They watched his every movement from the moment he stepped out of the black stretch limousine, from the first fast-as-lightning punch he threw into the air as he shadowboxed to his final wave good-bye.
It would be nothing more than a simple workout. Even so, Philippine boxing sensation Manny Pacquiao was there to put on a show.
Like he always does.
Saturday’s fight at the Alamodome was still five days away, but the 100 or so die-hard fans – many of them Filipino-Americans – who lined the sidewalk outside “Jesse” James Leija’s North Side boxing gym Monday didn’t seem to care.
All eyes were fixed on their beloved hero. And not just because of boxing.
Pacquiao, considered by many as the most exciting fighter in the sport today, recently threw his hat in the political ring, too.
He’s running for a seat in the Philippine congress. The election is May 11.
“I want to help my countrymen,” Pacquiao says. “My decision (to run) comes from the heart.”
In a country racked by poverty and in a sport that is rich with rags-to-riches stories, few can compare to Pacquiao’s.
Now 28, Pacquiao slept on a dirt floor until he was 12. By the time he was a teen-ager, he had moved to General Santos City, where he lived in a cardboard box with his brother and sold cigarettes on the street to earn a living.
Boxing provided his way out of poverty. He turned pro at age 16 and has become arguably the best pound-for-pound fighter in the sport – certainly its most exciting.
In the Philippines, his popularity is unparalleled. Some say he is that country’s version of Elvis. Others say he is more popular than that.
Few question Pacquiao’s intentions.
Mike Konacz, one of Pacquiao’s advisers, said it’s not unusual to see Pacquiao give away $1,000 to people in the Philippines who line up outside one of the superstar’s seven homes.
“Not just once in a while,” Konacz said. “It’s every day. The only time I’ve seen him turn someone down was (because) he didn’t have his wallet.”
Marichu Villanueva, news editor of the Philippine Star, one of the country’s largest daily newspapers, said despite Pacquiao’s immense popularity, national sentiment over his candidacy is divided.
“He’s a symbol of hope to millions,” Villanueva said. “But many believe Manny Pacquiao can help more people by sticking to boxing.”
She said while Pacquiao recently received his GED, there is a real fear that Pacquiao lacks the education required to be a lawmaker.
Pacquiao’s opponent, Rep. Darlene Antonino-Custodio, is seeking her third term as representative of the first district of South Cotabato. Her family is part of a Philippine political dynasty that hasn’t lost a race in 20 years. Monday, some of Pacquiao’s ardent supporters expressed similar reservations about Pacquiao’s run for office.
Lyzz Mouton, 32, a native of the Philippines who moved to San Antonio in 1993 after the Mayon volcano erupted, killing 79 people, worries about her country’s notoriously corrupt system and what it might do to Pacquiao. “It says a lot about the political landscape over there if someone like him can run for Congress,” Mouton said. But not everyone agreed. San Antonio resident Nelson Bartlett, 65, a native of Subic Bay in the Philippines, was one of the fans who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Pacquiao and led fans in chants of “Congress-man, Congress-man!” “Manny helps people,” Bartlett said. “He’s exactly what we need over there.”
