What's Next For Boxing Champ Manny Pacquiao?

We haven't done many stories about boxers, but there's good reason to do one now: next Saturday there will be a fight in Dallas featuring a 31-year-old Filipino who is, quite simply, the best boxer in the world today.

His name is Manny Pacquiao and he is generating excitement not seen in the ring since Mike Tyson, Sugar Ray Leonard or Muhammad Ali. Incredibly, Pacquiao, or "Pacman," as he's called, holds world champion titles in seven weight divisions - from 105 pounds to 148. That has never been done before.

And on Saturday, he'll be going for his eighth title. In the Philippines he's an obsession - everybody watches every fight. When he's in the ring, the insurgents call a ceasefire in their running battle with the Philippine army. They're not risking anything, as the soldiers are watching too.

"I've never seen a fighter walk towards the ring smiling. Are you just doing that? Is it a tactic? Or are you really happy?" "60 Minutes" correspondent Bob Simon asked.

"That's me. I'm always smiling," Pacquiao replied, with a big smile on his face.

He is more than a fighter - he is a phenomenon. He is equally brutal with his left and his right, always hammering boxers a lot larger than he is. He ducks and he dances. It doesn't disturb him when he gets hit because retaliation is instant.

After a fight, Pacquiao always goes down on his knees in prayer; that's the closest he ever gets to the canvas.

Asked just how good Pacquiao is, promoter Bob Arum told Simon, "I think that Manny Pacquiao is the best fighter that I have ever seen."

Arum has promoted many of the world's great fighters, including the greatest.

Arum told Simon he promoted 25 fights for Muhammad Ali and that Pacquiao is a greater fighter. "Because Muhammad Ali was essentially a one-handed fighter," Arum explained. "Manny Pacquiao really shocks these fighters because he hits equally hard from the left side and the right side."

Most boxers are born poor, Pacquiao was born hungry. He grew up in the unpaved alleys of a forlorn city called General Santos. His single mother had six children to support. They often missed school to help her sell cigarettes in the streets. But, like many youngsters determined to get out of the slums, Pacquiao would often disappear.

He had a secret: in the beginning, he didn't tell his mom he was boxing. "She doesn't want me to box," he told Simon about the early days of his career.

She wanted him to be a priest; he wanted to play basketball. But basketball didn't bring in bread. Boxing did.

In the beginning, Pacquiao told Simon he made the equivalent of about $2 to box.

"And what are you making now?" Simon asked.

"Millions," Pacquiao replied, laughing.

General Santos churns out a remarkable number of champions, because boxing is the only way for these poor kids to make a little money. But the $2 Pacquiao was earning wasn't feeding his family. So, when he turned 14, he left home to try for more.

Pacquiao stowed away on a boat to Manila and ended up doing odd jobs by day and training in a run-down gym by night. He slept wherever he could, sometimes in the gym, sometimes in the street, but always dreaming of becoming a professional boxer.

But the dream seemed, frankly, preposterous. He had no technique, his punches were wide and wild, and he was too young and skinny to even qualify for a professional fight. So he came up with a plan.

Before his first fight he weighed 98 pounds, but the minimum weight is 105.

"So, I think to put heavy things in my pocket," he told Simon. "Just to meet the 105."

And it worked. "I was 16 years old," Pacquiao recalled.

Pacquiao won that fight, and the little upstart - at 4'11" - kept on winning. Soon he was the world flyweight champion.

The prize money bought him a ticket to Hollywood. He ended up at the Wild Card Gym, perched above a Laundromat and an Alcoholics Anonymous center.

The gym is run by trainer Freddy Roach, a legend in the boxing world who hasn't slowed down even though he suffers from Parkinson's disease. He agreed to do one round with Pacquiao to see if he was worth a second.

"When did you first realize that Manny was more than a really good boxer, that he was going to be champion?" Simon asked.

