Taking Flight

L-a-a-dies and g-e-entlemen! Welcome to the Julio and Oscar Traveling Circus. I’m your ringmaster, Bob Arum.

In the ring to my right, we have Julio Cesar Chavez, the greatest fighter Mexico has ever produced. Make that, the greatest fighter the world has ever produced. On June 7 at Caesars Palace, he will be competing in his 100th professional fight.

And in the ring to my left, we have his opponent, Oscar De La Hoya, the Golden Boy with the Olympic gold medal out of East Los Angeles. Unbeaten, unscarred and untouchable.

Step right up for the fight of the decade, the struggle of the century, the battle of the ages, the epic of the millennium. Bigger than David vs. Goliath. More vicious than Charles vs. Diana. Tougher than Leno vs. Letterman. Act now. Only 5 million seats left.

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It may be three months until Chavez and De La Hoya climb into the outdoor ring at Caesars Palace for what could very well be the best fight in the last 10 years. But the hype is well under way.

The Julio and Oscar Traveling Circus is a grueling cross-country tour by the fighters, who are conducting 23 press conferences in 23 cities in 12 days to promote 12 rounds of boxing for the World Boxing Council’s super-lightweight championship and a place in boxing lore.

Twenty-three times, before it is over, the fighters will have heard the mariachis heralding their appearance. Twenty-three times, they will have heard Arum, the promoter, sing their praises. Twenty-three times, they will have made the speeches, answered the questions, thanked the hosts, sold the tickets, signed the autographs, kissed the babies, waved to the crowds and disappeared in a fleet of limousines, headed for their twin jets and the next stop.

Not since the days of the Sugar Ray Leonard-Marvin Hagler fight in 1987 has boxing seen the like.

Arum calls this “the magical mystery tour.” But there is no mystery about it.

Although the 15,000 seats at Caesars have already been sold for the fight, there are as many as 6 million seats out there, depending on who is doing the counting, at closed-circuit venues across North America. In Los Angeles alone, there may be as many as six arenas showing the fight. And in an attempt to fill as many of those seats as possible, Arum has put together a promotional trip that would be the envy of any of the presidential candidates.

The fighters began in Los Angeles on Monday, went east across the Southwest, through the Deep South, up the East Coast and will make their way back across the middle of the country, finishing up in Las Vegas on Friday.

A reporter joined the circus for the first three days. Following is a slice of life with Julio, Oscar and the rest of the troupe.

ROUND 1, MONDAY

Los Angeles

Noon--At the Olympic Auditorium, where the lower stands are packed with fans, who were let in free, promoter Bill Caplan marches in, bellowing, “Let the news conference begin.”

12:01 p.m.--The boos begin as De La Hoya appears before his hometown crowd.

“Oscar De La Hoya lives among you,” Arum tells the fans. “He is part of your culture in Los Angeles. You should be very proud of him.”

The boos continue.

Caplan leans over De La Hoya’s shoulder and says, “There are only about 50 Chavez supporters out there. Don’t let them get to you.”

De La Hoya waves him off as if it doesn’t bother him, but it clearly does.

“It’s all jealousy,” De La Hoya tells a reporter. “I don’t get hit, so I don’t have any scars. Those are typical L.A. fans. They want a fighter who looks like a fighter.

“I’ve got my fans. They’ll be there my whole career.”

Does De La Hoya think that if he beats Chavez, a legend south of the border, the boos will finally turn to cheers?

“Nope,” De La Hoya says. “People will say the fight was rigged. A lot of people from the community I grew up in think I got everything on a silver platter. I worked very hard for everything I have.”

12:25--As the boxers, the most celebrated in the Latino world, address the gathering, a man moves through the crowd. Spotting a crumpled soft-drink can, he slips it into his briefcase.

It is Bobby Chacon, a former world champion himself and once the brightest Latino ring star. Chacon, who once sat in the spotlight now highlighting Chavez and De La Hoya, suffers from pugilistica dementia. He is punchy. He makes extra money recycling cans.

1:10--Chavez, several members of his party and publicist Debbie Caplan get into a limousine that will take them to the airport. Several admirers try to force their way into the car. With the help of burly security people, the intruders are finally ejected.

Caplan wipes her brow.

“No big deal,” says a member of Chavez’s party, a big grin stretched across his face. “Happens all the time.”

3--The marathon has begun. Each fighter has his own jet, supplied by Caesars, with his name on the side. The planes are identical, complete with carpeting, couches, plush chairs and seemingly endless supplies of drinks, sandwiches and snacks.

As the planes take off for San Diego, a pattern is quickly established. On board Air De La Hoya, there is nonstop poker, De La Hoya in the middle of it.

With De La Hoya on this trip are his trainer, Robert Alcazar; a nutritionist, Andy Shumway, and two of De La Hoya’s brothers. Although De La Hoya is clearly the focal point of this group, he does not play the role. He seems comfortable being just one of the guys.

He has been cheered from the halls of Barcelona to the streets of Manhattan, but De La Hoya remains shy and humble. It’s not an act. When the cameras are turned off, the humility remains.

On Air Chavez, there is a steady flow of music and conversation. Traveling with Chavez are his financial advisor and translator, Alberto Gonzalez; his trainer, two doctors, a brother-in-law and Lino Herrera, a singer back home in Mexico, who also doubles as Chavez’s photographer and court jester.

