Cockfight Cover-Up: Ang and Reyes Sweat the Lie Detector Spotlight

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — July 13, 2025

IN THE Philippines, where roosters duel like gladiators and betting is a sacred vice, the vanishing of 34 cockfighting aficionados—sabungeros—has unearthed a scandal so vile it could choke a volcano. Taal Lake, a bubbling cauldron of secrets, is spitting out charred bones while a cast of oligarchs, rogue cops, and a suspiciously jet-setting judge play a grotesque game of deny-and-deflect. It’s a tale so absurd you’d laugh—if the stench of impunity didn’t make you gag first.

The Whistleblower’s Wild Wager: Truth or a Tombstone?

Julie “Totoy” Patidongan is either a hero or a dead man walking. His claim: the missing sabungeros were strangled, torched, and dumped in Taal Lake for rigging bets in the murky world of e-sabong, the online cockfighting racket banned in 2022 but still crowing underground. His accusations pinpoint Charlie “Atong” Ang as the kingpin and implicate over 20 cops as hired muscle. Then, like a plot twist from a gritty noir, divers fished a sack of burned bones from the lake on July 10, 2025—exactly where Patidongan said they’d be. Coincidence? In a country where justice drowns faster than a lead-weighted corpse, that’s as likely as a rooster winning a Pulitzer.

But Patidongan’s no choirboy. A former accused turned state’s witness, his rap sheet casts a shadow longer than Taal’s crater. His dare for Ang and retired judge Felix Reyes to take a lie detector test is pure circus—because nothing screams “truth” like a polygraph in a nation where loyalty is bought and sold like gamecocks. “Let’s wire up and settle this!” he might as well crow, as if Manila’s elite resolve blood feuds with science instead of silencers.

Ang’s response? A flurry of defamation lawsuits, the oligarch’s favorite shield. His lawyer, Lorna Kapunan, flips the script: Patidongan oversaw the victims, so maybe he’s the one with blood on his spurs. It’s a tired dodge, straight from the playbook of the untouchable.

The Oligarchs’ Masquerade: Crocodile Tears and Clean Passports

Charlie “Atong” Ang, the e-sabong emperor, is the kind of mogul who makes you wonder if capitalism moonlights as a crime syndicate. His platforms, Pitmasters Live and Lucky 8 Starquest, minted millions before President Marcos banned e-sabong for its ties to kidnapping and debt. Accused of orchestrating 34 murders, Ang plays the wounded saint, decrying Patidongan’s claims as “false, baseless, and malicious.” “I’m just a businessman!” he might wail, filing lawsuits while sipping champagne in a bulletproof penthouse. His indignation is performance art, and the ticket price is justice.

Then there’s Felix Reyes, the retired judge and PCSO chairman whose Ombudsman bid is the punchline to a sick joke. Accused of fixing cases for Ang, Reyes waves his travel records like a white flag. “I was abroad!” he insists, as if a clean passport erases backroom deals. “Name the cases I fixed!” he challenges, conveniently forgetting that corruption thrives in whispers, not court filings. The timing of the allegations—coinciding with his anti-corruption job application—prompts a mock-worthy defense: “Nothing screams ‘upright citizen’ like a judge cozying up to cockfighting tycoons!”

Taal Lake’s Toxic Tableau: Bones, Bubbles, and Balderdash

The search in Taal Lake is a grim vaudeville act, with divers dodging volcanic gases to retrieve what might be the sabungeros’ remains. On July 10, 2025, a sack of charred bones surfaced, followed by reports of more underwater sacks. The lake, a sulfuric stew, is a fitting stage for this tragedy—its depths as opaque as the case itself.

Yet the government’s rush to flaunt these “potential remains” before DNA tests reeks of a PR ploy to pacify a furious public. Are these the missing men? Or just another prop in Manila’s theater of distraction?

The Philippine National Police, with 15 officers implicated, is quieter than a graveyard at midnight. If Patidongan’s claim of 20 complicit cops holds, the PNP isn’t a police force—it’s a mafia with badges. “When cops can’t even police themselves,” one victim’s sister told me, “we’re left praying to the lake for answers.” The divers, battling Taal’s toxic currents, aren’t just hunting bones—they’re dredging the rot from a system that’s been underwater for decades.

The Great Philippine Cesspool: Judges, Cops, and Celebrity Cameos

The Supreme Court’s probe into judicial interference is either a flicker of hope or a bureaucratic smokescreen. In a judiciary where verdicts can be bought like market fish, skepticism is the only rational response. Will the probe expose systemic corruption, or will it be another whitewash for the powerful?

The families of the missing, like Cha Lasco, whose brother Ricardo vanished in April 2021, aren’t optimistic. “We just want the truth,” she says, her voice cracked by years of waiting. Cockfighting may be a gritty trade, but no one deserves to be dumped in a lake like yesterday’s garbage.

And then there’s Gretchen Barretto, the actress inexplicably tossed into this mess by Justice Secretary Remulla. Her name is a shiny bauble, dangled to distract a gossip-hungry public. “Why solve murders when you can chase starlets?” the tabloids seem to cackle, as headlines pivot from bones to Botox. It’s the opiate of the masses, keeping eyes off Ang’s bank accounts and Reyes’ rulings.

Recommendations: Draining the Volcanic Swamp

This case demands more than divers and press conferences.

Permanently revoke all e-sabong licenses until a transparent probe clears the industry of criminal ties. The ban, enacted in 2022, is toothless without enforcement.
Invite international forensic experts—perhaps Japan’s lakebed mapping team—to oversee DNA analysis and prevent local tampering. Taal’s depths must not become another Duterte-era “Tokhang” grave.
For the media: Ditch the lie detector sideshow and follow the money. Where did Ang’s e-sabong profits go? Did Reyes’ rulings favor cockfighting barons? These questions cut deeper than Patidongan’s polygraph antics.
For the public: Next time you bet on a rooster, ask if the house’s odds include a one-way trip to the lakebed.

The Human Toll and the Final Flutter

The families of the 34 sabungeros don’t care about Ang’s lawsuits or Reyes’ alibis. They want their loved ones’ bodies, not headlines. “We’re hoping some remains will be recovered,” Cha Lasco says, her hope a fragile thread after four years. Marcos’ call for a “thorough” investigation rings hollow in a nation where promises sink faster than corpses.

In a land where judges and game-fixers blur into one, the only sure bet is that the powerful gamble with lives. The bones in Taal Lake, if they belong to the sabungeros, are a silent indictment: impunity thrives where justice drowns. And the lake’s next bones may stay buried forever.