Month: November 2010

The odds of winning P650,000,000 in last night’s 6/55 Grand Lotto are one in 29 million. If that sounds near-impossible, consider this: The odds of a Manny Pacquiao living in our midst is one in 6.77 billion. That’s because, of our planet’s entire population, there is only one Manny Pacquiao. There is only one human being—a Pinoy—who is the universe’s “Pound-for-Pound No.1.” This means that—as far-fetched as it sounds—you are more likely to win the 6/55 Grand Lotto than to produce the next Manny Pacquiao. Our Pambansang Kamao is the rarest of finds in our Milky Way Galaxy.

Speaking of money, did you hear that the No.1 individual taxpayer in our nation today is not Lucio Tan. He’s not a Zobel or an Aboitiz or another Manny (Pangilinan) who heads Smart and Meralco and PLDT. He’s the former construction boy from General Santos City who is today’s Congressman from Sarangani. Last April and for the year 2008, Manny Pacquiao paid a whopping P125 million in taxes. He was the BIR’s No.1 pound-for-pound individual taxpayer, handily beating Willie Revillame (P58.6M), Piolo Pascual (P55.8M) and even San Miguel Corporation’s Danding Cojuangco, who contributed a measly P18.98 million.

In his latest fight against Antonio Margarito, the 31-year-old Pacquiao—whose first paycheck as a 16-year-old boxer was a few hundred pesos—earned, for those 36 minutes on the Texas ring, a total of $15,000,000 guaranteed purse plus $5,000,000 because of the 1.15 million Pay-Per-View (PPV) buys in the United States. Based on simple arithmetic, that’s $555,555 per minute. Translated to pesos, that’s P880,000,000 or P24,444,444 per minute.

Of course, Manny doesn’t take home all this money. I’m sure he pays a heavyweight-size tax amount to the IRS of America. The same in our country that’s newly-called (from the previous “RP”)… “PHL.” He pays Freddie Roach possibly a million bucks. There’s Top Rank’s Bob Arum’s share. There’s Alex Ariza, Buboy Fernandez, Atty. Jing Jacal, his two dozen staff who include boys who open the door for him and who wash his laundry. There’s the chartered airplane ride from L.A. to Dallas and back, the congressmen he’s invited to cheer for their classmate and, of course, his lucky charm, Chavit Singson—whose body sticks to Manny like a magnet when the HBO cameras are on. These are expenses. These are expensive.

And so, to be conservative, let’s assume MP takes home half. That’s still $10 million. Though no longer exceeding the lotto prize, that’s still nearly half-a-billion pesos. Is Manny Pacquiao our first Filipino billionaire sportsman? Absolutely. He’s passed that borderline some time ago. How about multi-billionaire? That sounds better.

Consider these numbers compiled by Abac Cordero of The Philippine Star. In his article last November 26 entitled “Pacman’s take: At least $20M – Arum,” here are some figures…

Manny has averaged “double-digit millions” in his last five fights. But prior to that, in his breakthrough fight against Marco Antonio Barrera in 2003, he “only” earned $500,000. Against the other top names like Erik Morales, Juan Manuel Marquez and David Diaz, he averaged between $750,000 to $3 million. That’s more money than 99 percent of our population will ever see. But those numbers are insignificant compared to Manny’s last five fights. Here are his double-digit scores: Oscar de la Hoya: $15,000,000. Ricky Hatton: $13,000,000. Miguel Cotto: $13,000,000. Joshua Clottey: $12,000,000. Antonio Margarito: $20,000,000. From these five contests alone, Manny’s revenue was $73,000,000. Sliced in half, that’s $36.5 million or P1.6 billion. All earned by one man. All in five bouts. All in a short span of 23 months from December 2008 to November 2010. One billion six hundred million pesos.

Imagine if Floyd “Money” Mayweather, Jr. agrees to the mid-2011 Fight Of The New Century? Manny’s money can climb to P3 billion. With all that cash, who needs the 6/55?

If it’s Bob Arum, the answer is Yes. The 78-year-old promoter who’s collaborated with Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler and “The Greatest” himself, Muhammad Ali, said: “I look at Manny as being the best that I’ve ever seen, including Ali. Ali was a great fighter and had great, great attributes and it’s really unfair to compare a big guy like Ali with a little guy like Pacquiao. But when you look at the skill sets, Pacquiao is faster. Now you could say he is a little guy so he should be faster but Ali essentially had just the right hand. His left hand could jab and everything but it wasn’t power punching.”

What differentiates Pacman from the rest? “His left and right hand hit with equal power and that is what destroys his opponents,” said Arum. “They train to fight a left-handed guy and they watch out for his left hand but before they know it, they are getting pummeled by the right hand.”

Arum is correct. But he’s also biased. As MP’s publicist-negotiator-marketer rolled into one, he will trumpet his client’s achievements.

Michael Rosenthal of the “The Ring Blog” (www.ringtv.com) has a more objective analysis. Two days after MP’s victory, Rosenthal penned the article, “Let’s hold off on declaring Pacquiao the best ever.”

Don’t get carried away, Rosenthal explains. Sure, Pacquiao is a first-ballot Hall of Famer but to name him the best-ever? Not so fast…

“Let’s say we anoint Pacquiao the No. 1 fighter ever or place him in the Top 10,” said Rosenthal. “And then he loses a one-sided decision to Mayweather, which is a possibility if they ever meet. What do we say then? Oops?”

