He’s Not Only Clean-Cut, He’s Also a Clear Winner
LAS VEGAS — Oscar De La Hoya struck a blow for all guys who take their hats off in elevators, take up the collection at church on Sundays, are polite to their elders, wear their hats frontward and never park their cars on the front lawn and respect their local police.
All us squares.
He took Macho Camacho to the woodshed Saturday night and beat some sense into him. Camacho came in the ring full of defiance, but he made his fight like a guy who stole a pie or is getting away from a bank robbery.
De La Hoya didn’t lose a round. He didn’t lose a minute. For all his bravado and boasting, Camacho was in reverse all night.
De La Hoya threw a shutout. Camacho threw a no-hitter. Most of the night he was clutching De La Hoya like a guy hanging onto a lifeboat. He fought at longer range than a battleship. Most of his blows were like junk mail addressed to “Occupant.†Only De La Hoya wasn’t at home.
It was as one-sided as a shipwreck. De La Hoya looked all night like a guy trying to catch a bus. Camacho looked like a fugitive.
The scenario was set in the first minute. Camacho, as he said he would, tried briefly to carry the fight to De La Hoya. De La Hoya whacked him alongside the head. Camacho got the message. After that he hit the road. His goal seemed survival, not victory. You could almost hear him thinking, “Oh, oh, this guy can hit!â€
He was older, smaller, but quicker and maybe smarter. But De La Hoya had more power. Camacho looked like a guy leaving the scene of an accident all night.
So, yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. The good guy wins one. We don’t have to gnash our teeth and endure Camacho’s posturing.
He came in the ring wearing a costume right out of “Star Trek.†He looked as if he just arrived by UFO or an alien flagship. His trunks were slit down the side like a strumpet’s skirt. You had the feeling he’s in the wrong ring division. His act had everything but Hulk Hogan.
He frustrated De La Hoya but he never hurt him. He hardly hit him. He made his fight like a pickpocket, get in and run quickly.
De La Hoya knocked him down in the ninth round and beat him like a drum all night.
De La Hoya didn’t arrive on the scene like a guy from Mars. He came in as conservatively dressed as a schoolteacher. Like a paying customer. You were surprised they didn’t put him through the metal detector.
Camacho didn’t run up the white flag. He made De La Hoya work to beat him. He was as elusive as a mosquito in a hot room. But the fight was never in doubt.
De La Hoya proved what everybody already knows: he has power. Sometimes he’s a little slow in delivering it. He’s not “Sugar Oscar†or “The Bomber,†but when he does land, opponents get an immediate respect.
It was less a fight than a civics’ lesson. De La Hoya espouses all the old-fashioned values.
De La Hoya is the guy on the white horse come to save the fort--or in this case the profession of pugilism from the inglorious ignominy that seems about to overtake it.
At least, nobody bit anybody. De La Hoya just administered an old-fashioned thrashing to a guy who asked for it. After all, Camacho went around suggesting De La Hoya was just a kind of boring, law-abider who probably wiped his feet before walking on your carpet. He goes through life without an entourage, whereas Camacho looks like a guy leading a parade, recalling the immortal quatrain of another pugilist era when the writer spotted Jack Dempsey entering a ring and wrote, “Hail, the conquering hero comes--surrounded by a bunch of bums!â€
Camacho wasn’t disgraced. Just given a lesson in manners.
It may make it safe to let the kids watch television for a while. Unlike the cross-dressers, hair-dyers, flippant practical jokers that people the world of sport, De La Hoya doesn’t mind being a role model. And what better role model could there be than a guy who wins 12 out of 12 rounds, puts the smart aleck on the seat of his pants--and gets to cut off that curl right in the middle of his forehead.
“This win was for myself, my family and all of my fans, “ De La Hoya said.
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