"From Pillar to Post" - Nonito Donaire: The Champion Next Door

By Ryan Songalia
Photo © Emily Harney/Fightwireimages.com

Ever since a man named Manny Pacquiao drubbed Marco Antonio Barrera in San Antonio during the Fall of 2003, the island nation of the Philippines has been a focal point for talent scouts trying to uncover the next PacMan.

And so the search was on, with the importing of Reynaldo Bautista, AJ Banal, among others, with the hopes of securing the next Filipino breakout star who could create the kind of buzz that would translate into box office blockbusters.

Across the Pacific Ocean, in the San Francisco suburb of San Leandro, a 23-year-old General Santos City native named Nonito Donaire carried on about his career, devoid of the attention dripping off of some of his Filipino kababayan.

Donaire had lost in the 2000 Olympic qualifiers to fellow Fil-Am fighter Brian Viloria, separating himself momentarily from the adulation that accompanies international amateur success. To add to that, Donaire isn’t exactly a Pacquiao replica, having cultivated an Americanized, in-and-out style that some posters on the PacLand message board derided as resembling a “ballet dancer.”

But “The Filipino Flash” fought on, competing at higher weights and often on short notice, before getting his chance to stake his claim as a pugilist. “It was a moment when I wanted to prove to everybody that I was a world champion-caliber fighter,” says Donaire of his fight with then-IBF Flywwight champion Vic Darchinyan. “I wanted to win.”

Donaire was familiar with Darchinyan; His older brother, Glenn, had fought him last year. In that bout, Glenn pulled out of the contest after complaining of a broken jaw, a move that drew the reprise of many Filipino fans. Darchinyan also had a reputation as a thorn in the side of Filipino fighters, having also beaten the respected Diosdado Gabi. In many ways, Donaire had a lot of unfinished business before the fight had even begun.

“Going in there, I was already focused on getting the title," says Donaire, now 18-1 (11 KO). As the days went on, it got more emotional. Ever since the press conference for [G. Donaire-Darchinyan], he was saying he’d beat my brother and I at the same time. My brother told him ‘Don’t go there because my brother would toy with you.’ When I woke up [the day of the fight], I didn’t have no appetite. All I wanted to do was beat up Darchinyan.”

The emotional toll of the impending bout had a profound effect on Flash. Instead of letting his feelings get the better of him, he turned his fire into fuel.

“This is the first time I went in the ring angry. Going to the ring, I had that feeling inside of me that no matter what, I’m going to give it to him. If he catches me with something, I’m going to get up and still try to beat him up. All I could think about was hitting Darchinyan, and pounding him as much as I can.”

And that he did. From the opening bell, it was abundantly clear that Donaire had Darchinyan’s number. Donaire outclassed “The Raging Bull”, an Armenian-born Australian, winning every round up until the fateful punch that ended the bout. Donaire ended the fight with a counter left hook that landed as Darchinyan wound up for what appeared to be an inverted bolo punch. Darchinyan was out before he hit the canvas.

“I could see all of his punches.,” Donaire said of Darchinyan. “He wasn’t as strong as I thought he would be. He didn’t hurt me that much.”

And there he stood, an unlikely champion, atleast in the eyes of his detractors. During the post-fight interview on Showtime, Donaire, present with his family waving his Filipino flag, appealed for the approval of his native country, while barely avoiding the I-told-you-so’s he could easily have exercised.

“They didn’t really support me,” Donaire said of his country, although he added, “I’m not dishing it out because they never seen me fight much. I’ve always worn my Filipino flag ever since I was little and was proud of who I am.”

The modesty he exhibited was in line with the attitude that Manny Pacquiao has been beloved for. That trait, instilled in him as a young amateur, is what may ultimately carry him to international success.

“What really humbled me was when I won the Silver Gloves. My head got big and I got into this fight with this dude when I was in high school. I could’ve beat him so bad, but for some reason I held back. I guess it was because I was the one who started it up. I got punched in the face and I said ‘man, I’m getting in trouble and I never get in trouble.’ Ever since then, I started being humble. Appreciate [yourself], and people will appreciate you.”

As he tamed the bully in Darchinyan, he exhibited a suppressed fire that burns in him, a fury that unveils itself inside the ropes. “When I’m outside of the ring, I don’t get in trouble. When I’m confronted, I know what I can do so I just walk away. I just bring all of the rage and viciousness inside of me when I’m inside the ring.”

