Getting to look slot like Christmas in Newport beach

Thomas M Abercrombie
http://tomabercrombie.posterous.com

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Latinos, Asians more worried about environment than whites, poll finds

By Louis Sahagun, Los Angeles Times

la-me-poll-environment-20101120

California's Latino and Asian voters are significantly more concerned about core environmental issues, including global warming, air pollution and contamination of soil and water, than white voters, according to the latest Los Angeles Times/USC poll.

For example, 50% of Latinos and 46% of Asians who responded to the poll said they personally worry a great deal about global warming, compared with 27% of whites. Two-thirds of Latinos and 51% of Asians polled said they worry a great deal about air pollution, compared with 31% of whites.

Similarly, 85% of Latinos and 79% of Asians said they worry a great or a fair amount about contamination of soil and water by toxic waste, compared with 71% of whites.

The poll surveyed 1,689 adults by telephone. It has a margin of error of plus or minus 2.4 percentage points.

"Latinos and Asians are far more likely to be registered as Democrats than whites, and Democrats hold these views more closely," said Peyton Craighill, who supervised the poll.

Beyond that, their feelings reflect a fact of life in California: "Environmental hazards are a part of the everyday lives of Asian American and Latino voters who are disproportionately represented in locations with high levels of pollution and contaminants," said Jane Junn, a professor of political science at USC and research director of the poll.

"While these results may at first seem surprising, this survey by the L.A. Times and USC College of Letters, Arts & Sciences allowed voters to answer questions in their native languages — Spanish, Mandarin, Cantonese, Tagalog, Vietnamese and Korean," she added. "And a large number of Asian American and Latino voters were interviewed in order to increase the reliability of the findings."

California has one of the nation's largest concentrations of minorities living near hazardous chemical wastes and air pollution produced by refineries, port operations, freeway traffic and railroads. An analysis of census data by researchers at four universities for the United Church of Christ showed that 1.2 million people in the greater Los Angeles area, 91% of them minorities, live less than two miles from facilities handling hazardous materials such as chrome-plating businesses and battery recycling centers.

Latinos make up 37% of the state's population, Asians are 12.5%, whites are 41.5% and African Americans are 5.8%, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. African Americans were included in the survey, but the number of people questioned was too low to analyze reliably.

The survey's findings are no surprise to environmental organizations, including the Sierra Club, the Audubon Society, the Wilderness Society and the California League of Conservation Voters. The groups' own surveys have shown that Latinos and Asians — two of the fastest-growing ethnic groups in the state — share serious concerns about the environment.

These organizations have historically relied mostly on white constituencies for donations and influence in crafting and promoting legislation aimed at protecting the environment and cleaning up pollution.

Now they are aggressively reaching out to ethnically diverse communities to gain financial support and inspire a new generation of environmental stewards. Because these communities are more directly affected by pollution, the strategy makes sense, the groups say.

"We spend the vast majority of our resources in districts that are dominated by, or have substantial, Latino and Asian populations," said David Smallwood, Southern California director of the California League of Conservation Voters. "Their concerns will help us build broader support for aggressively dealing with global warming."

Dan Taylor, director of public policy for California Audubon, agreed.

"The poll's findings are a clear expression of the direct threat environmental carelessness presents to the health of these families and their communities," he said. "If we are going to get anywhere with an environmental or wildlife-focused agenda we have to partner with the Latino leadership in the Legislature, or we're not going to win. It's that simple."

State Assemblyman Tony Mendoza (D-Artesia) suggested that Latinos and Asians are also concerned about environmental issues because "they either came from countries such as Mexico or China where there are serious pollution issues, or they have relatives who did. They don't want neighborhoods in our country to be like the ones they left back home."

Poll respondents who agreed in advance to be interviewed generally supported Mendoza's basic argument.

"It's getting bad out there when it comes to pollution, global warming and clean water," said Elizabeth Olivares, 24, of Stockton. "We are destroying our world little by little. I have a little brother and two nephews and worry about their future."

About 69% of Latino voters and 49% of Asian voters polled said they personally worry a great deal about having enough water to meet future needs, compared with 40% of white voters, the poll found.

