Manny Pacquiao - born again in spirit but can the body deliver?
Filipino is not the same wild man of the past, though he could do with his old killer instinct
The Hollywood strip mall near Sunset and Vine contains a nail salon, a massage parlour, a Thai takeout joint, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting place and, for several hours every afternoon in recent weeks, one of the best fighters on the planet.
Manny Pacquiao trained there for the biggest fight of his life, the most anticipated boxing match the sport has seen in years. It will break records for viewers and dollars, and could go a long way to defining the legacies of Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather Jnr, the brash, undefeated American welterweight who will stand in the opposite corner.
Owing to endless squabbling the megafight has been years in the making. At 36, Pacquiao is an international superstar who has pocketed more than US$330 million in his career and is the most famous person to come from the Philippines, where he's serving his second term in the country's House of Representatives. He's also among very few in the sport who thinks he's actually better positioned to defeat Mayweather, 38, now than he was five years ago.
"Before, I'm always thinking [about] the fight, thinking over and over," Pacquiao said recently. "Now I have peace of mind and relaxing because I know I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I can do all things through God."
Pacquiao was a different fighter five years ago - younger and quicker with two fewer losses - but those around the compact, mild-mannered pugilist note that he's also a different man.
"Manny lived a funny lifestyle," promoter Bob Arum says. "Even though he was very religious, he gambled, he drank, he ran around with women."
At some point not long after a career-defining win over Oscar De La Hoya in 2008, Pacquiao's wife, Jinkee, "threatened to leave", according to Arum's telling. "And suddenly, the next thing I knew, he was a born again. A very serious one."
Today, "he doesn't drink, he doesn't gamble", says trainer Freddie Roach. "I mean, he was real bad at all these things. He doesn't chase girls. His family's happy, his wife's happy, he's a good father."
"The only thing we lost in boxing a little bit is the killer instinct," Roach says. "He doesn't have that like he once did, I feel."
It's true, Pacquiao had once scored a knockout 20 times in a 21-fight stretch, but his past eight wins have all gone 12 rounds. Pacquiao, who has a career record of 57-5-2 with 38 knockouts, has not won a fight by knockout in more than five years, since a 12th-round technical knockout over Miguel Cotto in 2009.
"He feels no need to hurt people. He says he doesn't need to hurt them to beat them. That hurts a little bit to me," says Roach.
Pacquiao was wrapping his hands when his longtime trainer poked his head in.
"How do you feel?" Roach asked. "Good," was the reply.
"I slept like eight or nine hours last night. I was so tired."
Roach explained that an HBO crew wanted to meet him first thing in the morning to film the start of his day.
"They asked me if I eat breakfast. Yeah. They say what do you eat? I say toast and cereal and coffee. So they came to watch me make it. It's f***ing pouring milk into a bowl."
Pacquiao's eyes grew big, and he cocked his head slightly.
"Oh, five bucks," noted Mike Koncz, Pacquiao's top adviser.
"You remember?" Pacquiao asked the trainer, reminding him about their training camp agreement: US$5 for every curse word. "How much?" "Sixty. I'm down US$60 now. Geez, three days."
The two have a close relationship. Roach shies away from characterising the exact dynamics at work, but he helped mould Pacquiao into a champion in eight weight classes, one of the two best fighters of his generation - the other being Mayweather.
In turn, the boxer helped make Roach a six-time winner of the sport's award for trainer of the year. Roach, a former fighter who had Parkinson's disease diagnosed 25 years ago, likes to think of the two as close friends, but many around the camp say Roach is more of a father figure.
Two decades ago, Roach's friends warned him not to open a gym. It'd take too much time, they said, and bring in no money.
"I said you never know when the next Mike Tyson is gonna walk through the doors. And a couple of months after I opened, Manny Pacquiao walks in."
Roach didn't know then who Pacquiao was; the 22-year-old Filipino held the WBC's international super bantamweight belt but had yet to fight in the United States. Pacquiao had never heard of Roach, either, but their paths crossed at the right time.
Pacquiao slipped on gloves and Roach put on his mitts and they started moving around the ring in perfect time. They danced together for one round, and after the buzzer, Roach walked to a cohort and said, "Wow, can this f***ing kid punch?" Pacquiao was at the opposite corner, talking to his manager. "We have a new trainer," he said.
Roach had never seen such a combination of speed and power. But there was something else. When he asked to see some tape, the first fight Pacquiao shared was from several years earlier, in which Pacquiao lost, falling to a body shot in the third.
When Roach asked why Pacquiao would start with the low point of his career, the fighter, still learning English, explained: "It's part of my life. It happened."
"I thought, this guy knows losing is a part of life," Roach said.
