I actually crave those carne asada tacos.” His strength and conditioning coach, Rob Garcia, forbids them. “His perfect fruits in the morning are pineapple, guava, strawberry, mango, and banana,” Garcia tells me. “He’ll have that with a little bit of ice. Dinner-wise, he has his choice between Chilean sea bass, lamb, or steak…. It is all organic and antibiotic free.” This contrasts with Pacquiao, who recently invited me to sit in on a game of Chinese poker in a two-bedroom apartment currently sleeping six to ten men of his Filipino entourage. (The number of inhabitants varies each time it is asked.) The winner of the game had the honor of buying everyone dinner from Kentucky Fried Chicken as karaoke blared in the background. In terms of nutrition, such a meal is not so different from the recommended boxer’s breakfast of 1818, as described in the first history of the sport, Pierce Egan’s Boxiana: “beef-steaks or mutton-chops under-done, with stale bread and old beer.” Team Pacquiao’s standard feast is less indulgent, if equally delectable, comprised of beef bone stews, rice, and chicken kabobs. Grilled vegetables are laid out for guests, but not the host. “I do not like them,” Pacquiao tells me.