Jason Padilla, 26, of Riverside said he was certain that minorities would become increasingly engaged in environmental issues.

"We're stepping up and saying, 'Hey, we live, hike, camp, fish and play here too,' " Padilla said. "We're getting involved to help make changes that are morally and ethically right and benefit everybody."

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5 O.C. office complexes face foreclosure ; do what they do "strategically default" everyones doing it! per this "sohisticated and well healed investor....uhey guys, you overpaid and couldn't pay the mortgage!!

Redstone Plaza: 22.3% vacant/CoStar Group photo

(UPDATE 11/19 9 a.m.: Ownership clarified to reflect PNC Realty Investors’ majority stake in partnership that controlled these properties.)

Five Orange County office complexes — 11 structures in all — owned by a partnership of PNC Realty Investors and Bixby Land Co. bought with great fanfare in the spring of 2007 have fallen on hard times.

PNC/Bixby paid Maguire Properties $345 million for the portfolio in May 2007, buying at the height of an overheated commercial property boom that’s since fizzled. (Click on the photos to enlarge and see details about each property!)

1201 Dove St.

Inwood Park

Bixby Office Park

Newport Summit

Now all five properties — consisting of eight buildings in the John Wayne Airport area and three others just off the 405 freeway in Seal Beach — are in receivership after PNC/Bixby fell behind on its loan payments.

Bixby CEO William R. Halford, whose Orange County real estate company was a minority investor, said in a statement:

“The effect of this economic downturn has been particularly impactful to Orange County office rents and vacancies. Given the combination of declining cash flow and rapid property value deterioration, it’s not surprising that our majority partner PNC Realty Investors – like other investors throughout the industry – elected to strategically default. Although this outcome is disappointing, strategic defaults have become commonplace, even among some of the most well-heeled and sophisticated investors in our industry. Given Bixby Land Company’s minority equity investment in the joint venture, this will have no material impact on our company’s overall health. Our wholly owned portfolio of over 4 million square feet remains conservatively leveraged with occupancy at 95%, and steadily improving year-over-year revenue since 2007.”

The properties are among 11 U.S. office properties recently assigned to San Diego-based receiver Trigild Corp. to manage.

PNC/Bixby “overpaid and couldn’t service the debt,” Jason Hull, Trigild’s head of commercial real estate, said in an email about the distressed portfolio.

According to CoStar Group, vacancy rates at the five properties range from 7.7% to 41.5%. On average, 21.1% of the space in the portfolio is vacant.

PNC/Bixby’s purchase was at the tail end of a series of property flips:

• In February 2006, Blackstone Group paid $39 billion to buy out nearly 600 buildings across the country owned by Sam Zell’s Equity Office Properties Trust, then the largest commercial landlord in the nation. Blackstone soon began selling off the EOP properties in chunks.
• Maguire Properties — now MPG Trust — paid $2.875 billion in February 2007 to Blackstone Group to acquire a portfolio that included some 30 office buildings on 21 sites in Orange County.
• In May 2007, PNC/Bixby agreed to pay nearly $345 million to Maguire to acquire five of the EOP/Blackstone properties: two of them in Newport Beach, two in Irvine and one in Seal Beach, consisting of 11 buildings and nearly 800,000 square feet of space.
• PNC/Bixby closed escrow on the deal in June 2007.
• According to CoStar Group, PNC/Bixby paid nearly $112 million in cash, with an additional $233 million in loans.

At the time of the purchase, Bixby’s Halford said:

“These properties are in prime locations within very attractive submarkets. The portfolio immediately gives us nearly 1 million square feet of high-demand, value-add office space and land in areas restricted from new construction.”

PNC/Bixby isn’t alone. After the commercial market collapsed, Maguire began selling off the properties it still owned, sometimes for as much as half off. In August 2009, Maguire turned over six prime O.C. properties back to lenders because the rent wasn’t covering loan payments.

Trigild says it’s bracing for a “significant increase in its receivership business within the next few months.”

