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For years, Manny Pacquiao stayed at flea-bitten L.A. hotel


LOS ANGELES - Before it was razed a year ago, the Vagabond Inn on Hollywood's Vine St. was, in the words of the property's neighbor, "a total piece of (expletive)."

The neighbor in question is boxing's finest trainer, Freddie Roach, and the only reason he ever paid much attention to the establishment, by several accounts a flea-bitten eyesore inhabited by mainly dubious clientele, was because it housed his favorite fighter.

Manny Pacquiao is a nine-figure boxer these days, due to make upwards of $100 million for his much-anticipated showdown with Floyd Mayweather in Las Vegas on May 2.

Yet even after becoming world champion for the second time in 2001 and beginning to make a serious mark in the sport, Pacquiao (now 57-5-2) had precious little money to his name. For years his fight preparation days were spent sleeping and resting at the Vagabond, when he wasn't sparring and hitting the speedbag just steps away at Roach's Wild Card Gym.

Pacquiao's Rise: The Vagabond Inn

"My life was very different then," Pacquiao told Paste BN Sports. "That is where I would stay and it wasn't so bad. I don't need so many things to be happy. It was very close to training."

Now the lot next to the Wildcard is a building site, with a development of high-end apartments due to be erected in the coming months. But its former incarnation as the Vagabond, where rooms would sometimes go for less than $50 a night, is a critical part of the Pacquiao story.

Before he hit the big time, the Filipino press would camp out in Pacquiao's room at the motel and write their stories, then lounge by the pool while he showed off his guitar skills.

Roach, never a man to pull a verbal punch, says he detested the place.

"It was horrible," Roach said. "Just (expletive) horrible. The place was crawling with bugs and it was dirty and disgusting. When I went to see Manny one time I couldn't believe he still stayed there."

A quick look at the Yelp review website shows Roach may not have been exaggerating; the last 16 descriptions of the facility before it closed its doors all received the minimum of one star, with guest tales including stories of bed bugs, crack pipes found between sheets, dirty clothes left by former guests and prostitutes milling the corridors.

Yet Pacquiao kept the inn as his base long after he could have afforded to move out. When he did eventually switch, it was first to a modest rented apartment nearby, then an impressive home in Hancock Park and now a sprawling Beverly Hills mansion.

"A big part of what Manny is about is his humility," said promoter Bob Arum. "You had this young man come over from the Philippines and really he didn't have much concept of the amount of money he was going to make. He just wanted to be a champion. He saw a place that was next to his gym and thought 'that's all I need.' "

Humble as Pacquiao's American beginnings were, they pale in comparison to his upbringing in the Philippines. The region of Sarangani, which Pacquiao now represents as a congressman, is one of the poorest in the country.

Like many children in the area, he left school at 10 and by 14 was fighting in front of small crowds for a few dollars a time.

Money was scarce and meals not always in plentiful supply. When he was young, Pacquiao's father killed the family dog for food, causing the pair to become estranged.

"It doesn't get spoken about much any more but there has been a lot of struggle in Manny's life and that is why his feet are on the ground," Pacquiao's advisor Michael Koncz said. "And that is why he wants to help others. He feels comfortable in familiar surroundings."

Perhaps that is why Pacquiao does nothing to discourage the throng of Filipino fans who regularly turn up outside the gym to catch a glimpse of him or snare an autograph. Or why he used to allow dozens of members of Team Pacquiao to share his sleeping quarters - the bed was reserved for the boxer, everyone else had to claim whatever floor space was available.

Perhaps it is why he eats at the same Thai restaurant, Nat's, a tiny eatery in the same strip mall as the Wildcard, every single day. The wall is plastered with photos of Pacquiao and the most popular item on the menu - Champion Wings - is named in his honor.

Pacquiao's Rise: Nat's Thai Food

"He has been coming since 2002, almost every day," said Nat's employee Kit Kleepkaragate. "We always have food ready for him anyway. We prepare 50-plus meals for Team Pacquiao every day. They give us word when he is coming. And then there is the fan club, waiting outside to see him."

The time-honored boxing notion of prefight isolation isn't part of his game plan. Pacquiao has often spoken of having "a big family" and he is not just talking about his wife Jinkee and their brood of five.

He is both the son of a nation and a standard bearer for American-based Filipinos. He didn't turn the well-wishers away when he was a rising star slumming it at the Vagabond, and he won't turn them away now.

"They have followed my journey," he said, nodding and smiling when it is put to him that the road has been a long one. "Yes," he grinned. "But I am still the same Manny."