IBHOF inductee and former Boxing News and Boxing Monthly Editor Graham Houston recalls his ringside experiences from the big fight nights in Vegas.
ONE thinks of Las Vegas and one thinks of mega fights. It’s been my good fortune to have been ringside for many of them. They have provided a trove of memories and, at the editor’s invitation, I thought I’d share some of them with you in a regular series.
I won’t start at the very beginning: That would be Salvador Sanchez vs Wilfredo Gomez at Caesars Palace in August 1981. Instead, I’ll go with this one:
OSCAR DE LA HOYA TKO4 JULIO CESAR CHAVEZ
Caesars Palace outdoor arena, June 7, 1996
De La Hoya vs Chavez was a passing-of-the-torch type of fight. In one corner we had the younger challenger, De La Hoya, the Golden Boy: Tall, handsome, unbeaten, Olympic gold medallist.
Chavez was the battle-hardened veteran, a three-weight world champion. He was defending his WBC title at 140 pounds having been a champion at 130 and 135 pounds.
Some saw Chavez as the true Mexican warrior in the fight, carrying the flag for Old Mexico if you will. But De La Hoya, born and raised in East Los Angeles, was proud of his Mexican roots. ‘Fight Doctor’ turned broadcaster Ferdie Pacheco put it to me this way: “Chavez is Latin; De La Hoya is an American Latin. There’s a difference.”
The fight was a Bob Arum-Don King co-promotion. Arum promoted De La Hoya, while King represented Chavez. Because Arum’s fights were televised on HBO and King’s on the rival Showtime TV network, the promoters cut a deal wherein the fight would be shown on the now old-fashioned closed-circuit TV method, with the event displayed on big screens in movie theatres and sports arenas throughout the US and Canada. It was a Friday night fight.
Chavez and De La Hoya had shared top billing in set-up fights four months earlier. Both won their bouts in the second round. Chavez demolished a fair-skinned boxer from Arizona named Scott Walker, whose claim to fame was that had outpointed a very much faded Alexis Arguello. De La Hoya blew out Darryl Tyson, a veteran from the capital city of Washington DC.
So the stage was set.
Boxing insiders liked De La Hoya’s chances from the outset. “As soon as they put up a [betting] line I’m going to be betting Oscar with both hands,” Las Vegas radio-show host and big-time bettor Dave Cokin told me.
It wasn’t just the so-called wise guys who were picking De La Hoya, though. Almost everyone in the media was also siding with the Golden Boy. In a poll in the Las Vegas Review-Journal, 35 of 38 writers picked De La Hoya. But Don King thought the “boss scribes” (as King tongue-in-cheek described the writers) had got it all wrong. King said he was betting $600,000 on Chavez.
De La Hoya was favoured at odds of -220 in American odds (or 5/11) at the Caesars sports book. The under/over was set at 10 rounds, with the “under” favoured at -200 (1/2).
Of all the big fights I’ve seen over the years, this quite frankly was the one where I was the most certain of the outcome. De La Hoya was a decade younger (aged 23 to Chavez’s 33), taller, faster, stronger. His star was in the ascendant.
Chavez had been knocked down in a split-decision defeat against the skilled and underrated Frankie Randall, looked lucky to get out of Dodge with a technical-decision win in the rematch and in his recent fights he had been getting hit much more easily than once was the case. It was, for me, ships sailing in different directions.
“De La Hoya, fired with the ambition of youth, might be able to produce the sort of spectacular performance that earns comparisons with the great fighters of yesteryear,” I wrote in the Boxing Monthly preview. (I guess I nailed my colours to the De La Hoya mast in that one.)
The fight was, of course, eagerly anticipated. It was labelled “Ultimate Glory”. All 15,000 seats at Caesars Palace were sold in 18 days.
It is always searingly hot in Las Vegas in the summer months but fight day seemed particularly scorching. From memory, I believe the heat inside the ring was estimated at 100 degrees although in the arena itself the desert night air was beginning to cool.
Chavez had the support of the Mexican fans. The nation’s red, green and white flag was much in evidence. But De La Hoya’s demeanour was one of grim resolve. I was struck by how tough and actually mean De La Hoya looked. A thick growth of stubble darkened his chin. His hair was cut short. I was reminded of an Emanuel Steward remark: “Oscar’s got that great smile and perfect manners, but when the bell rings he becomes one of the most cold-blooded killers I’ve seen.”
The fight itself was, of course, one-sided though dramatic. De La Hoya had promised he would not be running from Chavez. Nor did he. De La Hoya’s jabs were soon slamming into Chavez’s face. These were stiff jolts. Chavez’ face rapidly reddened. Worse, much worse, was to follow, with Chavez cut over the left eye — as if his eyebrow had suddenly unzipped — from yet another jab. Blood started to flow down the left side of his face. And this was only the first round.
My successor as BN editor Harry Mullan, seated next to me, feared the worst — that Chavez was in an impossible situation with 11 rounds to go. “That’s a bad cut and the fight’s hardly started,” Harry said. “What a disappointment.” But for De La Hoya backers, the fight could hardly have started better.
The loyal Mexican contingent tried to rally their man with what seemed to me a rather half-hearted chant of “May-hee-co”. But nothing could save Chavez. De La Hoya was hitting him freely to body and head, stopping him in his tracks, even forcing him back.
As the second round ended, in a poignant moment, Chavez, wiping blood from his eye, walked towards a neutral corner instead of his own, only correcting his course when referee Joe Cortez called “Julio!” to alert him to his error.
Frustrated, confused, bloodied, Chavez was like an ageing lion at bay. He gestured to the younger man to stand toe-to-toe. But De La Hoya picked his moments to unload his punches, then pulled back to continue his long-rang sharpshooting.
When Chavez did manage to get close, in the third round, De La Hoya manhandled him, swinging him around in a clinch. Referee Cortez cautioned De La Hoya. But De La Hoya had demonstrated he could not only outbox and outpunch Chavez but was also physically stronger.
Chavez tried to take the fight to De La Hoya in the fourth round but the younger man stood up to the champion’s left hooks and came back with sharp, hard punches. Not only was blood streaming from the cut over Chavez’ left eye but, as I noted in my ringside report, “his nose seemed to crumple under the force of De La Hoya’s blows”. All the old, hackneyed phrases applied: “Face a mask of blood” and the like. It was all too much.
Referee Cortez called for a time out and asked commission doctor Flip Homansky to examine the slice over Chavez’s eye. Could Chavez possibly be allowed to continue? Homansky shook his head. It was all over after two minutes, 37 seconds of the fourth round.
Sadly, Chavez did not accept defeat gracefully. He said his eye had been cut in training but that after three months’ preparation he didn’t want to ask for a postponement. He said he didn’t feel De La Hoya’s punches.
De La Hoya initially paid tribute to Chavez at the post-fight press conference. “This was very tough for me because Julio Cesar Chavez has been a great champion and will always be my idol,” De La Hoya said. “But my job is to win fights.”
But De La Hoya’s mood changed when notified of Chavez’s unflattering post-fight comments. “Well, that goes to show what kind of person he is,” De La Hoya said. “I think I deserve a little bit of credit. For somebody to say that his opponent doesn’t hit hard, that he’s a no-good fighter, it hurts my feelings. But if Chavez believes that, that’s his opinion.”
De La Hoya said he would be more than happy to give Chavez a rematch. This duly took place two years later at the Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, with De La Hoya winning on a corner retirement after eight rounds.
