Silent Partner : De La Hoya Still in Alcazar’s Corner (and Vice Versa) Despite Quiet Effort During Fight Against Molina

Robert Alcazar waits. His fighter is almost an hour late for his afternoon sparring session, and Alcazar can do nothing but sigh, and wait.

Robert Alcazar listens. His fighter is 17-0 and is a few fights away from earning a combined $10 million in his 30-month career, and Alcazar can do nothing but hear the shouts that he isn’t capable of being the lead trainer in a world champion’s corner.

“Robert is an amateur trainer; Robert is not a professional,” says Lou Duva, who was John John Molina’s trainer for his unanimous-decision defeat against De La Hoya in February. “I think Robert belongs, really, in the second spot (of a corner). I don’t think Robert belongs in the top spot.”

Robert Alcazar watches. Jesus Rivero, an elder statesman from Mexico quietly urged out of retirement to help Alcazar work with De La Hoya for Saturday’s lightweight showdown with Rafael Ruelas at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, is sitting 15 feet away, casually waiting and listening and watching too.

Finally, De La Hoya arrives, and Alcazar, Rivero and all the attendants and sparring partners swirl into action, because the fighter is here and there is work to be done.

Despite the attacks on Alcazar’s ability to refine his 22-year-old prodigy, will this be the way it always is--Alcazar and De La Hoya, who have been a team for more than a decade, working together toward championships and untold millions?

“There’s no doubt whatsoever,” De La Hoya said last week, a few days before he left for Las Vegas. “I have a contract with Robert, and even if I didn’t, I would still stick with him. Three more years, and that could be it for boxing for me.

“We’re learning together, as fights go on. I would say in about two, three more fights, we’ll hopefully be perfect.”

De La Hoya, who, for the first time didn’t stay in the same cabin as Alcazar at their Big Bear camp, also made it clear, however, that Alcazar’s mute performance between rounds during the brawling Molina fight concerns him.

Alcazar received blistering reviews both for his passive corner performance during a middle-rounds surge by Molina and for De La Hoya’s sluggish, mechanical response.

“I would wait for instructions, and he wouldn’t say anything,” De La Hoya said. “I would hear the assistant, Joe (Pepar), say things, but I would look at him, and Robert wouldn’t say anything.”

Those silent moments caused promoter Bob Arum and De La Hoya camp leader Mike Hernandez to persuade Alcazar that he should bring in Rivero as an assistant for the Ruelas bout.

“He pulled me aside and said, ‘I know I didn’t explain to you up in the ring. I felt nervous. I felt like if I was in the Olympics again, very nervous for you, scared.’ So he couldn’t really talk much. I understand,” De La Hoya said.

“He’s learning. You’ll see it for this fight. He’ll tell me more and explain to me more.”

Alcazar, a former fighter who started working with De La Hoya while he was employed at a factory with De La Hoya’s father, Joel, and guided the talented amateur through his 1992 gold-medal run, is unrepentant about the Molina fight.

“This is the way I am, and this is the way I’m going to continue,” Alcazar said. “During the fight is not the time to teach anybody in the corner. It’s time to support your fighter on your game plan.

“In our case, we’ve got seven weeks up here, doing the same thing, every single day. So what am I going to do in the corner?

“One of the (HBO) commentators was criticizing me because I was too quiet in the corner. They moved the camera to the other corner, and Lou Duva was ‘blah, blah, blah. . . . ‘ And then (the other commentator) George Foreman said, ‘All Lou Duva’s saying is blah, blah, blah. What he’s saying is not making any sense.’

“If you see my fighter losing a round, especially big time, and I stay quiet, that’s when I say, ‘Criticize me.’ I don’t accept it for this, because we were winning the fight. That’s all we care about--win the fight.”

Rivero, called “the Professor” by camp members, guided Mexican flyweight champion Miguel Angel Canto during his reign in the ‘70s. Rivero has been out of boxing for almost 20 years and poses no immediate threat to take over the reins.

Though Alcazar did not initiate the move to bring in Rivero, he says now that he supports it and is paying his salary to work as an assistant.

Rivero, according to Arum and Hernandez, has helped De La Hoya fight more fluidly--moving his head, moving from side to side and firing from the outside--instead of standing upright and presenting a target from medium range.

As opposed to the disastrous move in the winter of 1993, when co-managers Robert Mittleman and Steve Nelson forced Alcazar to split training duties with Carlos Ortiz, causing a revolt by trainer and fighter that ended in the firing of the managers, Alcazar agreed to Rivero’s arrival.

Still, Alcazar has fervently denied outsiders access to witness Rivero’s role during the workouts.

“We know he’s insecure; we know he has a problem with that,” Hernandez said of Alcazar. “He should be friends with (Rivero). He shouldn’t think they’re going to take Oscar away from him.

“Oscar can’t replace Roberto. Nobody can do what he can do for Oscar; no one will work harder to protect Oscar. They belong together.”

Alcazar clearly remains the lead trainer, and Rivero, though he will be in Las Vegas for the bout, is not expected to be in the corner. But any indication that the De La Hoya corner could be in turmoil has the boxing world intrigued--especially Joe Goossen, the only trainer Ruelas has had.

“It looks like the inmates are running the asylum,” Goossen said. “A lot of people have been telling me it’s a panic move.

“Hey, they were crying for me to go after Michael Nunn won the title. They all said Nunn needed to get somebody experienced. So I feel for Robert Alcazar, I do. I think it’s kind of a rotten thing. Robert’s a good guy and, hey, he started him from the beginning.”

Arum said Alcazar is comfortable with the current training lineup, and whether Rivero returns for future fights has not been decided.

“Robert is an excellent trainer, but, you know, he’s not Eddie Futch,” Arum said. “Oscar was not a fully polished fighter. There were a lot of things he was doing that were wrong.”

And through all the little spats and momentary tensions between the two, De La Hoya obviously is comfortable with Alcazar and is, after all, undefeated and improving.

Why do people insist De La Hoya leave him when so many other talented fighters, such as Roberto Garcia and, most recently, Carlos (Famous) Hernandez, come to him when they want to win championships, Alcazar asks?

“All the rumors come from people who have nothing, who don’t have a future in this sport,” Alcazar said. “They are jealous because they’ve got nothing.

“This is what I say: If all these people say that Oscar is green and that he makes a lot of mistakes, I say fine, I accept your opinions. But there are over 20 gyms in the Los Angeles area, full of young fighters. If Oscar De La Hoya is not enough fighter for you, go ahead and make another one.

“Why aren’t they making their own Oscar De La Hoyas? How come I am the only one?”

Clearly agitated, Alcazar brings up the name of Ignacio (Nacho) Beristain, the respected Mexico City-based trainer who some have speculated could be a candidate to replace him.

“If we continue getting these results, I see myself up there with any other trainer,” Alcazar said. “I beat Lou Duva, and look at the position he’s got in boxing. I’m going to beat Joe Goossen. And I hope I’m going to have the opportunity with the one who calls himself the best trainer from Mexico, Nacho Beristain.

“Everybody thinks Nacho is the best Mexican trainer. He’s the best for only one reason, because there’s nobody else out there.

“What I say is I’d rather have what’s in my bank account than have something on my wall. And I’ll take my bank account compared to Nacho’s any time.”