What did we expect?

Manny Pacquiao is fighting again.

What did we expect? Now millions of people are in denial, saying that Pacquiao deceived them, that he had no intention of truly retiring, that it was all a ruse to get votes for the senatorial race. People are now blaming Pacquiao for their own choice, saying they shouldn’t have voted him, he won’t make a good senator, and so on. That last part remains to be seen, and Pacquiao has time on his side to redeem his dismal congressional record. But for those who voted him into the Upper Chamber, let’s not kid ourselves.

There are two frail beliefs at play here, two beliefs that pull us like marionettes on threads, leading us to act without proof, and commit when we aren’t certain. First, we believe that everyone we hero-worship, who excels in something we can’t do, who displays admirable traits in one field of endeavor, is at the same high level in all things. Einstein was a high school dropout. MacArthur was rendered useless behind a desk without a war to fight. Athletes do not always prove to be great businessmen. Bands disappear when the lead singer leaves, and so on. This is not to say the belief is 100 percent unfounded. But the odds are that, when you spend so much time developing yourself in one area of proficiency, you tend to sacrifice other qualities. Your life is not balanced. It’s the price you pay, your matriculation. That’s where the stereotype of the dumb jock, the nerd, comes from. That’s why several major sporting figures from Ali to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and so many more have been duped by managers and smooth-talking salesmen.

A very large portion of the electorate voted for Manny Pacquiao. A lot of it had to do with name recall. People recognize him more than many other public servants who have toiled in relative anonymity and who are – logic would dictate – more trustworthy and deserving of our votes. Pacquiao though, is a hero, and has inspired tens of millions of us to get back up when life knocks us down, and has inspired not just Filipinos, but the Everyman everywhere in the world. This is where the second fragile faith comes in.

Somehow, in the back of our minds, we seek some way to reward our heroes while they are still around, some humble way we can give back for the priceless gifts of sacrifice, hope and empathy we have felt with them. They have given us so many intangible benefits, things we cannot grasp, and even when we do all the work, we feel the gratitude for that extra drop of courage, that smidge of courage, that burst of energy that helped us cross the line between losers and winners. What can we possibly give them aside from our loyalty or by paying the price of admission? Our vote. Seems like a fair trade, doesn’t it?

Muhammad Ali fought until he was 40. Ray Leonard, Floyd Patterson and dozens of well-known, respected, fearsome world champions all kept fighting until years beyond when they should have stopped. And let’s not even get started with George Foreman, who, in his prime, once fought five opponents in one night. There is no sunset for a boxer, as long as he feels in his bones that he can compete. He becomes deaf to the call of the next chapter of his life, even when it stares him dead in the eye. He is blind to being just that much slower, that much lazier, that much more content. No matter what the rest of the world says, the only voice that matters is the one inside that says he can still put his dukes and fight. In the immortal exhortation of amateur boxer and broadcaster Joe Cantada, “You keep punchin’ now, y’hear?”

To be fair, Pacquiao is still a viable, formidable boxer, but no longer at the level he once was. In Frank Miller’s classic, futuristic tale of a post-midlife crisis Batman in “The Dark Knight Returns, the superhero was almost beaten to death by a younger, bigger, stronger villain. Ultimately he realizes his error and sets his own terms for the return bout, saying: “My mistake was trying to fight like a young man.” Perhaps there is a lesson there for future boxers past their prime, and a growing truth that will help Pacquiao maximize his talent before time erodes it all.

Of course, whether or not Pacquiao intentionally deceived his voters cannot be proven in any iron-clad fashion. He said what he said. That was then. This is now. And the reality is that Pacquiao still has the capability to earn inordinate amounts of money through boxing, to support his family’s lifestyle, fund his projects, send scholars to school, provide medical help to his provincemates, organize sports events, and whatever he sets his mind to. And these are all noble endeavors, mind you. And being a rookie senator, it may take him a while to navigate the political waters. He still has to learn the mutual back-scratching that makes it easier and faster to get funds, the quid pro quo and horsetrading of his new position. So how will he more quickly get the vast sums he needs for all these good things he is bent on doing? By fighting. If we give him the benefit of the doubt, it seems a reasonable exchange for a few weeks of missed Senate work, in this writer’s opinion.

What should concern us more is that, after more than 20 years of putting himself in harm’s way, Pacquiao still decides to do so despite his higher political station. What is disconcerting is that the risk of him getting seriously (or even permanently) injured gets higher and higher. If anything happens to him, he may be kept out of the Senate for a long time. And that is what would plant regret in the minds of those who voted for him, more than a temporary leave to train and fight. For that, he will only have himself to blame. Choosing to fight was entirely his choice, regardless of how good his reason is. As the saying goes, all excuses are equal.

Manny Pacquiao will fight again, and probably at least twice. And what will we do?

We will cheer for him.

What did we expect?