Be Inspired. The Story of Mr. Phillip Wong and the Spirit of Fairtex

“If you give up, that’s the day you die. But if you keep going — there’s always a chance.”

When people hear the name Fairtex today, they think of world-class fighters, iconic gear, and a brand worn proudly in gyms across the globe. But behind the success, beyond the gloves and the championships, is a story of grit, sacrifice, and a man who refused to quit — even when everything around him told him to.

That man is Mr. Phillip Wong, the founder of Fairtex. And his story is not just the story of a business — it’s the story of a life built on perseverance, passion, and purpose.

A Fighter Before the Fight

Mr. Wong’s first fight happened when he was just five years old. He lost. But instead of walking away in defeat, he made himself a quiet promise:

“I will train Muay Thai. I will never be weak again.”

At six, he began training. At nine, he moved to Hong Kong — a place where he didn’t speak the language and had no one to rely on. He was an outsider. A target.

He couldn’t defend himself with words. So he did it with Muay Thai.

The bullying stopped. Respect followed.

“If you’re weak, people push you down,” he says. “But if you’re strong, they respect you.”

This wasn’t just about physical power. It was about standing up when the world tries to push you over. That mindset became the foundation of everything that came next.   

       

The Dream That Nobody Believed In

Years later, after finishing his education, Mr. Wong returned to Thailand. By then, Muay Thai had given him more than just confidence — it had given him an identity. A sense of purpose. A reason to keep going.

So he made another promise — this time, not to himself, but to the sport:

“One day, if I have the money, I will give back to Muay Thai. I want the world to know what this art truly is.”

He asked his father if he could open a Muay Thai camp on one of the family’s factory properties. His father, a traditional businessman, said no.

“You’re a businessman,” he told him. “What do you need Muay Thai for?”

But Mr. Wong insisted. He explained that if he didn’t do this — if he didn’t follow his passion — he would waste his time and drift. If he built the camp, he’d stay focused. He’d give back. He’d stay home.

Eventually, his father relented. And with that, Fairtex was born.

The Business No One Wanted Him In

The early years weren’t glamorous. Muay Thai at the time was not a polished sport — it was tangled in gambling, corruption, and fixed fights. Most camps were run by people who bent the rules. Mr. Wong did not.

He didn’t fix fights. He didn’t gamble. He didn’t cheat. He built a camp based on values. And because of that, he was seen as an outsider — too clean, too honest, too naïve.

      People didn’t believe he would last. 

But he did — at a cost. For fifty years, he personally covered the losses of the camp. Month after month, half a million baht went out the door. Other business ventures paid the bills, while Fairtex operated at a loss.

“I never made money from Muay Thai,” he says. “But I never gave up.”

There were moments that nearly broke him. Once, he caught his fighters and trainers gambling all night instead of training. Another time, a fighter he trusted took a bribe and threw a fight in front of hundreds of Mr. Wong’s employees who had come to cheer him on.

Both times, he closed the camp.

Both times, he came back.

“If you give up, that’s the end,” he says. “But if you keep going — there’s still a chance.”

The Fall — and the Fight Back

By the time Mr. Wong turned 60, most people in Thailand would be thinking about retirement. But that was never who he was.

His main source of income then was the garment export business, shipping to America under the quota system. He held a huge portion of Thailand’s quota, enough to make sales easy — and even trade quotas for profit. Then, overnight, the system ended.

Without quotas, he and his partner knew they couldn’t compete with China’s massive workforce and low production costs. They made the difficult decision to close the business while still on top, avoiding the losses that later crushed others.

But that left a question he wasn’t ready to face:   What now?

He already had a Muay Thai camp, but he dreamed of more — a hotel, a gym, and the largest Muay Thai facility in the world. On a piece of unused land in Pattaya, he envisioned a six-star health center, a half-Olympic swimming pool, a luxury hotel, and a Fairtex training camp unlike anything the sport had seen.

He poured hundreds of millions of baht into it. And when the money ran low, he borrowed from the bank, leaning on decades of good credit.

Then disaster struck.

Thailand erupted into political unrest. Violence filled the streets. Tourism collapsed by 70%. The agencies that had promised to send guests to his new hotel sent them elsewhere, to their long-time partners. His grand opening came with no customers — only expenses.

And he had made a critical mistake: without the garment business, there was nothing to support him. The debts mounted. The interest grew. Bankruptcy loomed.

