In boxing, one fight generally leads to another, bigger score

From Las Vegas — 

Into the Damon Runyon sport of boxing, where personality often trumps punching power, comes a fresh face.

His name is Nonito Donaire, and he is a live wire. He dispenses no one-word grunts, no cliche answers. He loves to talk as much as he loves to hit.

He will defend his WBA interim super-flyweight title, whatever that is, in a 12-rounder Saturday night at the Hilton against Manuel “El Chango” Vargas from Mexico. Vargas wasn’t the original warm body scheduled to go. That was Gerson Guerrero, also of Mexico, who actually had a world ranking in one of the alphabet-soup sanctioning bodies that have succeeded in making boxing so confusing to fans that they have been driven, kicking and screaming, to handball or curling.

Guerrero, come to find out, couldn’t pass the pre-fight eye exam. So, presto, there was Chango, ready to step in. Bob Arum immediately legitimized the new matchup with the mandatory promoter’s quote: “They tell me this Vargas kid is no pushover.”

Ah, but are those paying $39.95 for the Top Rank pay-per-view telecast?

Actually, seeing Donaire, a 27-year-old Filipino, on his way up might be worth it. There are eerie resemblances to the path taken to superstardom by that other Filipino fellow, Manny Pacquiao. Donaire even calls the road map he has laid out for the next few years his “Pacquiao blueprint.” That includes moving up in weight through several divisions and winning multiple titles.

Saturday night’s 115-pound fight is expected to be merely a prelude to the next fight, which often is what the sport is about. In boxing, the grass is always more fertilized on the other side of the street.

This one is all about building some interest for a rematch between Donaire and Vic Darchinyan. In the tiny weight divisions, there are few huge paydays, but Donaire-Darchinyan could be one. The elements are perfect.

Darchinyan, an Armenian headquartered in Australia and fighting mostly in the United States, was the feared champion. His boxing style and his personality made his nickname, “Raging Bull,” a perfect fit. So, on July 7, 2007, when he stepped into the ring for a defense of his IBF flyweight title, the “Raging Bull” was a 7-1 favorite against Donaire, who knew in that fight that he was merely “an opponent.”

In the fifth round, the “Raging Bull” took a left hand from the “Filipino Flash” and the lights went out. Donaire is now in the driver’s seat and an angry Darchinyan is trying to become bullish again.

Donaire sits on the throne and flicks away Darchinyan’s harping and verbal attacks as if they were fly specks on his sleeve.

“He is like a little Chihuahua,” Donaire says. “He is barking, barking all the time.”

Darchinyan turned up the volume this week in an interview with Ray Wheatley in the Australian magazine World of Boxing.

Speaking directly to Donaire in the article, Darchinyan said, “You’re a fraud and you are fighting bums. . . . I made you and I will break you.”

Donaire has a video loop that runs 24/7 in his gym in San Carlos. It is a replay of the left hook that sent Darchinyan down and out. It is both a reminder of what got him to where he is, and a daily mocking of the once-raging bull.

“The things he says, does are obnoxious,” Donaire said.

Donaire said that Darchinyan has a small window -- this year -- to fight him. He said he needs to move up in weight and divisions, and that his body can no longer easily get to these 112- and 115-pound limits. Both promoters, Arum and Darchinyan’s Gary Shaw, can clearly hear the cash registers ringing for this one.

Part of the problem in getting this rematch was that Shaw promoted both fighters in the first bout. But shortly after depositing his left hand on Darchinyan’s face, Donaire switched to Arum.

Shaw, outraged, said he would never let Darchinyan fight Donaire again because Donaire had been “disloyal.” That, of course, introduced an entirely new laughable image to the sport: boxers as boy scouts.

It comes down to the same old basic idea. The noise is out there. Lots of money can be made. The fight will happen.

We even have a suggestion for the fight title: Pipsqueak Power.

bill.dwyre@latimes.com