Forget About De La Hoya and Whitaker Going Jab-for-Jab or Punch-for-Punch. They’re Going...POUND FOR POUND

Thirteen years later, trainer Lou Duva can still remember the flight. It was supposed to bring him to this Nevada city from Newark, N.J., so he could be in Pernell Whitaker’s corner for Whitaker’s crucial fight against Joe Belinc in the 1984 Olympic trials.

But the flight was late.

Too late for Duva to make the fight.

Too late for Duva to save Whitaker from defeat.

But, as it turned out, just in time to save Whitaker’s boxing career.

If Duva had gotten there a little bit later, Saturday night’s welterweight showdown between Whitaker, the World Boxing Council champion, and challenger Oscar De La Hoya at the Thomas & Mack Center might not be happening.

Because Whitaker was quitting boxing that day back in 1984. Discouraged by the defeat and frustrated by the politics he had encountered as he fought to make the Olympic team, Whitaker was going home to Virginia. Duva found Whitaker packing his bags.

“Don’t go anyplace,” Duva told him. “Let’s talk.”

Duva did more than talk. He got a tape of the fight, sat Whitaker down and hit the remote control--fast forward and rewind, back and forth--going over and over the fight, pointing out to Whitaker all the reasons he had lost.

Whitaker reconsidered. He unpacked his bags and went on to beat Belinc twice in the boxoffs to make the Olympic team.

Whitaker’s arduous journey from a two-room shack in a housing project in Norfolk, Va., to the high-rent district of the boxing world was back on track. Whitaker went on to win an Olympic gold medal in the ’84 Los Angeles Games, had a 201-14 amateur record with 91 knockouts, and is 40-1-1 as a pro with 17 knockouts and six titles.

And Duva, 75, is still with Whitaker, still prodding him when he needs it, still boosting him up and putting down his foes.

Asked the difference between Whitaker and De La Hoya, Duva said, “If you got into a fight in an alley, Pernell is the guy you’d want alongside you. Oscar is the guy who would hold your coat.”

There is no question that Whitaker has needed some prodding over the years. He has always been a reluctant warrior whose level of training has depended on the quality of the opponent. Tell him he’s fighting De La Hoya or Julio Cesar Chavez, line up the sparring partners and stand back.

But tell him he’s fighting Diobelys Hurtado and the best sparring partners in the world won’t motivate Whitaker. Against Hurtado in his last fight, Whitaker didn’t seem to get interested until he found himself losing on all three scorecards in the closing rounds. Only then did he come back to win on a dramatic, 11th-round knockout.

That is not an isolated instance. When he has faced adversity in the ring, Whitaker has responded. In a 1986 fight against John Montes, Whitaker suffered a broken hand in the fourth round.

When he returned to his corner, Duva asked, “What do you want to do?”

Whitaker never hesitated.

“I’ve got another hand,” he said. “I can dance for six rounds.”

He did, and won a 10-round decision.

Whitaker now shrugs off his previous difficulties and his sluggish performances.

“There’s no such thing as looking back,” Whitaker said. “This is a new day.”

But there’s no denying that Whitaker needs a reason to pay attention. He’s not an ardent boxing fan. He doesn’t like to watch matches on television. He doesn’t like to read boxing stories in the paper.

“Unless they are about him,” said his co-trainer, Ronnie Shields.

Whitaker claims he doesn’t even watch tapes of his opponents. He says he hasn’t watched a minute of De La Hoya in action.

“That’s what I have guys in my corner for,” Whitaker said. “That’s their job. If I watched tapes, they wouldn’t have anything to do when I come back to my corner. I could feed myself a bottle of water.”

Whitaker’s passion in sports is basketball. He loves to play it, watch it, immerse himself in it.

If he were 6 feet 5 instead of 5-6, would he trade his boxing trunks in for an NBA uniform?

“Absolutely,” said his co-manager Shelly Finkel.

But he’s not 6-5 and so Whitaker has had to raise his visibility with his fists.

And now on Saturday, he faces what is shaping up as the crucial fight of his career. That’s the way Whitaker is approaching it. Titles are nice. The money--a $6-million payday Saturday--is very nice.

But what Whitaker considers nicest of all is the designation as the world’s greatest fighter, pound-for-pound. If he can beat De La Hoya, that title will be Whitaker’s, along with the recognition that he has finally danced his way to the top of the boxing heap.

Duva, ever his defender, doesn’t think it’s fair.

“For 10 years, he has beat the best,” Duva said. “Why judge him on one fight?”

Finkel understands the reality of the situation.

“Pernell has never been a star,” Finkel said. “He’s just been great. Oscar has been a star.”

Here Saturday, Whitaker gets a chance to eclipse that star. For him, nothing could be better, except maybe a starting spot in the NBA finals.