Pride of a Country

As he raced down a road in Mindanao, a southern province of the Philippines, Freddie Roach was concerned. He was riding in the sidecar of a motorcycle, two armed bodyguards trailing in a car behind him.

Suddenly, another car appeared, zoomed in and cut off his cycle.

Much to Roach’s relief, the occupants wanted nothing more than an autograph.

Another time, Roach was photographed with a girl he’d met in a Philippine mall.

The next day, a local tabloid ran a photo spread under the headline, “Roach Falls in Love.”

And just why is Freddie Roach such big news in the Philippines? Simply because he trains Manny Pacquiao.

Anybody connected to Pacquiao, the super-featherweight who’ll fight Hector Velazquez in the co-main event Saturday night at Staples Center, is big news in the Philippines.

And Pacquiao himself?

Said his promoter, Gary Shaw, “Manny is bigger in the Philippines than Elvis was in America.”

Said his manager, Keith Davidson, “Manny is bigger than Muhammad Ali.”

Bigger than the Beatles?

“Bigger.”

Hard to believe? Davidson speaks from experience. He has been with Pacquiao in his homeland. He has seen Pacquiao’s five houses, including his compound in General Santos City.

Davidson has seen Pacquiao arrive at a mall to find shopkeepers shooing out other shoppers so that Pacquiao can shop in peace. He has seen the motorcade, with police escort, that accompanies Pacquiao whenever he leaves one of his homes.

When he fought in an outdoor stadium in Manila, Pacquiao drew about 50,000.

The biggest goal in the last presidential election in the Philippines was not to amass the largest campaign chest or the stage the best-attended political rally. It was Pacquiao’s endorsement.

He held back for a while before finally giving it to Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

And she won.

As thankful as she was, Arroyo was probably more thankful that Pacquiao hadn’t run himself. In a recent national poll in the Philippines, those surveyed were asked who, from a list of politicians plus Pacquiao, did they most trust?

Nearly 80% selected Pacquiao.

“The people over there just love this guy,” Davidson said.

Not bad for a kid who left his parents’ vegetable farm when he was 12 to seek his fortune in General Santos City. At first, there was little hint of the glamorous life ahead. Pacquiao and one of his brothers, Bobby, lived in a cardboard box. Manny wound up selling cigarettes on the street.

Boxing, of course, changed all that. Watching videos of American boxing stars like Joe Frazier and George Foreman, Pacquiao saw a way out of poverty.

Since turning pro at 16, he has won the World Boxing Council flyweight and International Boxing Federation junior featherweight titles and has a record of 39-3-2 with 30 knockouts.

After Pacquiao beat Marco Antonio Barrera in 2003, Arroyo said, “The victory of Pacquiao is a victory of the more than 76 million Filipinos.”

But along with all of Pacquiao’s glory, Davidson has also seen the price of his celebrity. Pacquiao and his wife, Jinky, have two sons, Manny Jr., 5, and Michael Stephen, 4. Living in an area where poverty and terrorism are rampant, a celebrity who earns millions in the ring and is now supplementing that with a career as a movie actor is an obvious target.

So Pacquiao employs bodyguards. Lots of them. And lives in an armed camp. He has five bodyguards at his main house. Some of them accompany his family wherever they go. And he has approximately 50 M-16 rifles.

Pacquiao even has heavy security at a nearby farm, where he trains roosters for his other passion, cockfighting, which is legal in the Philippines. As they walk around the farm, the workers have rifles strapped to their backs.

There is another burden Pacquiao bears for his celebrity.

“Every time I am in the ring, I feel I am fighting for my country,” he said. “That responsibility is on my shoulders.”

Pacquiao also learned that even the most pleasant side of celebrity can have a downside. After watching her husband engage in a hot love scene in his third movie, Jinky suggested, rather forcefully, that he give up his acting career.

Pacquiao took two years off, but is now back in front of the camera.

But, according to Davidson, he is using a body double.