"You know, that first round really told me something," Roach replied. "Because I never saw somebody with so much explosion on a punch. Bang, bang, bang. Bang, just like a gun firing off. I never saw that in my life. And I've been with a lot of good fighters."

That's an understatement: Roach has been with 28 world champions, including Mike Tyson and superstar Oscar De La Hoya, famous for his left hook, his smarts and his pretty face.

Was Pacquiao ready for him?

Pacquiao's supporters were scared he would be massacred. "There was even a bill introduced in the Philippine legislature to ban the fight, to prevent Manny from leaving the country to participate in the fight because he would be annihilated," promoter Bob Arum remembered.

The bill was defeated.

In the first few rounds, Pacquiao was doing surprisingly well. Maybe it was De La Hoya's strategy - wait a while, then go in for the kill. But it didn't seem to be working out that way.

"Manny Pacquiao is gradually reconfiguring De La Hoya's beautiful face," the announcer commented.

By the ninth round, De La Hoya not only quit the match, he quit boxing.

"I mean, he was such a handsome guy and you turned his face into a nightmare," Simon remarked.

"That's boxing," Pacquiao said, laughing. "You have to understand, I have to understand. It's part of the game. "

And Pacquiao's game mesmerizes the Philippines: tens of millions watch his every fight in halls, in bars, and in the streets. The crime rate plummets to zero: the criminals and the cops take the night off.

"There is nobody in the Philippines, nobody who is not watching Manny Pacquiao fight. And there must be blind Filipinos, and they're listening," Arum joked.

And after every fight, the ecstasy becomes close to uncontrollable. The festivities stream through the streets of Manila, bringing people the sweetest joys in their often impoverished lives.

And when he isn't in the ring, he's everywhere: Pacquiao is an icon, a businessman and a brand. He has his own shopping mall and his own pool hall.

Pacquiao loves playing for high stakes - he had $30,000 riding on a game of pool when "60 Minutes" was filming there.

But his biggest gamble so far was to stand for public office.

Last May he ran for a seat in the Filipino Congress and campaigned as hard as he trains. Policy was not the priority. He began the fight as an underdog, but as he had done so many times before, he murdered his opponent.

"You know, one thing though, if you're serious about politics, don't you think it's about time you stopped getting hit in the head?" Simon asked.

"I already achieve my goals in boxing, my dreams in boxing. And what I want to achieve more is in public service, you know. I wanna be a champion there," Pacquiao replied.

But Pacquiao hasn't quit boxing. Not yet.

Saturday, he'll be fighting former welterweight champion Antonio Margarito before 70,000 spectators at Cowboys Stadium in Dallas. Margarito will be a lot heavier than Pacquiao, five inches taller, and in the best shape of his life.

And Pacquiao? He has been pounding the pavement, pounding the punching bags and doing two hours in the ring without a single break.

But Freddie Roach says, despite appearances, he's not training the way he used to. Pacquiao is distracted, he says, by politics, and could lose the fight.

"I've had anxiety attacks over this. I'm worried about it. I'm walking around at 2:00 in the morning," Roach said. "And something is not right and we are not preparing the way we should for this fight."

Asked if he said this to Pacquiao, Roach said, "Of course."

"You've told Manny that he could lose the fight?" Simon asked.

"If he keeps on the road he's going, yes," Roach replied.

But Pacquiao has been on the road, always moving forward since he stowed away on that ferry to Manila. So now he is a champion and a congressman. What makes anyone think he'll stop there?

"Do you ever think you might one day, you're smiling already, you know what I'm going to ask you," Simon said. "Do you think one day you might be president?"

"It's hard to have a comment right now because it's that far away," Pacquiao replied.

Spoken like a true politician. A boxer as president of a nation of 94 million? Now that would be history. But, then again, Pacquiao thinks he's made history already.

"Who do you think is the greatest boxer ever?" Simon asked.

"Including me?" Pacquiao asked.

"Including you," Simon said.

"Of course me," Pacquiao replied, with a big smile.

Produced by Michael Gavshon and Drew Magratten