(Photo by Wally Skalij/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

Shane Mosley vs. Oscar De La Hoya 1 & 2

REVISITING THE LOS ANGELES RIVALRY THAT PRODUCED ONE OF THE FIRST CLASSICS OF THE 21ST CENTURY

Careening down the 105 East freeway in my rental car, I must have broken a dozen traffic laws driving from LAX to my hotel in downtown Los Angeles. I felt like a drunken kamikaze pilot, switching lanes in a reckless attempt to find the correct exit. I finally arrived at the hotel’s address, but it wasn’t there! I figured I must have missed it, so I drove around the block a few times with no luck. Finally, I saw a mail carrier, pulled over to the curb, and asked if he could help me.

“Oh, they changed the name about a week ago.”

First, a death-defying car ride that could easily have turned into a destruction derby, and then a shifty sign had me momentarily discombobulated. Welcome to L.A.! 

I checked in and flopped on the bed, the travel hassles quickly fading. Oscar De La Hoya and Shane Mosley were going to fight in a few days (June 17, 2000), two popular A-siders battling for welterweight supremacy and the WBC trinket. We could not have asked for more. “The Golden Boy” and “Sugar Shane” was an easy sell, as close to a sure thing as boxing gets.

The fight had worldwide ramifications but was also a local rivalry. Oscar is from East L.A. and Shane from Pomona, a 30-minute drive east of Los Angeles. They trained together as amateurs, sparred, and even had one amateur bout when they were kids.

Both had been remarkably successful pros. De La Hoya was richer, had Olympic Gold and a prettier nose. Mosley was like a modern-day Hermes, quick, agile and powerful. And now, finally, they were going to fight one another for real, at the newly built Staples Center, no less. There was no villain or hero, just a pair of nice guys eager to beat the crap out of each other.

Just two fresh-faced lads in the City of Angels. (Photo by The Ring Magazine via Getty Images)

We’ve all watched fights that should have been sensational but turned out to be stinkers. The first Mosley-De La Hoya match was the extreme opposite, among the very best fights of the new millennia, two superstars willing to dare all in search of victory. 

The inevitable had arrived.

DE LA HOYA

Going into the first Mosley match, there were questions. De La Hoya was on the best run of his career when he suffered his first pro defeat, a 12-round majority decision loss to Felix Trinidad, September 18, 1999. It was a superfight that should have been explosive but turned out to have a damp fuse. 

For long stretches, Oscar and Tito looked like a couple of Nervous Nellies worried about stepping in puddles. We were expecting a thrilling fight but got a startlingly tame affair, especially because both were known as aggressive punchers.

The buffer between the Trinidad downer and first Mosley match was De La Hoya’s domination of Derrell Coley at Madison Square Garden on February 26, 2000. The Golden Boy had promised to have four fights in 2000 and four knockouts. No mercy. Coley became the first victim of the year when he was knocked out by a body shot in the seventh round.

When negotiations for a Trinidad-De La Hoya rematch fell through, Oscar told promoter Bob Arum he wanted Mosley next. Considering how tedious the Trinidad fight had been, a De La Hoya-Mosley fight made much more sense. Top Rank couldn’t risk another multimillion-dollar sparring session.

MOSLEY

At lightweight, Sugar Shane was a marvel to behold. He had an aesthetic quality that juxtaposed poetic grace with chilling violence in a way that allows us to understand how closely beauty and brutality are intertwined when a true master is applying the strokes. For me, his lightweight years were his best years. 

If there was a shortcoming in Mosley’s lightweight reign, it was the quality of the challengers. They were all competent pros who came to win but had little marquee value. Jesse James Leija was probably the most recognizable of the eight men Mosley dispatched between November 1997 and April 1999. But they were all disposed of in such a pleasing manner that fans were eager to watch Sugar Shane do his thing.

Mosley had been fighting as a lightweight since his amateur career and welcomed the opportunity to face De La Hoya at 147 pounds.

THE FIRST DE LA HOYA-MOSLEY FIGHT

(Photo by Al Bello/Getty Images)

They were like fighter pilots in a dogfight, using speed and angles to engage, strafing one another and then escaping. Those yearning for a bit of the old ultra violence had to wait until the final round. But there were plenty of exchanges, close rounds and changes of fortune leading up to the climax. They were using their brains as well as their fists.

For the final three minutes, the capacity crowd of 20,744 was on its feet, as it had been throughout much of the fight. The grandstand finish was superb. Even though Mosley outlanded the Golden Boy by a massive 45-18 margin, Oscar was still on his feet, still going for it when the final bell rang.

Jack Mosley gives his son a victory ride. (Photo by Wally Skalij/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

It was a fight to be proud of, a showcase of boxing as it should be. I never cheer or root during a fight, but when it’s over I’ve been known to clap for the boxers. If the fight warrants it, I’ll stand and clap. I stood for Shane and Oscar.

