The goat really got David Diaz. The WBC lightweight champion made it from the Olympics to the pinnacle of prizefighting with a firm belief that his fate was in his own hands. He absorbed that philosophy from his parents while they raised nine kids, including baby David, as Mexican immigrants in Chicago. After earning an unlikely berth on the 1996 US Olympic team with that same tenacity, Diaz determined his own fate when he quit boxing for two years – and again when he returned to the sport in 2002. Four years later, Diaz rallied from a heavy deficit for a knockout victory that eventually secured his title belt. Diaz's life is stuffed with examples of why superstitions should be powerless over him. So why did Diaz want to sprint off the Santa Monica Pier on Monday at the sight of a goat in a Chicago Cubs baseball hat? Well, because Diaz is also a lifelong Cubs fan who knows just enough about the Curse of the Billy Goat, the 63-year-old jinx that's supposedly keeping his long-suffering club from winning the Major League Baseball title, to be very afraid. The promoters of his Saturday bout with WBC super featherweight champion Manny Pacquiao for Diaz's lightweight title jokingly recruited the goat to provide color at the news conference, yet Diaz wasn't really laughing. “Man, that billy goat scared me, dude,” Diaz said with a laugh. “Can you imagine if the Cubs start messing up, and that gets around? I'm not having that on my ticket.” Diaz wants nothing more than an honest chance to do the improbable. Pacquiao is a heavy favorite in the Vegas sportsbooks for the Filipino's first fight at 61 kilos, and Diaz is widely expected to struggle against Pacquiao's formidable power. But it's never been a good idea to count out Diaz – not since he beat favored prospect Zab Judah twice to take the light weltwereight spot on the US team in the Atlanta Games. He then posted a stunning comeback win in 2006, falling behind on all three judges' scorecards before knocking out Jose Armando Santa Cruz – a victory that led to his coronation. “He's had a tremendous career when he's been behind,” said promoter Bob Arum, who re-signed Diaz after the fighter's two-year break. “No matter how hopeless it looks, he stays in there and never quits.” Diaz clearly isn't the star in Saturday's fight. Wearing shorts that made him look like any young Las Vegas vacationer, Diaz spent several moments at Wednesday's news conference patiently waiting as Pacquiao signed gloves and posed for pictures before the fighters could do their own photo shoot. Yet Diaz doesn't mind, since he obviously appreciates everything he's earned. He got choked up when he thanked his father, who overcame minimal education and tight financial circumstances to raise nine children in Chicago. “He's my first best friend,” Diaz said. “He's the man I look up to. Doesn't read, doesn't write, and he still took care of nine kids. ... He loves boxing like I do. I asked him one time if I could go out and play (American) football, and he said, ‘That's a sport for animals.'” Diaz also is a mid-major sports celebrity in Chicago these days. Yet even on the verge of an $800,000-plus payday for taking on Pacquiao, Diaz still drives around Chicagoland in a 1991 car with no air conditioning – or at least he did, until he loaned it to his nephew. “My wife's got a car, and she lets me use it once in a while,” Diaz said. “We've got to get a new one. Probably have to move up to a 1998.” Diaz won't acknowledge thinking much about how his life would change if he beat Pacquiao. Jim Strickland, Diaz's longtime trainer and beloved adviser, has said he might finally retire if Diaz wins, though Diaz claims he wouldn't allow it. And though he claims to have more superstitions than he could mention, Diaz knows the responsibility for beating Pacquiao rests solely on his unimposing shoulders – goat or no goat. “I have to go out there and perform,” Diaz said. “If I don't do it, I'm not going to win. I never thought I'd get the championship, but now that I have it, I don't want to let it go.” – AP __
