His name is Oscar De La Hoya, he answers to the sobriquet "Golden Boy," and he just might be the best boxer in the world.
A year ago it would have been apt to draw a parallel between De La Hoya and Britain's Prince Naseem Hamed. Despite their prodigious accomplishments in the ring, each was virtually unknown to all save the boxing cognoscenti on the other side of the Atlantic. The American stock of the Prince, who is to fight Wayne McCullough on October 31st, has taken a dramatic upturn with his lucrative long-term contract with HBO, and De La Hoya's backers are hoping to gain a foothold in Europe with tonight's Sky telecast of his WBC welterweight title defence against Julio Cesar Chavez, the somewhat tarnished Mexican legend who continues to fight despite evidence that he has, at 36, outlived his usefulness.
De La Hoya-Chavez will, alas, be shown live from Las Vegas, meaning that tonight's exposure will largely be confined to hard-core boxing fans and harder-core insomniacs. The telecast won't commence until 2 a.m., and it could be close to five by the time the main event enters the ring.
The 25 year-old De La Hoya is a promoter's dream. A product of the Mexican-American barrios of East Los Angeles, he is devastatingly handsome, articulate in two languages, and a former Olympic gold medallist (Barcelona '92), unbeaten in 28 professional tests, who has already won world titles at four different weight classes.
When he arrived in Las Vegas several days ago he appeared at a press conference with Chavez, and later participated in a series of television interviews. When it came the turn of a TV crew from Tokyo, the Golden Boy smilingly offered "I can speak a few words of Japanese if you like."
Arum has carefully (cynically, some might say) plied De La Hoya's heritage to suit the market whenever possible. In fights against the likes of Rafael Ruelas, Miguel Angel Gonzalez, and Chavez the first time around, Oscar was cast as the gringo, and, entered the ring waving the Stars and Stripes. Against Whitaker, he was cast in the image of his forbears, and was piped into the ring wearing a sombrero. When he fought Patrick Charpentier before an audience approaching 50,000 at El Paso's Sun Bowl in June, he arrived in the ring turned out like a matador. Or maybe it was Zorro.
Chavez brings a record of 101-2-2 to tonight's encounter at the Thomas & Mack Arena, but no matter how it comes, De La Hoya (28-0) knows that a win isn't going to do much for his reputation. The 36 year-old former legend is perceived as hopelessly shopworn, and Julio's brave talk about reviving "the Warrior Chavez" is just that, talk. But, De La Hoya continues to insist, "this one is personal."
Even though tonight's fight figures to be a mismatch (De La Hoya opened an 8 to 1 favourite), the Thomas & Mack looks a near-sellout, with most of the tickets being snapped up by Chavez' Mexican supporters. Caesars Palace, which is hosting the bout, is staging a weekend-long "Mexican Fiesta," and make no mistake about it. In this one, the Golden Boy has been cast as the gringo again.
The last time De La Hoya and Chavez met in the ring, the Golden Boy took just four rounds to leave Chavez looking as if he'd just gone 15 with a weed eater. By the time the bout was stopped, Chavez' nose was broken and even his cuts had cuts. As decisive as the outcome might have been, it was tainted, at least in De La Hoya's mind, by the litany of excuses that came tumbling from Chavez almost immediately afterward.
"Oscar never hurt me. I didn't go down," said Chavez, paraphrasing a Robert De Niro-asJake La Motta line from Raging Bull.
The severe cut that ultimately stopped the fight, claimed Chavez, probably correctly, was a pre-existing wound. Chavez claimed he had been head-butted while playing with his kid in the days before the fight. It looked to us more like the work of Frankie Randall, but no matter. Oscar felt Chavez had insulted him. He still does.
"I seriously don't like the guy," said De La Hoya earlier this week. "Before it was different, because I didn't know him. This time I want to make sure there are no excuses. If it's not a clear, devastating knockout, it will disappoint me, actually.
"If he cuts right away, the excuses will start coming. It would be a disaster if he starts bleeding right away in the first round again, but I know I can't carry him."
In his mind's eye tonight's fight has already taken place. A dozen times, at least. Sometimes the moment comes sooner, sometimes later, but come it always does.
"I have him wobbled. He's hurt. One more punch will take him out, but I don't let it go," said De La Hoya, the trace of a smile curling on his lips as he lounged in an easy chair in a millionaire's suite at Caesars Palace.
"I want to make him suffer," De La Hoya continued. "At least I find myself thinking that way sometimes. Then I tell myself: `Look, this guy can be dangerous. Don't fool around'."
Which denouement will we see, then? "I don't know," said the Golden Boy. "It depends on how I'm feeling (tonight)."
He has already been tentatively matched with WBA champion Ike Quartey for a fight this November (Quartey has signed; De La Hoya has not - yet), and agreed to another against IBF claimant Felix Trindidad for next year. Once he cleans up the welterweight division, the plan is to move him up, first to 154lb, eventually to middleweight. Gil Clancy, the Hall of Fame trainer who joined Team De La Hoya last year, predicts that by then De La Hoya could establish himself as "the best pound-for-pound fighter. Ever."
His squeaky-clean image took something of a beating recently, however, in, of all places, the usually-adoring pages of his hometown paper, the Los Angeles Times.
Seems that on a visit to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, earlier this summer the Golden Boy got a bit randy. Stumbled, drunk, into an American college kid, who instead of taking umbrage, bought him a beer. De La Hoya thereupon poured the beer all over a Mexican stripper, and then proceeded to lick it off.
There were also reports that his gambling tastes at the Las Vegas casinos had threatened to become so out-of-control that Arum and De La Hoya adviser Mike Hernandez had asked several casinos to place a $25,000 limit on the Golden Boy's wagers.
"Maybe I needed a wakeup call," said De La Hoya, who to his credit did not attempt to deny the allegations. "I mean, when I train, I train hard, but sometimes between fights I had a tendency to let myself go too much. It's kind of frustrating that I can't be normal. Sometimes I just want to be human."
It isn't easy, being a Golden Boy. Not when the whole country is watching. Could have been worse, he was told.
"How's that?" De La Hoya arched his eyebrows.
"You could have been the president."
