landing in the GQ page

It’s a great article.

GQ, man. GQ.

It’s mostly an account about Pacquiao’s disciples. The Pambansang Kamao is like Jesus. Instead of having twelve apostles, he‘s got like three times more, who are at his beck and call, serving him food, massaging his body, tucking him to sleep. He’s got politicians kissing his ass.

For somebody who has lived under the bridge, the young Pacquiao subsisted on selling doughnuts in the streets. Poverty, going hungry is never a beauty, not so romantic. Manny Pacquiao is very Filipino is so many ways -- the karaoke singing, the esprit de corps, the religious traditions. He represents us to the world and I shouldn’t really read those debates and forums about his pugilistic appeal from a mostly western point of views of meanies and cynics.

For making the author wait in limbo, well, for the rest of us who didn’t have to venture out on our own to make a living in the mean and brutal streets of Manila, GQ may not hold that consequential an appeal. But it means Pacquiao is all humility and that’s one quality, not only an athlete should embrace but every human being.