And in This Corner . . . : It’s East Los Angeles Versus the San Fernando Valley, It’s Friend Versus Neighbor, but Most of All It’s De La Hoya Versus Ruelas That Sparks Debate

At a crowded Mexican fast-food restaurant in East Los Angeles, boxing discussions often become as heated as the sun beating down on the canopy.

That has been particularly true lately as diners sit shoulder to shoulder and analyze the May 6 title fight in Las Vegas between Oscar De La Hoya and Rafael Ruelas.

De La Hoya, who grew up a few blocks away, often dines at the restaurant when not in training, and, naturally, most of the discussion favors him. But, occasionally, someone from another part the city comes in and. . . .

“Once in a great while, I get into it with some of the customers who say something bad about Oscar,” said Adeline (Lupe) Portillo, the owner of the restaurant on Third Street.

“The others here have to tell me to calm down.”

In Los Angeles, the boxing world finds two young and charismatic Latino boxers poised to claim each other’s most prized possessions, their titles, in a heavyweight of a lightweight bout if there ever was one.

From one part of the city comes the 22-year-old De La Hoya, World Boxing Organization champion from East Los Angeles. From another comes the 24-year-old Ruelas, International Boxing Federation champion from the San Fernando Valley.

As the conventional wisdom regarding the fight would have it, Latino boxing fans are divided in their loyalties somewhere around the Harbor Freeway.

But that is not necessarily true. Even in the heart of the Eastside, there are those who pledge allegiance to Ruelas because he was born in Mexico. And in the Valley, especially around the white-collar business hubs of Ventura Boulevard and Warner Center, some favor L.A. native De La Hoya, who won an Olympic gold medal for the United States in 1992.

“Ruelas has a fan base of Mexican nationals and people who saw him fight in the Valley at the (Reseda) Country Club,” said Peter Broudy, who promotes monthly fights in Woodland Hills and has an office at the Brooklyn Gym in Boyle Heights. “Oscar is more the U.S. golden boy. He’s the idol of a lot of kids, and the women love him.”

De La Hoya’s hold on East L.A. is stronger than Ruelas’ in the Valley. When Ruelas was introduced to the crowd attending De La Hoya’s bout against John Avila last summer at the Grand Olympic Auditorium, a chorus of boos chased him back into his seat.

De La Hoya was introduced to the sport at age 6, when when his professional boxer father, Joel, a native of Durango, Mexico, took his son to a gym in East Los Angeles. Oscar accompanied his father there every day to train.

Despite the constant presence of gangs and urban warfare in an Eastside neighborhood that law enforcement officials call “one of the toughest in this part of town,” De La Hoya stayed with boxing and, at 10, won his first national title.

In 1992, he was the only American to win a gold medal in boxing at the Summer Olympics in Barcelona. There, he might have won the heart of America, but he was always a favorite in East Los Angeles, where many of his fans are fifth-generation Latinos who have grown up watching thousands of young men attempt to use boxing as a vehicle to pursue glory. Or at least escape gang life.

“These are the toughest neighborhoods,” said Johnny Martinez, a Garfield High baseball player. “East L.A. is where the best fighters come out of. They grow up on the streets and come out tougher.”

De La Hoya, who attended Garfield High, even enjoys support among rival Roosevelt High graduates.

“I don’t really like Oscar De La Hoya, but he is from the ‘hood,” said Pete Zuniga, 23. “We need someone like him. He makes us look good.”

Ruelas lived until he was 7 in Yerba Buena, Mexico, a remote village high in the mountains of the state of Jalisco, near Guadalajara.

He and his 13 siblings, including older brother Gabriel, the World Boxing Council super-featherweight champion, spent long hours working on their parents’ ranch until moving to the United States in 1979.

The family came to North Hollywood before splitting up to live in several homes around Pacoima, Mission Hills and Sylmar.

Rafael and Gabriel, skinny as ring ropes, were introduced to boxing by tagging along with their older brother, Juan, who trained briefly at the Ten Goose Gym in North Hollywood.

Ruelas graduated from North Hollywood High, but his fame has eluded the school. A call to the counseling office this week was answered by a clerk, who said she had heard of De La Hoya but not Ruelas.

“Was he in sports here?” she asked.

“I don’t even know when he went here,” said Dave Smith, an assistant principal at North Hollywood. “How bad is that?”

Typical. Ruelas is the lesser known of the two champions even in his own neighborhood.

“I don’t think Rafael has captured his area of Los Angeles the way Oscar has,” said Pat Goossen, a boxing trainer whose sons attended North Hollywood with the Ruelas brothers. “He was never billed as a Valley fighter. He’s more of a transplant (from Mexico).”

That is precisely the reason he is popular with his fans in sections of the East Valley where there as many street signs and billboards in Spanish as in English.

“If you ask a Mexican from Mexico who they go for, they go for Rafael,” said Eleno Pena, the manager of a restaurant and deli on Van Nuys Boulevard in Pacoima. “De La Hoya is a good fighter, but he is a pretty boy, the golden boy who has everything going for him.”

Socorro Renteria, the manager of a Pacoima diner frequented by Ruelas, said: “When he fights, I have no business. Everybody is somewhere watching the fight.”

Ruelas is portrayed by his Mexican fans as a young man much like themselves--one whose family came to California in search of a better life.

“He’s like Fernando Valenzuela, a poor kid who came up playing on dirt fields,” said Jesse Ojeda, a 22-year-old Cal State Northridge student. “Mexicans can relate to Rafael because he is living their dream.”

De La Hoya is no less dear to his fans on the Eastside. Art Frias, a former lightweight champion, grew up in Boyle Heights and, like De La Hoya, started boxing in the Resurrection Church gym. He won his title in 1981 and held it until he lost a go-for-broke brawl against Ray (Boom Boom) Mancini in May of ’82.

Frias is not fond of De La Hoya’s relatively cautious boxing style, but he considers the champion the next best thing to a relative.

“Because he represents East L.A., I want him to win,” said Frias, who trains fighters in El Paso. “He is a good role model.”

But he is not a unanimous choice, even in his own neighborhood.

“De La Hoya is a pretty good fighter, but the other guy is better,” said Enrique Avendano, an Eastside restaurant cook who is a native of Mexicali, Mexico. “Mexican fighters are better.”

Other fight fans from the barrio feel De La Hoya has been protected and pampered.

Broudy guesses that most of his clientele is backing Ruelas, who broke in as a professional when many of the same fans used to attend monthly cards at the Reseda Country Club.

“In the Valley, Rafael is probably the favorite,” Broudy said. “But not by a lot.”

Around the East Valley and in East L.A., bright yellow posters promoting the fight have been placed in smoke-filled pool halls, shop windows and restaurants.

Estimates on the gross from the pay-per-view audience alone have reached as high as $20 million.

At Ceasar’s Palace, Ruelas is expected to have a slight edge in fan support because the fight is scheduled for Cinco de Mayo weekend, when thousands of Mexicans routinely stream into Las Vegas to celebrate.

“This is one of the best fights for boxing in a long time,” Broudy said. “Everybody in boxing locally is talking about it. This brings back the days when you used to have cross-town rivalries.

“They’re both good kids. I just hope it’s a good fight so there will be a rematch.”

Jesse Ojeda, the Northridge student, agreed. Although Ruelas is a former neighbor and a friend, Ojeda has another friend, a fraternity brother, who is De La Hoya’s cousin.

Both Ojeda and his friend are going to Las Vegas for the fight.

They will not sit together. However, they do plan to meet around midnight.

“Either way, we’re going to celebrate,” Ojeda said. “Either way, there will be a great champion.”