Hull said that Trigild foresees a “wave of distress coming to shore with no end in sight,” projecting that the next year will be as busy as 2010:

“Receiverships are on the increase due to a dramatic increase in the number of  commercial defaults, with no financing to refinance existing … loans. It’s anticipated that several hundred billion dollars worth of commercial real estate throughout the country will be foreclosed on and/or go into receivership within the next few years.”

Things will get worse before they get better, Hull added.

“There is essentially no financing available in the marketplace right now,” he said.

Who’s in trouble: Big O.C. loan defaults: HERE!

Prior stories:

• Maguire to make $2.875 billion deal
• Bixby paying $345 million for 5 O.C. office complexes
• Bixby Land closes on $345 million purchase of six O.C. properties
• Bixby press release
• Maguire to turn over 6 O.C. properties to banks

Posted via email from Newport Beach California 92663

Eco Surf

http://surfshop.wavetribe.com/

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Idioms Using 'Haber'

Like many other common verbs, haber is used to form a variety of idioms. As phrases whose meanings don't depend on the literal meanings of the individual words, idioms can be somewhat challenging to learn. But they are a necessary part of language, and some of them using haber express everyday concepts and are used often.

Following are the most common idioms using haber. For other usages of haber, see lessons on its use as an auxiliary verb and as a translation for "there is" or there are." Also note that the conjugation of haber is highly irregular.

• haber (in the third-person singular) que + infinitive — to be necessary to, to be essential to — Hay que comer. It is necessary to eat. Habrá que salir a las tres. It will be necessary to leave at 3.
• haber de + infinitive — to be to, to be supposed to — Hemos de salir as las tres. We are to leave at 3. He de viajar a Nueva York. I am supposed to go to New York.
• haber de + infinitive — must (in the sense of showing high probability) — Ha de ser inteligente. He must be intelligent. Había de ser las nueve de la noche. It must have been 9 p.m.
• había una vez (or, less frequently, hubo una vez) — Once upon a time ... — Había una vez un granjero que tenía una granja muy grande. Once upon a time there was a farmer with a very large farm.
• no haber tal — to be no such thing — No hay tal cosa como un almuerzo gratis. There's no such thing as a free lunch.
• ¡Qué hubo!, ¡Quihúbole! (regional variation) — Hi! What's happening?
• No hay de qué. — Don't mention it. It's not important. No big deal.
• habérselas con — to have it out with, to quarrel with — Me las había con mi madre. I had it out with my mother.
• ¿Cuánto hay de ... ? — How far is it from ... ? — ¿Cuánto hay de aquí a Londres? How far is it from here to London?
• ¿Qué hay? ¿Qué hay de nuevo? — What's happening? What's new?
• he aquí — here is, here are. — He aquí una lista de nombres. Here is a list of names.
• Heme aquí — Here I am.
• He lo aquí. He lo allí. He los aquí. He los allí. — Here it is. There it is. Here they are. There they are.
• ¡He dicho! — And that's that!

Keep in mind also that many expressions use hay. Although the meaning of many of them can be deduced from the words, they aren't necessarily translated literally. For example, hay sol (literally, "there is sun") is often used for "it is sunny," and ¡eres de lo que no hay! (literally, "you are of that which there are none") can be used for "you're unbelievable!" or something like that.

Posted via email from Newport Beach California 92663

The Life of a Prizefighter

By TED LERNER

Down a narrow, muddy lane that cuts through a poor village near the center of General Santos City in the southern Philippines, former boxer Rolando Navarrete plows through his daily routine. Broke and living alone in a house made of concrete breeze blocks, the former junior lightweight champion of the world—who once was this country's most popular athlete—stands on the dirt floor, shirtless and wearing boxing trunks and rubber slippers, and relentlessly pounds his calloused fists into a taped-up and worn heavy bag.

Mr. Navarrete hasn't fought since retiring in 1991, but for up to seven hours a day he attacks the bag with the purpose of a man much younger, someone who's preparing for an imminent ring war. His hard, crisp punches and toned muscles indicate he could fight tomorrow, but clearly, at 53 years old, Mr. Navarrete is long past his fighting days.