For the first time in his life, Mr. Wong felt crushed.

“I even thought about ending my life,” he says quietly. “I had never had money problems. Suddenly, it was all gone.”

He thought about his family. His employees. The people who relied on him.

“If I kill myself, who will take care of them?”

He tried to find peace. Clarity. Direction. People told him to change his name. He did. He even entered the monastery to become a monk — just for a few days — hoping it would help him realign with something greater than his problems.

But even there, he couldn’t stay quiet.

During morning sermons, when monks criticized other religions or condemned people who raised animals for food, Mr. Wong spoke up. He challenged what he believed was unfair. He questioned everything — not out of disrespect, but because it’s who he is.

The head monk finally told his family:

“He’s not ready to be a monk. You should take him home.”

Because Mr. Wong isn’t meant to sit still. He is meant to fight.

So he returned home — broke, exhausted, and filled with fear — but he stood back up.

He went to the bank, not to beg, but to negotiate:

“You can take everything I own — my house, my cars, my businesses. But if you do, can you run them? Even I, with all my experience, am struggling. Give me a chance, and I will pay you back. If I fail, you take it all.”

They agreed to a 20-year installment plan.

The years that followed were filled with quiet battles. He worked. He failed. He cried alone at night. He started again. He failed again. And he kept going.

It took 20 years.

But in the end, he paid back every single baht — hundreds of millions. He rebuilt his empire. And today, he is making more than he did in his so-called “prime time.”

“If you are foolish enough to end your life, that’s it. You destroy your family, your employees, everyone who depends on you. But if you fight back — there’s always a chance. Look at me. I started again at 61, and I made it even bigger than before.”

When the World Finally Noticed

For decades, he worked without recognition. But then something began to shift. The global rise of combat sports, led by Chatri Sityodtong and ONE Championship, introduced Muay Thai to an audience far beyond Thailand’s borders.

Fights were televised in over 190 countries. The artistry, the power, the culture of Muay Thai was suddenly in living rooms, gyms, and arenas around the world.

And when people discovered Muay Thai, they discovered Fairtex — because it had always been there.

Fairtex wasn’t new. It was pioneering. The world was simply catching up.

The gear became iconic. The fighters became champions. The name meant something. 
“We were there first,” Mr. Wong says. “And when Muay Thai became global, Fairtex rose with it.”

Still Fighting, Still Giving

Mr. Wong is now 81 years old. Most people his age would have slowed down, stepped back, and left the work to others. But not him.

Every day, he still shows up. He walks the grounds of Fairtex in Pattaya, watching fighters train, greeting staff, and thinking about the next move.

When people ask why he hasn’t retired, he just smiles:

“I waited 50 years for this. Why would I stop now?”

Success has not made him complacent — it has made him more determined. And he’s using that success to give back.

He has built clinics in rural villages where people once died simply because they couldn’t reach medical care in time. He supports retired employees, many of whom are now elderly and sick, making sure they are looked after.

“I’m not building a business,” he says. “I’m building something that helps people — my staff, my community, my country.”

For him, Fairtex has never been about making money. It has always been about making a difference.

A Legacy That Fights On

Mr. Wong’s dream is for Fairtex to live far beyond him — to be carried forward by his children, his grandchildren, and generations of fighters and trainers who believe in what the name stands for.    

He knows they won’t inherit a perfect company.

They’ll inherit a fight.

And he hopes they carry it with the same strength and purpose that has driven him for a lifetime.

Fairtex was never built for quick wins or easy victories. It was built to prove that some dreams are worth the pain. Some fights are worth the struggle.

“I may not be number one yet,” he says. “But we will be.”

And when that day comes, it won’t just be a victory for Fairtex — it will be a victory for everyone who has ever been told they couldn’t.

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Be Inspired.

Fairtex is more than a brand.
It’s a symbol of resilience, of rising when life knocks you down.

Now we want to hear your story.

If Muay Thai or combat sports helped you overcome fear, rebuild your confidence, or stand up again after being knocked down — share it.

Each month, we’ll feature real stories on the Fairtex website and across our social channels to inspire fighters, trainers, and fans around the world.

Because somewhere out there, someone is ready to quit.
And your journey might be the reason they don’t.

Tell us your story.
Inspire the world.

“If you give up, that’s the day you die. But if you keep going — there’s always a chance.”