Bruce Lee in Boxing Shorts

He wore red, high-cut boots by Nike with the words “PACQUIAO” and “MANNY” etched at the back. His black shorts were printed with yellow flames. A gray sleeveless Nike shirt covered his chest while a green pair of gloves wrapped his hands.

Last Wednesday at 2:30 p.m., accompanied by the country’s top boxing writer—Salven Lagumbay of philboxing.com and the Philippine Daily Inquirer—I stepped inside RP’s most famous gym today, owned by Rex “Wakee” Salud.

Manny Pacquiao had just finished 10 rounds of sparring. Tired? Did he look fatigued? No. How about recharged? Or pumped-up? For one-and-a-half hours, I observed Manny. After sparring, Manny stepped down the ring then proceeded to pummel the double-end bag. He stared at the round leather that hung from the ceiling, encircled it, threw quick jabs, moved his head left, ducked, stepped back, forward.

Baguio or Mexico? I’d listen to Coach Roach

Freddie with Atty. Jingo Quijano

The Phil Jackson of boxing, the three-time Trainer of the Year who’s trained Mike Tyson, Bernard Hopkins, Gerry Peñalosa and actor Mickey Rourke, is “pissed.” They treat me, he says, like “sh*#.”

His nickname, interestingly, is “Choir Boy” and, since he’s done a duet with the Greatest Filipino Sportsman Of All Time, they’ve produced perfect music together. Diaz. Marquez. Barrera. De La Hoya. Morales. Hatton. Name it, the Pacquaio-Roach one-two duet today is like the Phil Jackson-Michael Jordan duo of the 1990s.

MP’s secret is spelled MP

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MP (center) with, from left, Jun Migallen, Girlie Garces, John Pages, Gerry Peñalosa, Michael Aldeguer, Jingo Quijano and Raffy Osumo during the Cebu Sports Awards

Speed. Power. Stamina. Muscle. A 60-day-long training regimen that’s unmatched in boxing. A Hall of Fame coaching wonk named Freddie Roach. These components, plus more, are essential in making our RP hero the boxing world’s No. 1. But, to me, what is the most significant reason why Pacman will knockout Hitman today?

His belief. His conviction. His assuredness. His confidence. You see, while boxing is humankind’s bloodiest entertainment, while one employs two fists to wallop and thump and slaughter one enemy, while boxing is the most physical of all physical endeavors—here’s the untold secret: It’s not about the muscle. It’s about the mind.

Boxing is mental. It’s a face-to-face battle between one brain versus another. It’s a mental warfare to determine who, psychologically, is strongest. And, when we speak of who has a mind that is most determined, most omnipotent, most durable and most resolute, the answer comes in two initials: MP. Mind Power. Manny Pacquiao.

The Furious, The Flash, The King Cobra

If Chris Aldeguer—whose brother is ALA Boxing Promotions President Michael and whose dad is Antonio Lopez Aldeguer—sends you a text message at 11:58 a.m. saying, “(It’s) one of the best fights I’ve ever seen,” then you ought to sit down and watch.

Chris, you see, has witnessed a torrent of fights, both inside their Talamban-based ALA Gym and at the glittering City of Las Vegas—including two of the grandest blockbusters in history: the Floyd Mayweather, Jr. vs. Oscar de la Hoya 2007 tussle and, just last December 6, Manny Pacquiao’s demolition job on the recently-retired ODLH.

Last Sunday morning, as part of his birthday celebration the night before, Chris watched “The Flash and The Furious” at the Araneta Coliseum. With his “best fight I’ve seen” comment, the young Mr. Aldeguer, of course, was referring to the Brian Viloria against Ulises Solis hostility.

What a quarrel! While we all thought Brian Viloria was a “has-been,” a fighter who didn’t possess even 1/14th of Manny Pacquiao’s bravery, what we saw two afternoons ago was startling.

11 points for Pac-Man who scored 11 out of 10

One, we pity David Diaz. My father-in-law, Jack Mendez, one of the toughest men I know who runs Centurion Security Agency and it’s over 1,000-strong force, wiped a tear in his eye when Diaz’s face, lying flat on the floor, all-bloodied with a lump on his left eye, was shown. Because while we cheered for Pac-Man, here was an opponent who grew up poor, whose father was a “no-read, no-write” child, and a boxing champ who could barely afford an SUV because he drove an old-model Honda with no air-con.

Two, as much as we pitied him, Diaz shouldn’t have been on the same ring with Manny. He was one of the worst enemies Pacquiao ever faced. One of the most banga. He was slow-footed, slow-paced, slow-going and just stood at the center, hanging his head like a Wild Card Gym punching bag.