Inside and Outside the Ring

View Slideshow

Read more

• A decent fight, if you like punching
• Daily Fix: Pacquiao Gets Ready for the Ring
• The Count: Packing on the Pounds

 

"I want to prove that I am a good fighter," Mr. Navarrete says in slightly slurred speech when asked why he tortures himself daily. "I want to come back if I have a chance, maybe an exhibition. I want to fulfill my dream of finishing this building. I need to concentrate, to focus." If he can get some money from an exhibition, he says, he can turn his ramshackle home into a boxing gym and boarding house.

Mr. Navarrete is, in many ways, the embodiment of that unfortunate boxing cliché: Kid from gut-bucket poverty punches his way to fame and fortune, only to give it all away and end up destitute again. Today, the former champ walks with a limp, his right eye is cross-eyed and his speech is somewhat unintelligible.

He spent four years in prison—he was convicted of rape in Hawaii in 1984—and lost all his winnings. Yet his fall from near the top of the boxing world is even more jarring when juxtaposed with the fact that another native of General Santos is currently boxing's biggest star.

While Mr. Navarrete squandered his success in every way possible, Manny Pacquiao is riding the heights of sporting superstardom.

Mr. Pacquiao lives in a palatial estate just four kilometers from Mr. Navarrete's home, but his fame now stretches across the globe—an appearance on the U.S. television show Jimmy Kimmel Live earlier this month, in which he and comedian Will Ferrell sang a duet version of "Imagine," is already a YouTube smash, and his fights are a draw for major-league celebrities such as actor Jeremy Piven and hip-hop stars Sean "P. Diddy" Combs and Jay-Z, who referenced the boxer in one of his recent hits.

And while Mr. Navarrete relies on handouts just to survive, Mr. Pacquiao is already one of the highest-earning sportsmen in the world. When he steps into the ring in Dallas this Saturday for a fight with Mexico's Antonio Margarito, he'll collect upwards of $20 million.

Seven hundred kilometers to the north of General Santos, in the mountain city of Baguio, the man who has won seven titles in seven different weight divisions was preparing to win his eighth.

As his trainer Freddie Roach held up two green mitts, Mr. Pacquiao snapped thunderous combinations, all the while darting in and out, moving side to side with lightning quickness.

It is this unique speed and power, coupled with a fearlessness and a willingness to always fight the best possible opponents at various weights, that together have electrified audiences world-wide.

Mr. Pacquiao is currently on a 12-fight winning streak in four different weight classes, battering superstars like Oscar de La Hoya of the U.S., Puerto Rico's Miguel Cotto, Britain's Ricky Hatton, and Mexico's Erik Morales and Juan Manuel Marquez. If a proposed bout with American Floyd Mayweather Jr. comes together in 2011, it is expected to be the richest fight in the history of the sport.

Outside the ring, Mr. Pacquiao's life has been a similar thrill ride. He spent his early years hustling on the streets of General Santos to help his single mother feed the brood, and first became popular as a boxer in the Philippines in the mid 1990s. The young fighter took every opportunity that came his way, from acting in movies and television comedies to appearing in dozens of commercials for everything from fried chicken to dandruff shampoo to karaoke machines. Whether he's making speeches, handing out cash to the poor, or just playing pool and poker into the early hours, Mr. Pacquiao is seemingly everywhere at once.

Along the way, Mr. Pacquiao has amassed a fortune—he was the sixth-highest-earning athlete in the world last year, with earnings of $40 million, according to Sports Illustrated—and he shows a willingness to spend it. He keeps a paid staff of nearly 200 people to attend to his various domestic and business interests, according to his advisers. He has snapped up residential and commercial properties in his hometown, Metro Manila, and other places in the Philippines. This past May, Mr. Pacquiao fulfilled a long-cherished dream and won a seat in the Philippine House of Representatives.

The weeks leading up to Mr. Pacquiao's fights are often marked by questions in the Philippine media about whether all the distractions of his life outside boxing will take their toll. Those closest to Mr. Pacquiao, however, say it's all part of his makeup.

