A week in Manila with Manny Pacquiao: senator, boxer ... and future president?

SENATOR MANNY PACQUIAO is sitting in the second row of a black government Escalade, his left foot on the center console, a 9 mm handgun in the seatback in front of him. A security van hugging the back bumper is filled with Pacquiao's assistants and several members of the National Police, their fingers on the triggers of the M16s that lie across their laps. There are two police motorcycles in front, weaving around Manila traffic, their cartoonish horns burping out pleas for space that doesn't exist. Outside the windows, the alleys and side streets clog with people and motorbikes and bicycles. The city closes around us like a fist.

The Senate session has recessed for Christmas, and the holiday traffic has turned a 10-minute drive on Manila's main highway, the EDSA, into an hour. Pacquiao looks out the window at the endless scroll of tired faces peering down from dirty buses and up from tiny cars on this eternally congested beltway. They have no idea the country's most famous man is behind the darkened windows and chirping motorcycles. It's his 41st birthday, and preparations for tonight's massive and lavish party -- an annual exercise in opulence, idolatry and patronage -- have been in the works for weeks.

Pacquiao's birthday is only half-jokingly considered an unofficial national holiday. During the past week, I have seen him be serenaded with "Happy Birthday" an infinite number of times in a near-infinite number of places: a sporting goods store in a high-end Manila mall, his Senate office, the Senate floor, his home. Home is where this line of cars is eventually headed, where two makeup artists and two hairdressers are setting up shop. Three laundry-sized bags of boxing gloves sit in the entry, waiting for his signature. Ten cases of red wine are about to be hauled into the living room for the after-party.

Pacquiao's phone is ringing continually in the car, and each time the theme from "The Godfather" fills the sealed cabin. After a few notes, it's clear he's not going to answer the calls or stop the music. The song ends, then starts again. Each time, he looks at the phone to check the caller and places it back in his lap. The music continues, and by the time it becomes clear the Godfather theme is going to take this ride with us, Pacquiao's assistant, David Sisson, motions for me to begin asking questions. I have been waiting for the music to stop, or for the phone to be answered; Pacquiao, apparently, has been waiting for me.

I have come here to spend a week observing Pacquiao as a political entity and to see firsthand how his alliance with Philippines president Rodrigo Duterte has turned him into a front-runner to succeed Duterte when the country elects a new president in 2022. Mostly, I am here to see firsthand how the most popular man in the Philippines became one of the most powerful athletes in the world.

https://www.espn.com/boxing/story/_/id/28774040/a-week-manila-manny-pacquiao-senator-boxer-future-president