Pacquiao: I’m hungry, I need this fight

MANILA, Philippines - Editor’s Note: Jonathan Carson is in the Philippines through a grant for journalists from the Asia New Zealand Foundation to complete a six-week exchange at the Philippine STAR. He boxes as a hobby, is a big fan of boxing, and one of his dreams was to meet and interview Manny Pacquiao, so STAR Sports editor Lito Tacujan arranged this to make his dream come true. Carson has been a journalist with the Waikato Times, a regional newspaper and website in New Zealand, for three years. He finished his Bachelor of Communications degree majoring in journalism at Massey University and completed a post-graduate diploma in journalism at Waikato Institute of Technology.

As of this writing, Pacquiao was in deep training for his match against Brandon Rios in Macau, which will be held today, Nov. 24, around 9:30 a.m. Manila time and will be broadcast live in the US on the evening of Nov. 23. This piece, written for a New Zealand magazine, gets behind the scenes of training for that crucial match. 

Manny Pacquiao and his long-time trainer Freddie Roach are dancing. They lock eyes and step to a learned rhythm. “One, two, hook,” Roach says to his fighter. “Pah, pah, pah!” Pacquiao exhales, his gloves snapping against Roach’s mitts. He slips a swinging left hand and steps around his partner.

“Good,” Roach says as he directs his ward around the boxing ring. Roach always leading, Pacquiao always following. After more than 12 years together, the pair glides across the canvas with instinctive ease. There is an order to their science, an intimacy to their art.



As of this writing, Pacquiao, 34, is training for his upcoming fight with American-Mexican brawler Brandon Rios in Macau, China, held today, Sunday, Nov. 24 (Manila time).

It is a must-win for the Filipino who’s coming off two losses — a highly controversial points decision against Timothy Bradley in June of 2012, and a shock knockout at the hands of archrival Juan Manuel Marquez last December.

He arrives outside the new Pacman Wild Card Gym in General Santos City in a black Hummer at 1:14 p.m. This is home for Pacquiao. He’s a congressman of his province and his luxury mansion is only a short drive from the gym.

“It’s been a long time since I trained in the Philippines,” Pacquiao says. “My family’s here so it gives more inspiration to me to focus and to do my best in training.”

The three-story building is a shrine to the 10-time, eight-division world champion. Framed photos and paintings hang from the walls like a highlight reel from his illustrious career. A left hook connecting on a bloodied Miguel Cotto. A jab landing on Antonio Margarito’s swollen face. A knocked-out Ricky Hatton lying facedown on the canvas. They’re all here. All reminders. Some critics and fans were quick to write Pacquiao off after he was knocked out cold for about two minutes by a perfectly timed right hand from Marquez. The Manny Pacquiao of old is finished, they bemoaned, seemingly forgetting that he was winning the fight when it ended so suddenly.



“In the last fight, he fought a real smart guy and he got caught trying to end it maybe a little bit too quickly, and Manny understands that’s a part of boxing. That’s why getting knocked out three times in his life doesn’t really bother him,” Roach says. “If he was all done I’d be the first one to tell him. He’s like a son to me and I will take care of him. He’s my priority. I think he has a couple of good years in him.”



The boxing area is off-limits between 1 and 4 p.m. each day for Pacquiao’s training. A small entourage, known as Team Pacquiao, an HBO Boxing film crew and select media are granted access. All eyes are fixed on the ring as fighter and trainer develop a strategy for their next conquest. The plan, it seems, is to create angles using quick footwork, make Rios miss and make him pay. The buzzer for round one goes off and is ignored. Round two, three, four and Pacquiao is still pounding the mitts without rest. He is recovering from a flu and blows his nose, spits mucus and coughs, but his work ethic is relentless.


Pacquiao says he feels like a young man again. It’s as though being knocked from his place at the top of the boxing world was a gift. He has something to prove now, somewhere to go.

“I feel like I’m hungry. I need this fight and I feel like I’m a beginner, you know, longing to become a champion, to become famous — I have a feeling like that,” he says.



Rios says he will retire Pacquiao, but the Filipino won’t say a bad word about his opponent and won’t be drawn into a prediction for the fight. The devout Christian says the outcome is in God’s hands. “For me, I don’t want to say the things that are not done yet,” Pacquiao says. “Because we’ll never know. Only God knows our future, our tomorrow. So I think what he needs to do is get in shape and train hard to make sure he’s 100 percent conditioned and I’m going to do that also.”



Roach is more combative. He has little respect for Rios. “He’s a tough guy, right. I love fighting tough guys because tough guys don’t win boxing matches,” he says. “The more tapes I study on him, the worse he gets. He makes way too many mistakes.” He feels that Pacquiao needs an impressive win in Macau to reignite his career and doesn’t expect the fight to go 12 rounds. “I want (Pacquiao) back where he belongs and I think we have to be very impressive and win this fight. I told Manny that I want him to knock this guy out, but don’t be foolish doing it. I said ‘Let it happen, it will come.’ But Manny’s not the type of guy that will tell you that he’s going to knock somebody out. He’s way too respectful. His compassion has got in the way in a couple of fights and we need to get back to the guy that was knocking guys out. He understands that, he knows what I want.”



Roach leans in closer to share a story that reveals an unspoken understanding between fighter and trainer. A video of Rios mocking Roach’s tremors — a symptom of his Parkinson’s disease — circulated in 2011. When Pacquiao learned he would be fighting Rios, he asked Roach if this was the same guy who had made fun of him on television. “I said yes,” Roach says with a grin. “He just nodded to me, and that’s all I needed to know.”



A crowd has gathered across the road from the gym. Motorcycle taxis with rusty sidecars are parked in a line along the street. Drivers arch their necks to catch a glimpse of Pacquiao through a large third-story window that looks directly into the boxing ring. These are Pacquiao’s people — his fans and constituents. While warming down he waves at the crowd, smiles and gives a thumbs-up. They nudge each other, point and return fire. A friend says that Pacquiao likes the attention. 



After a three-hour training session, Pacquiao retires to a small office on the second floor, sits at a desk surrounded by plates of food and bows his head. He says a silent prayer to give thanks for his meal of rice, soup, chicken, beef and fish before eating alone. He is visibly exhausted; his eyes are heavy, movements slow, voice quiet. He doesn’t much feel like talking but explains why, having achieved everything a boxer could hope to in a lifetime, he still has more to fight for.

“In boxing, I’ve already achieved my goal to become a champion. What I’m trying to do is maintain my name at the top of boxing until I’m going to retire. But retirement, I can say, is not now,” he says. “I think what I have done in boxing, that’s the legacy. Maintaining my name at the top, that’s also a legacy.”