave me 2 trios and 10 hens as my foundation stock. I had no idea then, but these were left nose Blueface broodc**ks. The hens had single marks meaning, they were pure Hatch.
When I transferred to Lipa City in 1986, I brought along these foundation stock. I was able to raise 12 beautiful stags. One of them can fly higher than a man. We called him Kalumpangin. This c**k was very brainy; no multiple shuffles; just one clean blow and you’re dead. If the opponent will fly high, he will go higher. If the opponent is a grounder, he will also remain on the ground. I sold this batch to Reming Hernandez of Ibaan. At first, I wanted to sell only 11 stags, 9 months old, for only P2,500 each. I tried to hide Kalumpangin, but a friend from Pampanga came and saw him. We sparred the stags. Mr. Hernandez ended up buying 12 stags.
At age 10 or 11 months, they were fought. The first 8 won their respective fights. The 9th lost, the 10th won, and the 11th drew. They exhibited simple style of fight - salto. I thought to myself, “Why didn’t Manong Mamie give me the shufflers and hard-hitting lines?” I thought then that multiple shuffling was good. People who saw how the stags fought thought so, too. “Pasalto-salto lang.” Some of the stags won unscratched. These fowls must be very precious by today’s standards. Their style is much sought after now-a-days.
I complained to Manong Mamie, “I need fowl that show multiple shuffle and those which are quick on the draw.” “Don’t worry,” he said. He sent me a 4-year old Marion Rose broodc**k which really showed the fighting style I wanted. However, it also shuffled the air. Since Manong Mamie gave me the rooster, I bred it. He also sent hens with black eyelids. From these fowls, I had lots of winners. One won 9 times, another 7 times. Others were also multiple winners. None lost.
Manong Mamie also gave me a Blueface line. Mr. Boy Luz got 4 male chicks, 4 or 5 months old. One became a 6-time winner, another, 5 times, and two had four wins each. They were simple fighters, but accurate in the air. One hit, and you’re dead.
From all these, Manong Mamie and I got closer. Every time I visited his farm, he’ll offer me chickens. I got at least 25 broodc**ks from him. At most, I paid only for five and the remaining 20 were for free. I was over-whelmed by his chickens. Every month, I called to ask him what he wanted. Be it dogs, (Manong Mamie loved dogs. Pit bull, Dobermann, Labrador, any breed he fancied.) or fish like Tilapia from the lake, or Bangus, I sent them over.
One time in Lipa, he came. We went to Boy Lechon and ordered ½K of Tilapia and a serving of lechon. He didn’t mind the pork. Instead, he ate 6 pieces of Tilapia, and when he saw that half of my Tilapia was left, he ate that, too. He really loved Tilapia. We were more than uncle and nephew. He was a second father to me.
In one of my visits to Bacolod, Manong Mamie, with his family and friends, went to our fishponds to have lunch with me and my mother. He joked a lot. We served Talaba, Sugpo, Bangus and Tilapia. I asked Manong Mamie, “Can I celebrate my birthday at your farm in Mambucal?” He agreed. Mother reminded me that people in the farm will also be waiting for me, but I said, “I’ll have 2 celebrations, then. One in the fishponds, and the other in Mambucal. But Mambucal will come first.”
When June 17, my birthdate, arrive, there were 10 of us in a jeepney off to Mambucal with the shrimps, Tilapia, Bangus, and a whole pig (for Lechon). Manong Mamie welcomed us, and we started roasting the pig. When the pig was about done, I remembered the people waiting for me in the farm. I said, “Let’s divide the Lechon so that we can bring the other half to the workers.” Manong Mamie said, “Leave the Lechon alone.” He took a porcelain plate, stick it into the side of the roasting pig, cut off a crunchy skin bigger than the plate along with the meat, and said, “If I will be given 15 minutes more before I die, what I’ll do is eat a lot of Lechon!” I didn’t know what came over me, but I suddenly felt ill in my stomach when he said that.
At mealtime, I saw a red c**k which has a dark face tethered nearby. I asked Manong Mamie if we could spar the rooster. He said that it was marked left in. By now, I have sort of memorized his marking system that I knew it was pure. When we sparred the rooster, it was super! It shuffled from any angle and in any position. “Will you sell that to me?” I asked. “No,” he said. “There are only 2 of them. Brothers. No line of these has ever been sold,” he explained. I tried to press him for it, but still he would not sell. He said, “Just drop by the house before you leave for Manila.”