"I think he generates his own chaos," says Michael Koncz, a Canadian who serves as Mr. Pacquiao's closest adviser. "I honestly believe that without some kind of chaos, he can't function properly."

Mr. Roach says that Mr. Pacquiao wasn't as focused as he's been in previous camps, but says, "We have to have some disruption during training camp. It's what makes us tick. He's a multi-tasker and that's his style."

The soft-spoken Mr. Pacquiao insists he can handle his various duties and interests.

"Yes I have more responsibility than I had before," he says. "My life now is more busier than before. Especially with Congress. But I can handle everything because I have good time management."

Mr. Pacquiao has already begun investing part of his earnings in places where he can't touch it just yet, and he's started to trim some of the fat from his team, said his adviser, Mr. Koncz.

"Because of his kindness and generosity," Mr. Koncz says, "there's a lot of wasteful spending because there's a fine line between being generous and kind and people taking advantage of you. Sometimes it's hard to explain to Manny that those people have gone over that line and are now taking advantage of you. He's getting smarter on that, too."

Perhaps Mr. Pacquiao's biggest challenges will come when he finally decides to hang up the gloves, which he has said he will do after three or four more fights.

"If Manny's no longer fighting, the funds are going to be limited," says Nick Giongco, a boxing writer for the Manila Bulletin who has covered Mr. Pacquiao since the early days. "Of course he would dig into his pocket to make sure his people get paid. The question is, Up until when will he do that?"

Then there's the psychological trauma that often afflicts boxers when the cheers are no longer present. "It is tough to live a life after boxing," says Mr. Roach, the trainer. "It's very difficult. I suffered that in a much smaller way. I didn't achieve what he (Pacquiao) did. I've seen world champions, like Sugar Ray Leonard, people don't recognize you as much anymore. It's a little sad and can be tough."

Fans, however, can perhaps take solace in the fact that since the beginning of his career, Mr. Pacquiao has lived and danced on the public high wire and always come out on top.

When asked about Mr. Navarrete, Mr. Pacquiao turns philosophical. "First, Navarrete didn't make that much money in his day," he says. "He fought one defense and he lost." Also, Mr. Pacquiao says, Mr. Navarrete fell in with some bad influences and got distracted by the party lifestyle. "That's what I'm explaining to all the boxers—that when they achieve their dreams they have to balance," he adds. "With great power comes responsibility. You can't have one without the other."

In General Santos, Mr. Navarrete is sitting on an old wooden bench, next to a rickety wooden table in what serves as his living room, as he tells with unflinching candor how he went from the bottom to the top of the world and back to the very bottom. On the wall above where he sits hang some of the last remnants of his glory years—several faded pictures, including one of the 24-year-old champion visiting then-President Ferdinand Marcos.

Like Mr. Pacquiao, Mr. Navarrete grew up dirt-poor on the streets of General Santos. One of 11 children, he turned to boxing at the age of 16 to escape his family's predicament. He was the kind of fun-loving kid who, after a fight, would share a bottle of liquor and cigarettes with friends and fans at a street-corner canteen.

Mr. Navarrete always had a short fuse that would often lead to scraps on the streets. Fans affectionately labeled him, "The Bad Boy of Dadiangas" (the former name of General Santos City). These days, he's also sometimes referred to as "the original Pacquiao."

Mr. Navarrete's star was at its his highest in 1981. He had already progressed through the national and Asian ranks and, that year, he was asked to be a last minute fill-in for a title fight in Italy. Mr. Navarrete took the fight and knocked out Ugandan Cornelius Boza Edwards in five rounds for the world title.

Eight months after winning the title, though, he lost it in just his second fight as champion. "When I won the world title, I felt like a king," Mr. Navarrete says. "I cried because I'm so happy. But when you lose, you feel that nobody loves you."

He continued fighting and chalked up some victories, but his love of the good life soon became his downfall. "I have problems with girls and drinking. But I'm not a trouble maker. I'm a good man," he says.

His wife left soon after he lost the title, and he says a former manager in Hawaii never paid him the $150,000 he was owed from a fight. In 1984 came the rape conviction; he still denies any wrongdoing. In 1998, he nearly died from a stab wound in the neck, which he suffered in an argument over a stolen necklace.

