Pacquiao, Bruce Lee score TKOs vs. Asian American male stereotype

Manny Pacquio, left, and his hero Bruce Lee.

THERE'S A SCENE in the documentary I Am Bruce Lee, in which Manny Pacquiao expresses his idolization of Bruce Lee. As a fighter, albeit different styles, Pacquio says he tries to emulate Bruce Lee's lightning quickness and power-packed strikes. He admires Lee so much, he even had his (earlier) haircut modeled after the late martial artist.

A 2012 New York Times article further reinforced the link between Lee and Pacquiao:

(Pacquio was asked) to explain the way he fights, he settled on three words. 

“Like Bruce Lee,” he said 

Growing up in the Philippines, Pacquiao studied Lee, watching his movies on endless loops. He still often views his collector’s set. “Enter the Dragon” is his favorite. His conditioning coach, Alex Ariza, says he believes Pacquiao built his baseline movement off Lee’s template, the continual attacking, the feet drummed in and out.

“Bruce Lee jumped around and kicked his feet and shook his head and shoulders,” Ariza said. “His feet moved in concert with his hands. He could be choppy, but he was rhythmic. Manny does the same thing. It comes from that.”

In a more personal and perhaps more significant way, Pacquiao is carrying on the legacy of Bruce Lee: he is punching to the wayside the stereotype of Asian American males as meek, weak, unassertive, emasculated and invisible nonentities.

Asian American males grew up with that stereotype thrust upon us by television, movies and popular culture, Lee's emergence as a sleek fighting machine who didn't take insults or taunts from anybody was a revelation and a turning point for the denigrating image many had to endure.

In a world without strong Asian male role models, Lee's emergence was a godsend and a revelation. Suddenly, there was this charismatic, strong symbol, whom the girls swooned over and who could stand his ground and - if need be - beat up bigger opponents or rivals.

Geddes Watanabe as Long Duk Dong

With Asian American male portrayals so rare, the impact of the few that do exist is magnified in America's consciousness.

Lee's breakthrough role as Kato in the TV series Green Hornet, changed the world for Asian American boys growing up with the embarassing and demeaning images of buck-toothed, bespectacled Mickey Rooney in yellow face in Breakfast at Tiffany's. As we entered our teen years or as young adults, we were haunted by the one of the worst portrayals of Asian men: Long Duk Dong in the iconic Sixteen Candles. 

High-kicking Bruce Lee countered those images. His popularity opened the door for a spate of chop-socky films which inspired  kung-fu studios sprouting in the suburbs, all of which, in turn, gave rise to a new stereotype ... but at least a stereotype who could kick ass.

What Lee did for the baby-boomer Asian Americans, Pacquiao is doing for a new generation of Asian Americans, who are still saddled with the unassertive, not-suitable-for-management, quiet, unassuming Asian American male image still being perpetuated by popular media. Witness 2 Broke Girls' Han, the owner of the diner where most of the show takes place: He speaks in broken English, he's a short, sex-starved butt of racist innuendos and references to penis size;  or who can watch the Hangover movies without cringing when the Leslie Chow character is on screen? He, too, is neutered, repulsive and speaks broken English.

Pacquiao's popularity with entertainment figures has helped boost his acceptance and idolization among America's non-Asians and populace. He's everywhere: turn on the TV and the PacMan is on the late night talk shows; go to a Giants game and he's throwing the first pitch; here he is on an HBO reality series leading up to the Pacquiao/Mayweather fight; here he is walking to the boxing ring, smiling, waving at his fans, clearly enjoying the moment.

There are recent signs this stereotype may be on shaky ground (about time, I say) with sports figures like the NBA's Jeremy Lin and baseball's Tim Lincecum and Kolten Wong, television's John Cho on the short-lived Selfie, Randall Park as the father in Fresh Off The Boat and Daniel Dae Kim in Hawaii 5-0, but its too early to say if they signal a trend or are simply aberrations. Nevertheless, these examples are still too few to undo generations of reinforced bigotry and prejudice.

Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquio will fight on May 2.

On May 2, Pacquiao will finally meet Floyd Mayweather in the ring to determine the best pound-for-pound fighter in what has been billed as the "fight of the century." Although both fighters are past their prime, the long-anticipated meeting of the pugilists will earn both men the highest purse in fight history and will be one of the most-viewed events in modern times.  No matter the outcome of the fight, Asian American males will come out ahead of the game.

What Pacquiao has been able to do is quite remarkable. He broke through the stereotype that mass media and pop culture applied to a race and gender. He stood out as an individual - a real person: a friendly, smiling guy who loves to sing, who's deeply religious and someone who can make jokes and laugh.

Like Bruce Lee before him, Pacquiao's ascendence as a star - a popular personality excelling in a sport that stresses strength, endurance and toughness - gives America a new view of Asian males. The Filipino fighter's prominence lightens that yoke draped around the necks of Asian American men. Perhaps, Asian American boys can stop apologizing, stop being ashamed, stop wasting their energy fighting a stereotype that haunts them throughout their lives - in school, career and in the heart.

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