On my way to Manila, I went to Manong Mamie’s house in Bacolod. He pointed to a box and said, “There. In the box...” When I looked in the box, there was the red left in c**k! My idol rooster! My tears rolled. I ask Manong Mamie, “How much?” “None,” he replied. He told me to breed it and just give him some offsprings in return. He wanted me also to condition them and fight them. Thus, I named the c**k “Super Deal.” Of all the broodc**ks I had from Manong Mamie, this is the only one on which he made a deal with me. I felt very honored. Once in Lipa, I sparred the c**k, but he seemed a bit “off” by then. After 2 months, his superb qualities came back, and he sparred as expected. I was able to produce 32 heads out of this rooster. More on this later.
4 or 5 years before he died, after strings of championships in stag derbies and the International, Manong Mamie’s fame started to decline. At his peak, famous people in Bacolod and Negros visited him. There are days when at least 10 people will pass by his house for a chat. He was really famous, then. But when his derby wins went down, the people also started disappearing. Maybe it was God-sent. Manong Mamie narrated, “During my peak of fame, you can’t make me utter a little prayer. God must be reminding me that fame is fleeting.” Down but not out, Manong Mamie, instead of defying the will of God, humbled himself and surrendered to the Lord. He joined Couples for Christ and served during mass at the Church of Our Queen of Peace in Bacolod City. He was also encouraging me to join in, because the whole clan has renewed their spiritual well-being. I resisted at first, claiming that I am not that religious. But soon, I also submitted myself to God, and joined the Neo Catechetical Way, here in Lipa. This made Manong Mamie very glad.
What touched me in my close association with Manong Mamie happened when he died. Aptly, I suppose, it was on a Good Friday. At 10 in the evening, my cousin, Mark Vargas, called from Bacolod to tell me that Manong Mamie died. “Don’t fool me with this kind of joke,” I said angrily. “It’s true,” said the other end. I asked, “Where?” “Inside the Church of the Queen of Peace. He was praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament in preparation for the communion, when he succumbed to a heart attack.” All I can do was weep.
All my life, I have not seen a death so grand and beautiful. Manong Mamie was born on December 25, Christmas day. That’s why he was named Emmanuel. He died on a Good Friday, the same day that Jesus Christ died. And in front of the Blessed Sacrament, at that! Nobody, not even the Pope or priests can duplicate this. Fame might have left Manong Mamie, but not the Lord. God gave back this fame in a very wonderful manner, by honoring him with the time of his death!
On the day of his burial, the church was full of rich people. During the mass, all of a sudden, a truck-load of people arrived. They were in tattered clothes, some were disabled. You can see that they are poor. They must be the ones Manong Mamie really helped during his lifetime. They all went to the coffin, looked at Manong Mamie, and cried. I can only imagine how happy Manong Mamie must have been at that moment.
From then on, I saw what happiness God has given Manong Mamie. I can’t explain the kind of joy I felt for him. He reminded me of his life’s lessons and purpose even with his fowls.
With regards the Left In broodc**k he gave me, he explicitly said that no line of this should be sold or leave my hands. He wanted me to condition and fight Super Deal’s offsprings. I conditioned 2 stags, about 10 months old each, and fought them against 2-year old opponents in a hackfight. They both won. One was unscratched, and the other was wounded. I thought that my “deal” with Manong Mamie was no longer in force since he has already died. I sold the remaining 30 stags to Col. Prieto and to Sta. Rita Cockpit owner, Tetek Villena. They conditioned the fowls and fought them. They lost a lot. All were hit, either on the head or the neck. One was almost a sure winner when suddenly, it got hit on the neck! Col. Prieto and my friend, Tetek, lost 24 fights in all. I got worried. I asked myself, “Why?”
Then, it dawned on me. Super Deal! I flew at once to Bacolod and went straight to Manong Mamie’s grave and apologized. “I’m sorry, Manong Mamie,” I said to him. “I broke my promise. Please, forgive me.” Just then, my cellphone rang and my friend Tetek informed me that they are going to fight 6 of the remaining stags. After a few days, he told me that the stags all won.
I wonder. Can a dead person help his roosters win in the pit? Is Manong Mamie’s soul still guiding me? It will be a great joy for me, if he does. If only I can bring back the years when he was still with us. I know now that he really loved me.
In one of his interviews, he said, “Someday, you will find out how precious your chickens are.” He continued, “I have already reached my goals as a gamefowl breeder. And that, for me, defies ecstasy.”
I wish that someday, I will also be able to say the same.

