So often it was his stage, his town.
Oscar de la Hoya will be back in Las Vegas tonight, but only as a promoter and spectator, when Manny Pacquiao and Ricky Hatton meet in the biggest boxing event so far in 2009.
This will be the first look at the highest echelon of the fight game After Oscar, following the retirement of one of the greatest cash-generators in sports history. For those who depend on boxing for their living, it has to be a nervous time.
Boxing certainly isn’t on death’s doorstep, and history would suggest that no matter what happens, no matter what the economic circumstances, no matter how smart and slick the competition is from mixed martial arts, the sweet science is all but immortal. It retains a significant, committed (though perhaps aging) fan base, has a big leg up in the large and growing Hispanic community in the United States, and still turns out charismatic stars, like the two guys in the ring tonight.
Pacquiao, from the Philippines, possesses a unique combination of speed and power, and is regarded as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world right now. Hatton, the amiable lad from Manchester, England, is a strong, smothering brawler with a large and devoted following back home.
Waiting for the winner is the undefeated, about to be unretired Floyd Mayweather Jr.
If that future fight were to be against Pacquiao (Mayweather has already decisively beaten Hatton), it would be the most commercially attractive matchup the sport could generate right now.
But the question is: Can the combination of two of those three attract anything like the mass audience that De La Hoya drew consistently throughout his career, no matter who he was fighting, no matter whether he was winning or losing?
He was a star, pure and simple, born of the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona (back when the networks cared about amateur boxing and the Games were the great launching pad), skillfully managed, ridiculously handsome, exceptionally smart. His appeal from Day 1 extended far beyond the boundaries of his sport.
There were complaints early in his career that he was protected, that he was managed too carefully, but by the time all was said and done, De La Hoya had taken the risks and faced nearly all comers – which is why he lost four of his last seven fights.
He could also elevate those who stepped into the ring with him, he could take Bernard Hopkins or Shane Mosley or Mayweather – fight fans’ favourites, all of them, but hardly household names – and allow them to bask in his celebrity glow. Sugar Ray Leonard did the same thing, but beyond that, in the non-heavyweight ranks, De La Hoya is nearly unique.
Was he a historically great fighter? Well, that’s a different and largely irrelevant question. On the big scale, almost certainly not.
But as a commodity, there’s no debate. Boxing, because it sells directly to its audience without benefit of teams or leagues or corporate sponsors or even a predictable rhythm, is always precisely as appealing as its most attractive product. Most of De La Hoya’s career took place at a time when there was no true ticket-selling heavyweight champion – a situation that shows every sign of continuing – which has traditionally been the sport’s primary economic engine.
In the absence of a Muhammad Ali or a prime-time Mike Tyson, De La Hoya carried boxing, at times nearly by himself.
Pacquiao humiliated De La Hoya last December, which many saw as a passing of the torch.
A national hero in his homeland, touted even as a future candidate for president there, Pacquiao is certainly fun to watch. But he’s a little guy (he began his career fighting as a 106-pound flyweight) who has probably reached his limit at 140 pounds – and traditionally, Americans start paying attention at welterweight and beyond.
Pacquiao barely speaks English. He is 30, which certainly isn’t ancient these days, but considering that he started at 16 and has 53 fights under his belt, Pacquiao is one of those fighters who could lose a little speed, lose some of his remarkable reflexes and hit the wall in a heartbeat.
Most – though not all – of the wise guys see Pacquiao winning tonight, and then look forward to the showdown with Mayweather, who as a personality only really caught on when he gleefully played the villain against De La Hoya.
Boxing fans can talk about that one all night long. But will anybody else be talking?
When De La Hoya was in the picture, there was never a need to ask.