Valid point. Though we know Manny will beat Money, it is a worthy argument. “That’s why it might be best to call Pacquiao one of the better of all time and wait until his career is over before assessing him further,” added Rosenthal.

Here’s another opinion-maker: Bill Gallo. This guy’s a legend. At 87 years old, he’s seen more gloves than Mr. Arum. He’s also a legendary writer, having been inducted into the Intl. Boxing Hall of Fame.

“Just who is this guy, Manny Pacquiao?” asked Gallo in his piece, “In thorough beating of Antonio Margarito, Manny Pacquiao cements himself as one of best boxers ever.”

Gallo continues: “He’s every little guy’s hero in this world of bullies, because he has this habit of beating the hell out of bigger guys. That’s who he is…

“This is one hell of a fighter, the likes of which I haven’t seen since Willie Pep and Sugar Ray Robinson. Yes, those two whom I’ve always regarded as the best ever.”

Finally, Gallo concludes by saying, “I’m going to wind this up by asking myself this question: Okay, Mr. Boxing Man, are you telling me this Philippine Dynamo is the best you have ever seen?

“Yes, in a very long time. And he might just be the man who will eventually put boxing back in the upper deck of sports. Believe me, this kid who aspires to be big in Philippine politics, with his perpetual smile and special brand of punching ability, is indeed the goods.”

Next is the excellent critique by Kenneth Ragpala of Filipino Boxing Journal. In “Pacquiao’s spot in boxing’s history: A contemplation,” Ragpala writes, “How history will place Pacquiao in the annals of the sport remains totally subjective. He may be greater than the legendary names who have proven their worth. Or not. Maybe he is the best ever, who knows?  The truth, however, remains untainted. Pacquiao is definitely the best in his era.

“In the words of the highly respected boxing correspondent Scoop Malinowski, ‘it’s impossible to rank the great fighters. Impossible. You just have to pick a whole group and put them all in that utmost echelon.’

The conclusion? No doubt Manny belongs in the “Best Ever” debate. As to his ranking—No. 7? 3? or 1?—only the evaluator can assess. Because as Freddie Roach himself said, “It’s so hard to compare eras. We could argue all night long. Why not leave it at this: Manny Pacquiao is the best of his era.”

And the greatest when he KOs Floyd?

Of boxing’s 17 weight-class divisions, Manny Pacquiao has won eight. What’s next? A clash against Wladimir Klitschko, all of 6-foot-6 and 245 pounds? Maybe that one-foot height advantage and 100-pound weight difference will finally matter!

MP possesses everything. He endures a brutal training regimen. That’s called hard-work. He owns an insatiable appetite for digesting pain—absorbing wooden sticks that flagellate his torso and crunching 10,000 sit-ups. He has focus. Humility. He’s devoted to God, kneeling down for prayer upon climbing the Dallas stage and repeatedly making the sign of the cross as if to pray, “Forgive me, Father, as I punch this—” Bang-bang-bang-bang!

Because if there’s one new quality we’ve learned about Pacman—the world saw it on display last weekend. We know Pacquiao’s killer instinct. His impulse to jump on the half-naked man and paint his white face red. He throws six punches in the wink of his opponent’s brown eyes. He is more offensive than Mike Tyson; scores more points than Kobe Bryant. Yet, for all of this “Mexicutioner” style and how he delights in slaughtering enemies—for all of his lion’s heart—we saw a different heart from Manny. His heart of compassion.

For what would have happened had our Filipino lacerated and slashed the Mexican in the last six minutes? The Tornado would have twisted, curled, warped. His fractured eye socket—which needed immediate surgery—might have led to worse: Brain injury? A mind that will forever be sleeping in a Tijuana hospital bed? A debilitated and paralyzed body? Who knows?

MANNY KNOWS. Because in the midst of the flurry of his punches, Pacman paused. He said, “PRRT! Ref, time out!” In those moments, Manny transformed from boxer to U.N. Goodwill Ambassador. Manny stopped, asked the referee, “Look at his eyes, look at his cuts,” and, in the post-fight press-conference, admitted what boxers rarely, if ever, say, “I didn’t want to hurt him anymore.”

Bobby Nalzaro said it perfectly yesterday: Manny had pity. For MP to have the sense in the middle of war to disarm himself, to hide the bullets, to assess his enemy’s damage, and to grant clemency to Margarito… why, that’s heroic.

It showed us his true character. It showed the world how a Filipino can fight—yet not be cannibalistic. It showed concern and sympathy—words never, ever used in the sweat shops of boxing. It’s called heart. A heart with two faces: that of a fighter and that of a humane person.

Thinking back on the historical magnitude of Manny Pacquiao’s achievement—and our good fortune to have witnessed it—we can’t clap or cheer enough on his first 10 rounds of boxing. His skill. His footwork. His Gen.San-bred granite chin. His power. His speed.

But, to me, the new Pacquiao was defined in those last two rounds. The face of Tony Margarito was brutalized and disfigured—and Manny could have killed him. Yet, he danced away. For Manny is no killer—only his instinct is. What compassion from a Filipino.