30/11/2020

Training gamec**ks is a controversial topic among c**kers. Each has his own system and procedures, that no one can claim to be the best even after several wins. “TRAINING THE GAMECOCK: A Beginner’s Manual” is a good attempt at presenting various insights on the training/conditioning of gamec**ks without necessarily endorsing any one specific regimen.

Training the Gamec**k

05/11/2020

DECEPTION IS THE NAME OF THE GAME
By Jun Jamandores
Printed in the Fightingc**k magazine (Vol. XII, Issue No. 6)

Chickens are ground dwellers, not birds of the sky. They are not predators; they are the prey. As such, chickens should be masters of deception. They must always be alert and must possess keen senses. The rooster, specifically, must display courage and vigor to dissuade attackers.
Roosters are territorial. However, they can’t mark their territories the way other animals do. The [rooster's] crow is one particular means by which the rooster manifests his presence. This either drives away other roosters or invite others to stake a claim. Towards other roosters, he must show aggressiveness to intimidate would-be assailants. Whenever his territory is invaded, a rooster always shows a brave front.
Meanwhile, deception is legal in c**kpits. We’re talking about “ulutan” or matching gamec**ks by sight. A gamec**k’s body can be stroked and held in such a way that he will appear thin or small. In the matching area, some c**kers press on the back of their fighters to make them appear short or low stationed. Never will you find a match maker (nag-uulot) take his hands off his c**k. Once let loose, the c**k’s body and stance will show and alert the prospective opponent. But, as mentioned, this type of deception is legal, especially in hackfights.
Some breeders do their brand of deception in the breeding pens. Some intentionally make their fowls look ugly. Since most c**kers want small heads, long flowing hackles and tail feathers, some breeders choose to breed gamefowls that have bigger heads, short hackles and tail feathers. The true worth of their fowls is in their powerful blows, fighting tactics and accurate cutting. The breeder avers that it is not the head, nor the hackles not the tail feathers which the rooster uses to hit the opponent. If the gamec**k wins, let there be no discussion of its appearance. What’s important is his performance.
Deception takes another form when selling gamec**ks is concerned. Appearance is the number one deceptive tool. We often equate shiny feathers with proper care of the fowl, but feathers can always be shampooed and cod liver oil capsules can also do the trick. Next, c**ks can have the same feather and leg color but these does not mean that they have the same fighting skills. Some sellers use breed names or gamefarm names to deceive buyers. Even if the gamec**k is called a specific breed or farm name, it does not necessarily mean that it came from the same source or even possess the same fighting prowess. Lastly, most c**ks for sale are [either] in tip-top shape or even injected with stimulants. Thus, during sparring sessions, they will exhibit superb shuffles and lightning speed. But a day after you let go of your hard-earned money, you spar the same c**k and it couldn’t hurt a flea.
Take heed! Let our gamec**ks be our model in this competitive sport we are in. Be alert and attentive, and even suspicious. Because in c**kfighting, deception is the name of the game!