Thanks to judges Lou Fillipo (116-112) and Pat Russell (115-113) Mosley won by a split decision that should have been unanimous. Yes, it was close, but there was no excuse for Marty Sammon’s insane tally of 115-113 in De La Hoya’s favor. Have you noticed that outrageously bad scores are usually in favor of the house fighter?

The fight set a new California state gate record of more than $8 million. There were also approximately 700,000 pay-per-view buys and The Ring selected the fight as boxing’s Event of the Year.

After he retired in 2008, De La Hoya confessed that he was worried about facing Mosley the first time. “I knew of his skills,” he told The Ring. “I knew how fast he was. At the same time, it was up to me to fight, but deep down inside, I knew how tough the fight would be.”

I concede that my opinion of L.A. had improved somewhat by the time I headed home. The splendid fight was a big part of it. In what was probably a case of repressed memory, I don’t recall driving back to LAX. From then on when I visited the City of Angels, unless somebody else was driving, it was Uber, taxicab or shuttle bus for me.

TEMPORARY TRUCE

Despite the financial and aesthetic success of the first Mosley-De La Hoya fight, Mosley soon learned that beating De La Hoya did not make him De La Hoya, especially when it came to earning power and Q rating.

The negotiations for the rematch were painfully long and contentious, so Mosley stayed active with a series of relatively modest paydays while waiting for the big one. He successfully defended the WBC welterweight title with a trio of knockout victories over Antonio Diaz, Shannon Taylor and Adrian Stone. 

They were respectable fighters but not world championship material.

It was different for De La Hoya. Despite his loss to Mosley, Oscar’s popularity remained. After running over fan favorite Arturo Gatti in five rounds, De La Hoya won the WBC 154-pound title with a unanimous 12-round decision over Javier Castillejo.

De La Hoya and Fernando Vargas had a longstanding feud. (Photo by Chris Farina/Corbis via Getty Images)

His first defense was against archenemy and WBA beltholder Fernando Vargas, an opponent Oscar had sworn he’d never fight. Until he did. There was bad blood between the two and it was a fight the public craved, maybe even more than another Mosley-De La Hoya bout. The overdue grudge match was held on September 14, 2002, at the Mandalay Bay. It promised brutality and delivered. Oscar stopped Fernando in the 11th round, earning the vacant Ring title in the process. The only bummer was Vargas getting busted for steroids when his post-fight test was dirty. He was suspended for nine months and fined $100,000.

DOUBLE WHAMMY

There was a collective gasp from the crowd at Madison Square Garden Theater the evening of January 26, 2002, when Vernon Forrest knocked down Mosley in the second round. He decked him again before the end of the round. Shane, however, beat referee Steve Smoger’s count both times and went the distance, but he never came close to catching up to Forrest and lost the WBC welterweight belt by a unanimous 12-round decision.

Forrest was a stylistic nightmare for Mosley — twice. (Photo by Doug Kanter/AFP via Getty Images)

Surely Shane’s father and trainer, Jack Mosley, should have realized by then that his son does not do well against slick, defensive boxers. But money talks. Seven months later, Shane found himself back in the ring with Forrest.

The rematch took place at the Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis, where a crowd of 15,775 turned out, the largest boxing crowd ever in Indiana. No knockdowns this time. Forrest won a unanimous decision by scores of 117-111, 116-112 and 115-113. 

MOSELY-DE LA HOYA II

The long wait before the rematch was unusual, chiefly because there was money to be made. Somehow the boxers found one other again. It had been roughly three years between their fights, and the circus had moved to Vegas.

De La Hoya’s last fight at welterweight was his knockout of Gatti, so the Mosley rematch was for the Ring Magazine junior middleweight championship and the WBC and WBA 154-pound belts. It was held at the MGM Grand, September 13, 2003. As soon as the decision was announced in Mosley’s favor, the fight was instantly labeled controversial. 

The second Mosley-De La Hoya verdict was really an age-old debate about perception and point of view.

Was it controversial? Yes, but only in the way close fights are always questioned. Naturally, many people were annoyed about the decision, but nobody went berserk except Arum. He was like a wild man at the post-fight press conference, spraying outrageous accusations like bullshit bullets from an M60. It’s always fun to watch Uncle Bob have a hissy fit. It’s like fireworks after a ballgame.

De La Hoya brought his game face to the rematch but failed to sway the judges once again. (Photo by Chris Polk/Getty Images)

De La Hoya, a large bandage over the right side of his face, was obviously peeved, but more under control than Arum. “I will seek a full investigation on what happened … I’m happy to have the financial resources to put the best lawyers on this.” Of course, they were just blowing off steam.