Chavez, a revered figure in Mexico, acts the part. No humility here. Sitting on a seat in the back, he clearly is in charge.

“He runs his own little kingdom,” says one of the traveling party.

San Diego

3:55 p.m.--The San Diego Sports Arena is nearly empty when the limos roll in. Because of a foul-up, there are no television cameras on hand. While the word is sent out, Chavez commandeers a limousine.

He and his party head to a nearby music store, where Chavez sends people in with orders to bring back CDs. Lots of CDs. On the way back, Chavez orders another stop to buy some lemons.

4:40--With the cameras finally on hand, the news conference begins. Arum says this event could be “the greatest fight of all time.”

Chavez, sitting on the dais, is glancing at a newspaper.

6--The planes are back in the air. The circus will sleep in Phoenix.

ROUND 2, TUESDAY

Phoenix

10 a.m.--Mariachis herald another day, another news conference, this one at a Phoenix hotel. A fan holds up a picture of Martin Luther King Jr. pasted on a fan. She gets Arum to sign it.

10:15--”I don’t think one of us is better than the other,” De La Hoya tells the crowd. “I think we are equal.”

It is a theme De La Hoya sticks to. He won’t belittle the man he admits was his idol. He shows Chavez nothing but the respect befitting a legend.

If De La Hoya maintains that attitude into the fight, the awe and respect may turn into intimidation, but De La Hoya insists it will fade when the opening bell sounds, that he will see only a mortal in front of him.

Chavez seems only too happy to play the intimidation card. He hardly speaks to De La Hoya, never looks at him and barely acknowledges his presence when the two pose for publicity pictures.

The message is clear. De La Hoya must prove he belongs on a pedestal with Chavez.

Albuquerque

1:45 p.m.--In the back of his plane, Chavez talks to reporters through an interpreter. He never lets his mask slip. His answers seem calculated to maintain the legend, both for his own sake and to keep De La Hoya back on his heels in the mind game being played through this tour. It may be months until the fight, but the psychological battle is well under way.

“I’ve never been booed in my hometown,” Chavez says when he is asked if he can relate to De La Hoya’s lack of popularity in L.A..

Although he obviously enjoys his regal lifestyle, Chavez insists he won’t miss boxing when he retires, either after June 7 or after one additional fight.

“I had everything,” he says. “I fought every kind of boxer. I have not been hit hard and I am asking God to let me not be hit hard in this last fight. I am not going to miss any of that. I’m not a selfish person. I don’t live for publicity or glory.”

Chavez admits he is ready to end a professional career that began in 1980.

“I don’t have the drive,” he says.

For the first time, Chavez shows some genuine feeling for De La Hoya. He remembers sparring with De La Hoya when De La Hoya was a teenager.

“I gave him some advice,” Chavez says, then adds mischievously, “but I did not tell him everything.”

2:15--In the news conference, at Albuquerque International Airport, Arum calls this “my favorite stop.” It won’t be the last time he makes that statement.

El Paso

4:30 p.m.--This is the wildest reception. Fans are lined up outside the Camino Real Hotel when the limos pull up. They rush the cars, acting as if Paul, George, John and Ringo were inside. De La Hoya is literally carried off by a sea of humanity, mostly female.

There are no boos in El Paso. Expect every closed-circuit seat in this town to be filled.

9--The circus tents come down for the night in San Antonio.

ROUND 3, WEDNESDAY

San Antonio

7 a.m.--As is his custom, De La Hoya is up early to work out for 90 minutes at a gym. Under the guidance of his nutritionist, De La Hoya has already honed his body into fighting shape. He eats only the healthiest foods, takes vitamins and engages in both cardiovascular workouts and weight training.

11--Chavez, who was checking out the night life the evening before, is 35 minutes late for a news conference.

No nutritionist for Chavez. His party brings fast food onto the plane. He may be in great shape by June 7, but he hasn’t started training yet.

Either that or he’s trying to make De La Hoya overconfident.

11:45--Rich Rose, president of Caesars sports operation, matching Arum for hyperbole, tells the crowd, “The Alamo was one of the major battles of the 1800s. This may go down as the battle of the 1900s.”

Dallas

4:30 p.m.--At the news conference at a hotel, Arum pulls out his favorite line. “The blood of the old Aztec warriors flows in the veins of these fighters,” he says.

By Arum’s accounting, the fight, which had been the third-fastest sellout at Caesars when the tour began, has now become the fastest. And the number of seats available for viewing the fight in the United States and Mexico, which had started at 4 1/2 million, is now up to 6 million.

9--A swank party for Dallas’ elite offers opportunities to take pictures with both fighters.

Among those posing is Shumway, De La Hoya’s nutritionist. De La Hoya tells Chavez the man between them is his nutritionist. Chavez looks up, smiles, playfully puts a fist on Shumway’s stomach and says, “You are strong.”

De La Hoya and Chavez both laugh. The mask has dropped.

But just for a moment.

Chavez is soon back on his pedestal, anticipating the day when there will be no nutritionists, trainers, managers, interpreters, promoters, reporters or fans in his way. There will only be he and De La Hoya.