Joe Cantada— admired by Filipinos for over three decades, from the 1960s through the early 1990s— still captures the imagination of even casual sports fans like me.
Born March 15, 1942, Jose Cantada left an unforgettable mark on Philippine sports broadcasting. He studied at San Beda and Ateneo, and built a reputation for deep knowledge, thorough research, and remarkable on-the-spot commentary. He rarely used notes. He didn’t need to. He was a natural speaker, the kind who could hold your attention with just his voice.
Joe wasn’t just a broadcaster— he was an athlete too. He played basketball, trained in bodybuilding, and loved boxing. He joined many PBA broadcast panels, where he worked as both a commentator and analyst. In 2005, the league honored him for the excellence he brought to live play-by-play in the 1980s.
His voice stood out most— a deep, clear baritone that commanded attention. He wasn’t just known locally. He went global. Joe was the announcer for the Thrilla in Manila, introducing the legendary fighters in that historic match.
His simple, booming “Introducing…” made crowds wild and made Ali and Frazier seem even more epic.
I like to think it was my dad who gave him the nickname “Smokin’ Joe.” I could be wrong, but I don’t think either of them would mind me saying so. They were close friends, and their bond only deepened after they worked together on Ali–Frazier III. I remember seeing them in conversation often— over bottles of San Miguel, shared food, and cigarette smoke. Whether they were in our family home on Tolentino Street in Quezon City or later in San Francisco, those moments stayed with me.
Boxing has a way of connecting people. My father Hermie Rivera and Joe were proof of that. They formed a strong team, covering important fights featuring champions like Frank Cedeño, Dodie Boy Peñalosa, Rolando Navarrete, and Luisito Espinosa. Their friendship remained solid all the way until Joe’s passing on March 22, 1992.
But his legacy wasn’t only behind the mic.
In 1982, during a visit to Dagupan City— known for bangus and its coastline— Mr. Cantada gave me a Nikon FM SLR camera. He said I should try photography or find a hobby that involved capturing life as it unfolded. That small gesture pushed me to pursue something that’s stayed with me all these years.
Joe also loved music. He had a soft spot for ballads and even recorded an album called ‘Joe Cantada in 12 Rounds’. My sister Charina still has the vinyl copy we got from our parents. He was family to us— he was also my younger brother Gerardo “Andy” Rivera’s godfather.
My father once said: “Joe had a voice made for radio, a physique fit for the movies, and a mustache that changed the face of Philippine sports broadcasting forever.”
Even now, I find myself wondering how Mr. Joe Cantada might have called more recent fights or events.
We’ll never get to hear that. But if he were behind the mic again, one thing’s for sure:
That broadcast booth would surely be Smokin’.