HE IS A quiet man, content to observe, and his manner gives him the air of the mystic. As everything around Manny Pacquiao moves -- quickly, and solely for his benefit -- he remains fixed, a stone in the center of a stream. In the backyard of his luxurious and incredibly occupied home in Los Angeles, men and women work grills and carry plates and tend to the line of rice cookers. Inside, a man in a T-shirt and loose basketball shorts -- the uniform of Team Pacquiao -- stands next to the boss, cutting a grilled chicken breast and an extremely well-done porterhouse with a pair of kitchen scissors.