By George Diaz Smith

On May 5th 2007, the billfold rollout begins at the MGM Grand, Garden Arena, and Las Vegas, NV, commemorating and honoring that youthful Mexican American who affixed invoking flag waving impregnated memories upon us some fourteen years ago. WBC Super Welterweight champion, Oscar “The Golden Boy” De La Hoya (38-4, 30 KO’s) will defend his domain at the countering beseeching P4P quarry against boxing’s impresario—and African American by way of Grand Rapids, MI, the Four-divisional WBC champion, “Pretty Boy” Floyd Mayweather, Jr. (37-0, 24 KO’s), possessor of speeds gone uncovered hence optimal through Montreal’s ’76 US team—which heralded Howard Davis, Jr., and Sugar Ray as foremost a spellbinding supersonic dream. Germany hosted one in 1936 for a September born Virgo, Jessie Owens, to shine and bring back four gold’s fulfilling promise of the meek inheriting earth. And who could forget about an East Los Angeles youngster taking gold with both blazing guns during the 1992 Olympic games in Barcelona? As if that wasn’t bold enough—paraded after each match with an American flag in one hand—and a Mexican flag on the other. Nobody really quite grasped it then, but the American psyche was about to get a nudge of the newer accountability and leaderships Hispanics have made throughout society—a mark no lesser densely populated visually then before, yet gone far too unnoticed as if they had been put to sleep by sorcery.

Same sparks of excitement about these striking similarities were when in 1980 Roberto Duran met Ray Leonard their first time, in the exact location the “Sugar Man” had gotten the gold four years earlier—only to then lose the acclaimed WBC welterweight green carried hardware to the “Hands Of Stone.” Remember? Duran had gotten under Ray’s thick skin somehow, and even before the match had begun saluted both Juanita and SRL with the middle finger—amongst some other accompanying kinds of uncomplimentary expletives, we won’t go into detail here. Duran on that night was cruel, spontaneous, cold and cunning—unforgiving, and just downright nasty. De La Hoya by contrast isn’t that same guy, but could damned well have been any rugged fighter’s successor fighting the perfect fight liken the night he fought Ike Quartey St. Valentine eve’s ‘99, or the heartbreaker he did in 2002 against Fernando Vargas. In Quartey’s canto he reaped and radiated individual boxing oats enabling him to hang tough with what many perceived as being the best welterweight of the century. Oscar surpassed and dominated Quartey’s fighting fortitude that time to pull the upset… having quieted all of those speculative enquiries causing for some in answering about his storability to reinvent and expel power sources from within the boxing tree’s pulp itself. Mayweather’s brush with fret happened back in April 2002 against Jose Luis Castillo l, rebounded in the rematch, but almost always got persecuted for that questionable decision first time (135 lbs.,). At welterweight hadn’t exactly stopped the world either—but manifested being boxing’s genuine guru, shuffling between junctions along another gamer in the Pinoy typhoon, Manny Pacquiao, who fights his ass off at four lower weights.

If Floyd for some unknown reason became tender-headed against DLH; he’d have to wear some of his finest running track shoes to beat him; and have the bedeviled defensive mastery of a Wilfred Benitez to pull off the upset; still maintaining the gumption to looking pretty damned good in doing it. Whether some demystification in Floyd occurs or not, you just don’t envision seeing him coming back like a prodigal son—short of a modern day miracle. He needs to keep his mean edge. Mayweather’s flashy and holds factors being quicker stepped then Oscar is. Not faster. Trouble is choosing basically between two of the finest round stealers? If Mayweather can nullify that looping gun fastened shoulder sling latched onto De La Hoya’s perpetual left hook, then only a centimeter separates either outcomes. We’re going to be surprised by Floyd’s resiliency for this one, and as incredibly astounded at DLH’s physical conditioning. On Emerald City’s greener turf I’m bankrolling on Oscar’s lion share to be expanding his habitation — sealing it by split-decision.