It wasn't a big part of the next decade, though. Pacquiao and Roach took on the sport's best, posting wins over Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales, De La Hoya, Ricky Hatton, Cotto and Shane Mosley, among others - everyone except Mayweather.
You never know who will be stopping by.
During his training camp, Pacquiao's visitors included Sylvester Stallone, Mark Wahlberg, Dave Chappelle, Tim Tebow and Robert Duvall. "Tough to beat," Duvall says of Mayweather. "It could be done, though, right? Maybe five years ago, it would've been easier."
"Generally, whenever he fights, the world stops in the Philippines," said Nick Giongco, a reporter for the .
"The crime rate goes down, there's a ceasefire among rebels and government troops. It's not formally announced, but it's an understanding that whenever he fights, there's going to be peace."
He's a member of the conservative United Nationalist Alliance and won his last election in 2013 unopposed. There are some criticisms, however. The legislature there is a year-round body, and few congressmen rack up as many absences as Pacquiao.
"But a lot of his allies are excusing him," Giongco says. "They know what he's doing for the country."
Arum - who's also promoted Muhammad Ali, Julio Cesar Chavez and De La Hoya, among others - said: "Manny is unlike any other fighter that I've ever handled, any other fighter that we've ever seen in the sense that an entire country and an entire people are caught up into his fortunes. My housekeeper here is a Filipina. She'd work for me for nothing because Manny Pacquiao comes over to the house."
Roach travelled to the Philippines a decade ago to help Pacquiao train for a fight in Manila. The gym was in Naval, not far from one of Pacquiao's homes, and the fighter insisted Roach stay with him, in a modest dwelling in which just one room had a bed. The fighter told his American guest to take the bed each night. Pacquiao slept on the floor, alongside a half-dozen or so other members of his camp.
"I tried giving it back to him," Roach said. "I argued with him: 'The fighter needs it.' He says, 'No, I like the floor.'"
Pacquiao's face can be spotted endorsing products all over the country, but he keeps a relatively low profile. Gone are the days he could go for a stroll or visit the public beaches. Even in the United States, he's usually recognised. Seated in Roach's Hollywood gym, he says: "I'm more comfortable here than there."
Less than two weeks before the bout, Pacquiao took a break from training to meet Miriam Coronel-Ferrer, the chair of the Philippines' peace panel who is leading negotiations between the government and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front separatist group.
The fighter publicly endorsed a bill that aims to ease tensions back home before returning to the gym the next day.
Roach knows where Pacquiao's career is headed. Roach is among many people who feel Pacquiao will some day be the president of the Philippines. "Only because he wants to help the people," Roach says.
Pacquiao is near the end of his second term as a congressman. In 2016, he's expected to run for a seat in the Philippine Senate, a more prestigious nationwide post. After completing a six-year term, in 2022 Pacquiao will have passed the nation's age requirement - 40 - to run for president.
But Roach also wonders if Pacquiao is less enthused with politics than before, having spent too much time in meeting rooms and not enough in communities. "I think Manny may be a little bit bored, to be honest with you," he says. "He's not excited about it like he used to be."
Pacquiao is vague about his future. "After I stop my boxing career, the most important thing is I want to let them know there is a God that can raise someone from nothing into something," he says. "That's my purpose now."
Back in the gym, Roach explains to Pacquiao that the trainer's mother is asking about tickets. Entrance into the MGM Grand will be among the most expensive, hard-to-find seats in sports.
"Well, when she wants eight, I gotta find them somewhere," Roach says.
"How much are tickets?" Pacquiao asks. "Cheapest ones?"
"US$1,500."
"The cheapest one?!" Pacquiao asks, apparently not aware that on the secondary market, that seat in the nosebleeds is expected to fetch two or three times more. A single ringside seat could end up costing US$100,000.
Nearly every one of boxing's financial records is expected to fall. The two fighters could ultimately split US$300 million. As many as 3 million homes in the US are expected to fork over nearly US$100 apiece to watch on television. There is a lot on the line.
While Roach says Pacquiao has entered the ring in recent years lacking a "killer instinct", the veteran trainer noticed something in the weeks leading up to the Mayweather bout. "For some reason, I think this fight might be a little different," he says.
But Roach notices the little things: his eagerness to train, his energy in sparring, his optimism and thirst to hear that opening bell. "I don't think he likes this guy," Roach says. "This is the first guy in our career that I think he doesn't like."
Pacquiao says he's in a better place than a few years ago, the antithesis to the cocky foe he'll face on Saturday. Time may not be on his side, but he says everything that really matters is in his corner. "The Lord my God gave me peace of mind," he says. "And gave me confidence to handle my responsibility."