“I guess I don’t know what to say about that,” Donaire said, as his thoughts trailed off into something he didn’t quite know how to verbalize.

As we continued our conversation, Donaire revealed a vulnerability, one that reaches far into his early childhood. “I was a quiet person,” Donaire says of his upbringing. “I was always afraid of everybody. I was a wuss about everything. I was afraid of fighting.”

“He never liked fighting,” says Nonito Donaire Sr., who trains both of his sons. “He was just a friendly kid when he was little.”

Donaire Sr. continues, “When I brought [Nonito Jr.] into the boxing gym at 11, my intention wasn’t for him to fight. I wanted to keep him away from the Filipino gangs. I brought him into karate because he said he didn’t like boxing, especially after he saw me fight and he saw blood. He was afraid of blood.”

Although the Donaire household consisted of two young fighters, the Donaire brothers didn’t get violent with each other. Well, they did once. “One time, I didn’t know they were playing around. Glenn ducked down and Nonito hit him in the face. Glenn got mad and threw the glove somewhere and it almost hit me. So I took my belt out and hit him on the butt.”

Though he is an American citizen, Donaire stands to capitalize on his success, particularly being part of a culture that is thriving in boxing. However, Donaire’s ethnicity is not a publicity product of convenience. He wasn’t “The Bay Area Bomber” last week, only to hop on the Pinoy bandwagon as Pacquiao’s popularity overtook American audiences.

“For me, all I want to prove is that I’m not just riding Pacquiao’s coat tails. This is what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was younger, when people would say Filipinos couldn’t crack an egg. I look up to him and respect him so much.”

One Fil-Am fighter whose heritage seemed at times to be “convenient” was the pugilist formerly known as “The Hawaiian Punch,” Brian Viloria. “He got his 15 minutes of fame. He could’ve been something more if he really tried harder.”

The hot topic in boxing rivalries today is the Filipino-Mexican rivalry. Donaire dismisses the credibility of the affair, calling it “a great commercial tactic.”

There’s nothing to it,” Donaire says, “it’s just to sell tickets. I have a lot of Mexican friends who respect me a lot. They’re always like ‘Campeon Mundos!’ It’s always great to have something like that. I’ve always looked up to a lot of Mexican fighters. They fight hard with a warrior’s mentality. I have a lot of respect for that. Some people are very competitive though, and disrespectful.”

Donaire was not the only Filipino to win a world title that day. Hours earlier, in Indonesia, Florente Condes defeated Muhammad Rachman to win the IBF Minimumweight title. “My older brother told me that Condes won, make it two for two for the Philippines. I was happy, but I was focused on my fight. I would love to congratulate him.

Rumors have circulated about a possible unification bout between Donaire and long-time WBC Flyweight titlist Pongsaklek Wongjongkam. Flash takes it in stride. “I want to be the first Filipino champ to say that I’m undisputed. To me, fighting the best gives me more hunger.” Donaire offered that the decision is up to his manager Cameron Duncan and promoter Gary Shaw.

One fight that seems to still be in Donaire’s agenda is a rematch with the man who made him an overnight star.

“The other day I took a nap. I had a dream of knocking out Darchinyan again, only with another punch. I think that I still have that grudge towards him. I still have that anger. I’m not the type to back out of a fight.”

Not letting success go to his head, Donaire opts to observe those same principles he learned in a high school fight. “It just feels like I won a regular fight. I’m not out there saying, ‘I’m world champion.’ I think people are happier than I am for myself. The only time it kicks in is when I think about it. I love that ‘normal’ feeling. I know a lot of that is going to change in the near future. This is what I worked for all of my life.”

Donaire isn’t the prototypical world champion. Absent are late night romps with R&B artists and neighborhood by-lines detailing DUI busts. Instead, he enjoys quality time with his family. A self-described “nerd,” Nonito still lives at home with his parents, where he plays Counter-Strike and checks his e-mail. “I’m pretty much just a regular kid from the United States.”

Donaire also plans to use his success to further his brother Glenn’s career as well. “I told him that when I get paid more, I want him to quit his job to be a full-time fighter. He can’t train as much as he can. I know he has what he has to become world champion. I’m the one he spars with and he has a heavy hand.”

Whether Donaire is here to stay or just another “Flash” in the pan remains to be seen. One thing is for sure: Nonito is one tough nerd.

Any questions or comments? Send them to me at mc_rson@yahoo.com