These days, Mr. Navarrete relies on the support of others and a Philippine people that doesn't easily forget its heroes. Every two weeks, he visits city hall and collects $60 from the mayor's office. He attends every small fight card in the area, where some local official who remembers the glory days will slip him a few notes. And every so often he runs into Mr. Pacquiao, who always hands the former champ some cash.

"To ask Manny Pacquiao for money, it's embarrassing," Mr. Navarrete says. He harbors no envy and is happy for Mr. Pacquiao, he says. "Manny Pacquiao is smart. He's a good man. He cares about his money. He's not greedy. He trains hard. He's got a gift from God." Asked what Mr. Pacquiao said to him the last time the two met, Mr. Navarrete says, "He told me, 'Go to church two times a month.'"

As Mr. Pacquiao was preparing to dart off to the U.S. to wow his growing legion of fans once again, Mr. Navarrete headed to General Santos' famous fish port, where young men haul in giant tuna and other fish big and small. Several days a week he comes to the bustling docks, where he borrows money to buy small amounts of fish that he sells on or takes home to eat.

As Mr. Navarrete shuffles through the throng, somebody calls out, "Idol," or "Hey, Champ!" Others turn their heads, smile and crack a joke. A vendor tops off his plastic bag with more free fish.

Despite the lingering bitterness of a life gone awry, and the longing for one last bit of boxing glory that will never come, Mr. Navarrete can still smile. He gets by. His stomach is full. And his countrymen still love him for his legendary ring exploits. "Even though I have a lot of bad luck in my life," he says, "I'm lucky. I'm still alive."

