Is Alex Eala the new Pacquiao?

For a country long used to finding its sporting heroes inside the boxing ring, it is refreshing — if not revolutionary — to see a new name drawing cheers from Filipinos around the world, this time on a tennis court.

At just 20 years old, Alex Eala has taken the global tennis stage by storm, carving out victories and headlines that have prompted inevitable comparisons with the Philippines’ most celebrated athlete: Manny Pacquiao. But is she really the new Pacquiao?

The comparison isn’t far-fetched. Just like Manny in his heyday, Eala has become appointment viewing for Filipino sports fans. Her matches — streamed online and covered by sports channels — now provoke the same national excitement and emotional investment that once surrounded Pacquiao’s bouts. Now, it’s not uncommon to find groups huddled before a screen, collectively holding their breath as Eala battles it out against international opponents on the WTA tour.

After becoming the first Filipina to reach the semifinals of a WTA 1000 event and defeating a Top 10 player in the process, Eala instantly became a household name. Her historic performance at the 2025 Miami Open attracted over 170,000 live viewers on YouTube — a jaw-dropping number for a tennis match in a basketball-obsessed country.

Online, her influence continues to grow. She commands more than 200,000 followers on Instagram, and her fan base — largely composed of young, hopeful Filipinos — is growing by the day. On Reddit, X (formerly Twitter) and local forums, the buzz is unmistakable. Comments comparing her mental toughness and humility to that of a young Manny Pacquiao are abundant.

“She brings back that no-name Pacquiao vibe,” one netizen remarked. Another observed, “She looks sweet, but don’t be fooled — her killer instinct is pure Pacquiao.”

Eala’s rise is symbolic in many ways. Pacquiao represented the classic rags-to-riches story, capturing not just championship belts but also the aspirations of the Filipino poor. His success was grit, faith and an indomitable will personified. Eala, on the other hand, represents a new kind of Filipino dream — one that sees us excelling in traditionally elite sports, in arenas we’ve never dominated before.

It helps that Eala is no fluke. Her junior Grand Slam wins, ITF titles, and recent breakthrough performances in major WTA tournaments are testament to her steady climb. She plays with tactical intelligence, composure beyond her years, and a fiery competitiveness that resonates with fans who are looking for more than just potential — they want greatness.

Yet greatness in sports is not just measured by titles or statistics. It’s also measured by how much an athlete moves a nation. Pacquiao brought an entire country together every time he entered the ring. The crime rate dropped. Politicians paused their squabbles. Streets emptied. He turned fights into unofficial holidays.

Eala may not yet command that level of national hypnosis, but the signs are there. Social media explodes during her matches. Commentators call her our “next big hope.” She is being called the face of Philippine tennis. More importantly, she inspires a new generation of young Filipinos — especially girls — to dream of holding a racket instead of a mic or a basketball.

Eala has also started to capture the attention of mainstream Philippine media. She’s become a favorite feature in sports columns, morning shows and lifestyle segments. Endorsements are starting to pour in, and she’s slowly but surely becoming a face synonymous with pride and possibility.

Of course, tennis is different from boxing. It’s less tribal, less bloody, less cinematic. There may never be another Manny Pacquiao — and perhaps there shouldn’t be. Alex Eala is not trying to be the next Pacquiao; she’s becoming the first Alex Eala. Her journey will be different, defined less by brute force and more by precision and finesse. But the effect? The national pride? The growing fanbase? Very much the same.

In a country hungry for heroes, especially in sports, Eala is not just a breath of fresh air — she’s a full-blown gust.