IN a room buzzing with cameras, microphones, and anticipation, Panya Pradabsri and Carlos Cañizales met for the first time since their last battle — and you could feel it. Thai fighters aren’t ones to create drama before fights; they’re usually soft‑spoken and prefer to remain humble. Today I acted as a translator for CPF and Chatchai during the press conference.
Before we began, because of the champion’s notoriously short answers, Chatchai asked me to elaborate on his responses: “Please try to translate his answers longer, but don’t add drama.” I joked that I was going to flip the script, and he laughed: “When I was fighting, I never did this. I always remained calm,” his way of saying he stayed humble.
Before the face‑off, we did a Q&A with the press, with many journalists and media outlets in attendance. The fight will be broadcast on ESPN Knock Out, ESPN Deportes in Spanish, and ESPN Plus.
Carlos expressed his frustration over their first fight in Bangkok, saying: “In Thailand, I felt like something was taken from me. It was frustrating, but I never lost faith. Now the fight is in my backyard, with my people. Pradabsri won’t just be fighting me — he’ll be fighting against 20,000 souls. At the Poliedro, we will write history.”
The next question came our way for the current champion: since the first fight, what adjustments had he made, and how did he see the rematch playing out — a question that’s become monotonous over the last week.
“I have trained hard, and I am well‑prepared. I’ve spent 12 rounds with Cañizales, I know him well, and we’ve made the right adjustments. I know I am in his hometown, and I need to win clearly, and I will do my best to try to get a knockout.”
The pair then did the face‑off. It was intense — you could see that both men are well‑prepared and ready to fight. Cameras clicked, the room went still, and the tension was real.
As the press conference ended, Panya took time to talk and take photos with fans. One thing I’ve noticed about boxing in Venezuela — similar to Thailand — is that fans aren’t hostile. Everyone was respectful and genuinely interested in meeting the visiting fighter. Passionate boxing fans.
The undercard is also stacked with talent. Female undefeated prospect Treyer Peña goes up against Yohandri Rondón, and in the co‑main event, undefeated Luis Pacheco (16‑0, 16 KO) takes on Alessangel Mayora (17‑1, 14 KO). Two big punchers facing each other — but one has the experience of defeat, and nothing to lose. It’s clear the country is investing in its boxing future.
We made our way back to the hotel for Panya’s final training session before the weigh‑in. At 49.4 kg, he’s well within reach of the limit, so we just kept him moving so he could eat dinner and rest.
As he ran, Chatchai shared a story with me: “In Thailand, when I was younger, fighting Muay Thai, they used to make me not drink water. My mouth and throat would be dry, my lips chapped, and they’d make me sleep in warm clothes. After the weigh‑in, they would put us on drips,” he laughed. “Only in Thailand. Nowadays, things have changed. Boxers are still eating and drinking while making weight. Back in the day — those were crazy times.”
The next morning, before leaving for the weigh‑in, we checked the champion’s weight on the hotel scale: 48.9 kg, just under the 49 kg limit. It was exactly where we wanted him to be. From there, we were ushered off to the National Institute of Sports Personnel Management for the official weigh‑in.
When Panya stepped onto the first scale, it read 49.4 kg — half a kilogram heavier than at the hotel. Cañizales also came in at 49.6 kg. Both teams were surprised, and it was clear something wasn’t right. The undercard fighters who weighed in after showed similar discrepancies. After some discussion with officials and Ricardo Maldonado, Cañizales’ manager, the WBC agreed to recalibrate the scale.
On the recalibrated scale, the champion came in comfortably at 48.9 kg. Cañizales initially weighed in at 49.025 kg — slightly over — but returned within the two‑hour window to make the limit like a true professional.
The ceremonial weigh‑in later that afternoon had all the intensity you’d expect — the cameras, the fans, the final face‑off. As the two fighters stood across from each other for the last time before the bell, you could feel what’s at stake: more than a belt, more than bragging rights.
The night finished with a simple dinner — noodles, chicken, and rice — the closest thing we could find to Thai food. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you can take Thais out of Thailand, but you can’t take Thailand out of them.
For Panya, this fight is about silencing doubts, erasing the asterisk that has hung over his reign, and proving that he belongs in the unforgiving landscape of the 108‑pound division. For Venezuela, it’s about pride, hope, and the belief that their man can bring the title home.
And for everyone watching, it’s about witnessing what happens when two fighters, shaped by different worlds but driven by the same hunger, meet in a place where there is no hiding — only truth.