22/10/2020

Here is an article from a back issue of the Fightingc**k magazine:

WHAT WE REALLY KNOW AND DON’T
By Jun Jamandores
Printed in the Fightingc**k magazine (Vol. XI, Issue No. 1)

In every competition, knowing your opponent is an added advantage to those who can analyze them well. In boxing, it will be worth knowing that Mike Tyson has a thundering left hook or Hollyfield is a slugger. It will be very important for their opponents to time their fancy footwork and when to duck and move away. In basketball, nobody wanted to meet the Bulls when Jordan was around. This guy was unstoppable, then. In almost every Olympics, the coaches try their very best to study their athletes’ prospective opponents. When they meet, the battle is already half won. Unfortunately, we don’t have this in c**kfighting. Whatever you say about any particular fight, there are things we don’t and can never know when two c**ks face each other in the pit.
Cockfghting is admittedly a very fascinating sport and hobby. A c**ker must learn a lot of things before really clinching a derby championship or even win his first hack fight. After the flurry of shuffles and the final two pecks, win or lose, the c**ker goes home with the roar of the Kristos still ringing in his ear and the pounding of his breast continuously pumping adrenalin into his loins. And he is back to square one. A win will mean celebrations with his c**king buddies and a hundred different versions of how magnificent his rooster was, complete with graphic how’s and why’s the rooster won. On the other hand, losing the fight raises superstitions back from the graves; the gaffer is blamed; breeding is cursed; and training reviewed over and over at the back of the c**ker’s mind; asking the question: “Where did I go wrong?”
A serious c**ker will always view a win with a smile reaching from ear to ear and take it as a challenge to do better and learn more. Losing is but a temporary setback subject to multiple scrutiny and more things to learn. If only we knew our opponents!
In every match, we don’t exactly know the kind of opponent we will meet. We don’t know the c**k’s bloodline. We can’t rely on what the breeder or owner of the entry would say. We don’t even know the owner or breeder of the adversary. By reputation, maybe, but we don’t have to believe. He is the opponent in the first place! In derbies, we will know whose entry it is opposite ours, but that is too late. Switching chickens to substitute one’s line-up means that we must have had lots of roosters to train and condition.
We also don’t know how his particular c**k was raised. We always suppose that only well-bred, well-conditioned and well-fed gamec**ks are selected for derbies, but are we that sure? Bloodline and rearing also affect fighting style and endurance. We don’t know the opponents fighting style, even! Yes, we can deduce to some extent, the way a c**k will fight based on his body conformation. But in c**kfighting and in any battle for that matter, deception is the name of the game! If you can, try to spy on your opponent during limber and base your change of c**k on what you see. Hopefully, your opponent has the same dilemma.
Because derbies are matched by weight alone, we are not sure who will be our opponent a few hours before the fight. And even if we knew the breed and owner of the entry, we don’t know, not even the owner, how the rooster will fight! We don’t know what the c**k will do during the battle.
After the c**ks are released, we no longer have a hand. Only the sentencer can handle the c**ks. We don’t know if he’ll favor our entry or not. Assuming that the sentencer is fair and honest, still, we are not allowed to touch the gamec**ks during the fight except when the knife gets hanged and the sentencer asks for our assistance. Let’s face it. Cockers are at the mercy of the sentencer in our kind of c**kfighting.
What can we do, then? What really do we know?
First, we can only talk about our rooster. We know his bloodline or strain and how he grew up if he is of our own breeding. We know the record of his parents and siblings. We know whether the rooster got sick when still young and how he was treated during his adolescent years (months, that is). Most of all, from sparring sessions during the keep, we know how he fights. We know how he was trained and what bad habits he might show. We know whether he has the stamina for a long drag, his one-two punch, his finishing, his usual performance. However, when fight day comes, we can’t really tell how our rooster will fight! We expect him to display the kind of battle he exhibited during spars, but the c**kpit is another place, another time, another environment. Most specially, another opponent c**k. Who knows what goes on inside a gamec**k’s mind. We can’t really tell. We don’t really know!
The only thing for sure is that we have done our best to train our gamec**ks, and hope that luck is on our side come our day in the pit.