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The Life of a Prizefighter

By TED LERNER Down a narrow, muddy lane that cuts through a poor village near the center of General Santos City in the southern Philippines, former boxer Rolando Navarrete plows through his daily routine. Broke and living alone in a house made of concrete breeze blocks, the former junior lightweight champion of the world—who once was this country's most popular athlete—stands on the dirt floor, shirtless and wearing boxing trunks and rubber slippers, and relentlessly pounds his calloused fists into a taped-up and worn heavy bag. Mr. Navarrete hasn't fought since retiring in 1991, but for up to seven hours a day he attacks the bag with the purpose of a man much younger, someone who's preparing for an imminent ring war. His hard, crisp punches and toned muscles indicate he could fight tomorrow, but clearly, at 53 years old, Mr. Navarrete is long past his fighting days. Inside and Outside the Ring View Slideshow Read more A decent fight, if you like punching Daily Fix: Pacquiao Gets Ready for the Ring The Count: Packing on the Pounds "I want to prove that I am a good fighter," Mr. Navarrete says in slightly slurred speech when asked why he tortures himself daily. "I want to come back if I have a chance, maybe an exhibition. I want to fulfill my dream of finishing this building. I need to concentrate, to focus." If he can get some money from an exhibition, he says, he can turn his ramshackle home into a boxing gym and boarding house. Mr. Navarrete is, in many ways, the embodiment of that unfortunate boxing cliché: Kid from gut-bucket poverty punches his way to fame and fortune, only to give it all away and end up destitute again. Today, the former champ walks with a limp, his right eye is cross-eyed and his speech is somewhat unintelligible. He spent four years in prison—he was convicted of rape in Hawaii in 1984—and lost all his winnings. Yet his fall from near the top of the boxing world is even more jarring when juxtaposed with the fact that another native of General Santos is currently boxing's biggest star. While Mr. Navarrete squandered his success in every way possible, Manny Pacquiao is riding the heights of sporting superstardom. Mr. Pacquiao lives in a palatial estate just four kilometers from Mr. Navarrete's home, but his fame now stretches across the globe—an appearance on the U.S. television show Jimmy Kimmel Live earlier this month, in which he and comedian Will Ferrell sang a duet version of "Imagine," is already a YouTube smash, and his fights are a draw for major-league celebrities such as actor Jeremy Piven and hip-hop stars Sean "P. Diddy" Combs and Jay-Z, who referenced the boxer in one of his recent hits. And while Mr. Navarrete relies on handouts just to survive, Mr. Pacquiao is already one of the highest-earning sportsmen in the world. When he steps into the ring in Dallas this Saturday for a fight with Mexico's Antonio Margarito, he'll collect upwards of $20 million. Seven hundred kilometers to the north of General Santos, in the mountain city of Baguio, the man who has won seven titles in seven different weight divisions was preparing to win his eighth. As his trainer Freddie Roach held up two green mitts, Mr. Pacquiao snapped thunderous combinations, all the while darting in and out, moving side to side with lightning quickness. It is this unique speed and power, coupled with a fearlessness and a willingness to always fight the best possible opponents at various weights, that together have electrified audiences world-wide. Mr. Pacquiao is currently on a 12-fight winning streak in four different weight classes, battering superstars like Oscar de La Hoya of the U.S., Puerto Rico's Miguel Cotto, Britain's Ricky Hatton, and Mexico's Erik Morales and Juan Manuel Marquez. If a proposed bout with American Floyd Mayweather Jr. comes together in 2011, it is expected to be the richest fight in the history of the sport. Outside the ring, Mr. Pacquiao's life has been a similar thrill ride. He spent his early years hustling on the streets of General Santos to help his single mother feed the brood, and first became popular as a boxer in the Philippines in the mid 1990s. The young fighter took every opportunity that came his way, from acting in movies and television comedies to appearing in dozens of commercials for everything from fried chicken to dandruff shampoo to karaoke machines. Whether he's making speeches, handing out cash to the poor, or just playing pool and poker into the early hours, Mr. Pacquiao is seemingly everywhere at once. Along the way, Mr. Pacquiao has amassed a fortune—he was the sixth-highest-earning athlete in the world last year, with earnings of $40 million, according to Sports Illustrated—and he shows a willingness to spend it. He keeps a paid staff of nearly 200 people to attend to his various domestic and business interests, according to his advisers. He has snapped up residential and commercial properties in his hometown, Metro Manila, and other places in the Philippines. This past May, Mr. Pacquiao fulfilled a long-cherished dream and won a seat in the Philippine House of Representatives. The weeks leading up to Mr. Pacquiao's fights are often marked by questions in the Philippine media about whether all the distractions of his life outside boxing will take their toll. Those closest to Mr. Pacquiao, however, say it's all part of his makeup. "I think he generates his own chaos," says Michael Koncz, a Canadian who serves as Mr. Pacquiao's closest adviser. "I honestly believe that without some kind of chaos, he can't function properly." Mr. Roach says that Mr. Pacquiao wasn't as focused as he's been in previous camps, but says, "We have to have some disruption during training camp. It's what makes us tick. He's a multi-tasker and that's his style." The soft-spoken Mr. Pacquiao insists he can handle his various duties and interests. "Yes I have more responsibility than I had before," he says. "My life now is more busier than