FROM vendor to boxer, from chump to champ, and from bum to born-again.
Is that all?
Not really.
He was also from loser to leader.
At one time after winning a championship belt, he literally threw it away when he led a carefree life and strayed into a waste of undisciplined ways. Drunk with success, he gained weight, wallowing in recklessness until he deteriorated into a complete wreck. He lost his crown even before he could climb a ring to defend it in Thailand. Embarrassingly, he was knocked out, but that was just rubbing insult to injury. He wasn’t champ already even before he could throw his first punch.
But because of his latent talent to knock out foes, he would soon rise from infamy. Under an American coach famed for producing world champions, he shot back to stardom by knocking out an African known for toughness and grit.
He was a mere substitute when he kayoed Lehwaba in the sixth round, catapulting him to the world boxing championship in 2001.
Under Hall of Famer Freddie Roach, he would be reformed, radically, and was reconstructed to become even much better than he used to be. He would collect wins in succession against rivals known to win big bouts. Barrera and Morales: giants in their own right. After facing our own, they were reduced to punching bags and would retire in shame. Likewise, de la Hoya, Hatton, Cotto and Margarito—to name only a few—would suffer the same fate that had befallen Barrera and Morales.
Manny Pacquiao is from nothing to everything—almost.
He became a champ by accident, yes, because he was a mere substitute when he knocked Lehwaba out in 2001. But isn’t life like that? Indeed, life imitates art, if not fiction.
Pacquiao lost in his first crack at politics, losing in his congressional bid in 2007. Like the phoenix, he rose from the ruins and won in his second try, winning in 2010 as representative in the Lone District of Sarangani. Despite a lackluster performance in his rookie year in Congress, he still earned a second term in 2013. That’s how much people love him. And now, despite having attended only four times in 200 sessions in Congress, he still won as senator. That’s how much people love him.
Who are these people that shower him with so much love? The poor—if not the poorest of the poor.
Despite an annual economic growth from 6 percent to 7 percent being boasted by the government all this time, the fruits have never cascaded down to the masses of Filipino people. But Pacquiao always endeavors to bridge the gap, doling out good money to all those who seek his help. His generosity is legend.
Although he is also from Mindanao like Davao City Mayor Duterte, Pacquiao ran under a different party. My counsel is, now that you are senator and Duterte president, you should link up arms with the new chief executive in the name of unity. Forget about partisanship if you truly think and act as a Filipino for 70 percent of our people who continue to be mired in abject poverty 30 years after the Edsa Revolt.
I called you Manny since you turned pro in 1995. I called you Manny when you became world champ in a record eight weight divisions. I called you Manny when you became congressman. I called you Manny when you became a reformed Christian. But now that you have won a Senate seat, will I still call you Manny?
Unless you will correct me, I’ll play it safe: From now on, I will call you Senator Pacquiao.
I still fear your left straight.
THAT’S IT. To those who have forgotten, Sen. Tito Sotto was also a former world champion—in tenpin bowling. Thus, for the record, we now have two world champions in the Senate: Sotto and Pacquiao. Cheers!