(Photo by Chris Farina/Corbis via Getty Images)

Maybe they were barking up the wrong tree. The second Mosley-De La Hoya verdict was really an age-old debate about perception and point of view. Quality versus Quantity. These two ideologies frequently clash in the ring, and both sides have their share of winning and losing. They are essential variants of style, the give and take that molds the boxer.

The major difference between Mosley and De La Hoya in their rematch was punching power. De La Hoya never visibly hurt Mosley, but Oscar was shaken on three occasions, in the first, ninth and 12th rounds. He also displayed severe discomfort in the so-called championship rounds, grabbing and wincing as Mosley attacked the body. 

“I think my body shots slowed down his jab,” said Mosley. “He was afraid to jab because he knew I was coming back with body shots.” 

When asked about the scoring controversy, Mosley said, “I think [Oscar] is emotional right now. I don’t know if he will ever accept that he lost. All I know is that I won the fight. I’m the legitimate champion of the world.” 

(Photo by Chris Farina/Corbis via Getty Images)

There were approximately 700 credentials issued for the fight, and I might have given De La Hoya the verdict if I was sitting deep in the media corral. It’s up close where you can gauge the power and the pain. Fortunately, I was seated in the second row, directly behind HBO’s broadcast team.

All three ringside judges, Stanley Christodoulou, Duane Ford, and Anek Hongtongkam had the same score, 115-113 in favor of Mosley. CompuBox stats had De La Hoya landing 221 punches, while Mosley connected with 127.

“If it was an amateur fight, De La Hoya would have won because all punches are equal,” said Ford. “In pro boxing, harder punches are judged differently. A hard punch counts more.”

I can’t argue with Ford or his colleagues. I was almost as close to the action as they were and saw pretty much what they saw. But once the rows of media seats get into double digits, it’s tough to see the subtleties unless you have a TV monitor in front of you. Otherwise, you could easily miss the look on De La Hoya’s face when Mosley’s body shots connected down the stretch.

The HBO team all voted for De La Hoya, and they all were very close to the action. Preconceived notions can sometimes interfere with judgment. I’m not saying that’s what happened in the second Mosley-De La Hoya showdown. It’s just another example of what happens when a fight is so close people go cross-eyed trying to figure out who won.

AFTERMATH

Then, suddenly, it became tainted, the genie was out of the bottle. Mosley had been a client of BALCO, a California-based laboratory suspected of selling banned performance-enhancing drugs to top athletes. Shane testified before a grand jury that he injected himself with energy booster EPO and applied an undetectable steroid known interchangeably as “the cream” and “the clear.” No wonder Mosley was hitting harder than Oscar.

Perhaps the most bewildering thing about the second fight is that it is still listed as a 12-round unanimous decision win for Shane.

When a Golden Boy Promotions representative asked Keith Kizer, executive director of the Nevada State Athletic Commission, if there were grounds to overturn the decision, the answer was no. Kizer said the commission didn’t have the right to overturn the decisions because performing-enhancing drugs (PEDs) were not banned until 2005. Boxing bureaucracy strikes again.

It’s only natural for people to get bent out of shape when a boxer is caught using PEDs, but it’s been going on for decades and there has been little or no success in curbing their use. Yes, it’s cheating, but this is boxing, an outlaw activity from birth. What else can we expect?

To a certain extent, people have become accustomed to fighters testing dirty. They shrug their shoulders and roll their eyeballs, especially if one of their favorites is the guilty party. I believe this “who cares?” attitude helped Mosley keep most of his fans after the BALCO scandal.

Mosley, along with fellow hall of famer Bernard Hopkins, later teamed up with De La Hoya as partners in Golden Boy Promotions. (Photo by Ethan Miller/Getty Images)

It’s been said the first fight was like Mickey Ward and Gatti at a higher skill level. It’s an interesting comparison but a bit of a stretch. The first Mosley-De La Hoya fight was exceptional. Ward-Gatti was insane.

Like a scab that won’t heal, the BALCO incident sullied a great fight. There is no getting around it. PEDs have attached themselves to boxing like barnacles to the bottom of a boat. It’s not going away.

De La Hoya fought six more times after the second Mosley match, going three and three. Oscar was a rare superstar who would fight anybody, which he did right up until the end. He never ducked anyone. His heart was bigger than his well-publicized demons. He also could be brutally honest about himself. Asked when he knew Manny Pacquiao was going to be a problem, Oscar said, “It was my first sparring day. When I was receiving punishment from my sparring partners.” 

Mosely had 19 fights after the second De La Hoya bout, retired in 2016 and was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 2020. In the race to Canastota, Oscar finally beat Shane. The Golden Boy was inducted in 2014.

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