rob newbiggin

rob newbiggin

He can hit Manny Pacquiao with pulverizing punches.

She can smash Pacman, and the key part of the name is “man,” with a glittering and stylish purse.

He can talk smack about how he will destroy the Pinoy Idol. He has even sparred with the Mancunian idol Ricky Hatton who, as far as I know, has no plans to become Rochelle Hatton.

She can give Manny a smack, a smooch, with freshly glossed lipstick.

He is Rob Newbiggin, journeyman boxer from the United Kingdom.

She is Melissa, the woman inside the boxer who is about bloom fully with medical treatment to enhance his/her/its estrogen.

They are one and the same.

I’ve found the ultimate opponent for Pacquiao, a foe against whom Manny can make ring history and ring herstory simultaneously.

I think we should call it “Shim Versus Pacman.”

Forget about tennis playing Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs or Sorenstam or any woman golfer trying to outdo the boys on the professional links.

This fight would truly be “The Battle of the Sexes,” with the emphasis and underline on sexes, plural.
I don’t know about you, ahem, guys but the very concept sends a tingle up my skirt. Imagine how stimulating it must be to Professor Dumbledore, Bernie Vee, Arcadia and the other acidic comment posters you read underneath my columns.

Surely, Roberta, I mean promoter Robert Arum would get the appeal of this Mixed Match instantly.

We can subtitle it “Gender Bender” and open up a world of sponsor tie-ins you can’t lure for a man fighting another man.

Obviously, given Rob’s new chosen name, I’d think the Mercedes carmakers would be fascinated and quite eager to open up their purses, I mean pockets.

And how about the inevitable HBO 24/7 program which could tell the tail of Newbiggin.

The baby (boy but confused) was born in Pennsylvania in September of 1964 and was quickly ditched by his South American parents.

The child had high levels of estrogen and, according to him, was “intersexuall and not truly classified as male or female.