before. Especially with Congress. But I can handle everything because I have good time management." Mr. Pacquiao has already begun investing part of his earnings in places where he can't touch it just yet, and he's started to trim some of the fat from his team, said his adviser, Mr. Koncz. "Because of his kindness and generosity," Mr. Koncz says, "there's a lot of wasteful spending because there's a fine line between being generous and kind and people taking advantage of you. Sometimes it's hard to explain to Manny that those people have gone over that line and are now taking advantage of you. He's getting smarter on that, too." Perhaps Mr. Pacquiao's biggest challenges will come when he finally decides to hang up the gloves, which he has said he will do after three or four more fights. "If Manny's no longer fighting, the funds are going to be limited," says Nick Giongco, a boxing writer for the Manila Bulletin who has covered Mr. Pacquiao since the early days. "Of course he would dig into his pocket to make sure his people get paid. The question is, Up until when will he do that?" Then there's the psychological trauma that often afflicts boxers when the cheers are no longer present. "It is tough to live a life after boxing," says Mr. Roach, the trainer. "It's very difficult. I suffered that in a much smaller way. I didn't achieve what he (Pacquiao) did. I've seen world champions, like Sugar Ray Leonard, people don't recognize you as much anymore. It's a little sad and can be tough." Fans, however, can perhaps take solace in the fact that since the beginning of his career, Mr. Pacquiao has lived and danced on the public high wire and always come out on top. When asked about Mr. Navarrete, Mr. Pacquiao turns philosophical. "First, Navarrete didn't make that much money in his day," he says. "He fought one defense and he lost." Also, Mr. Pacquiao says, Mr. Navarrete fell in with some bad influences and got distracted by the party lifestyle. "That's what I'm explaining to all the boxers—that when they achieve their dreams they have to balance," he adds. "With great power comes responsibility. You can't have one without the other." In General Santos, Mr. Navarrete is sitting on an old wooden bench, next to a rickety wooden table in what serves as his living room, as he tells with unflinching candor how he went from the bottom to the top of the world and back to the very bottom. On the wall above where he sits hang some of the last remnants of his glory years—several faded pictures, including one of the 24-year-old champion visiting then-President Ferdinand Marcos. Like Mr. Pacquiao, Mr. Navarrete grew up dirt-poor on the streets of General Santos. One of 11 children, he turned to boxing at the age of 16 to escape his family's predicament. He was the kind of fun-loving kid who, after a fight, would share a bottle of liquor and cigarettes with friends and fans at a street-corner canteen. Mr. Navarrete always had a short fuse that would often lead to scraps on the streets. Fans affectionately labeled him, "The Bad Boy of Dadiangas" (the former name of General Santos City). These days, he's also sometimes referred to as "the original Pacquiao." Mr. Navarrete's star was at its his highest in 1981. He had already progressed through the national and Asian ranks and, that year, he was asked to be a last minute fill-in for a title fight in Italy. Mr. Navarrete took the fight and knocked out Ugandan Cornelius Boza Edwards in five rounds for the world title. Eight months after winning the title, though, he lost it in just his second fight as champion. "When I won the world title, I felt like a king," Mr. Navarrete says. "I cried because I'm so happy. But when you lose, you feel that nobody loves you." He continued fighting and chalked up some victories, but his love of the good life soon became his downfall. "I have problems with girls and drinking. But I'm not a trouble maker. I'm a good man," he says. His wife left soon after he lost the title, and he says a former manager in Hawaii never paid him the $150,000 he was owed from a fight. In 1984 came the rape conviction; he still denies any wrongdoing. In 1998, he nearly died from a stab wound in the neck, which he suffered in an argument over a stolen necklace. These days, Mr. Navarrete relies on the support of others and a Philippine people that doesn't easily forget its heroes. Every two weeks, he visits city hall and collects $60 from the mayor's office. He attends every small fight card in the area, where some local official who remembers the glory days will slip him a few notes. And every so often he runs into Mr. Pacquiao, who always hands the former champ some cash. "To ask Manny Pacquiao for money, it's embarrassing," Mr. Navarrete says. He harbors no envy and is happy for Mr. Pacquiao, he says. "Manny Pacquiao is smart. He's a good man. He cares about his money. He's not greedy. He trains hard. He's got a gift from God." Asked what Mr. Pacquiao said to him the last time the two met, Mr. Navarrete says, "He told me, 'Go to church two times a month.'" As Mr. Pacquiao was preparing to dart off to the U.S. to wow his growing legion of fans once again, Mr. Navarrete headed to General Santos' famous fish port, where young men haul in giant tuna and other fish big and small. Several days a week he comes to the bustling docks, where he borrows money to buy small amounts of fish that he sells on or takes home to eat. As Mr. Navarrete shuffles through the throng, somebody calls out, "Idol," or "Hey, Champ!" Others turn their heads, smile and crack a joke. A vendor tops off his plastic bag with more free fish. Despite the lingering bitterness of a life gone awry, and the longing for one last bit of boxing glory that will never come, Mr. Navarrete can still smile. He gets by. His stomach is full. And his countrymen still love him for his legendary ring exploits. "Even though I have a lot of bad luck in my life," he says, "I'm lucky. I'm still alive."

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