Oscar’s Dance Card Empty

The Golden Boy’s arms were lead, heavy and stiff, and worthless.

The Golden Boy’s legs were iron, slow and thick, and unable to save him.

But more than anything, the story of Felix Trinidad’s dramatic decision over Oscar De La Hoya for the welterweight championship Saturday could be seen in the final desperate rounds.

In the Golden Boy’s eyes.

Where there was once fire, there was only a dull bronze.

Despite his strong start, De La Hoya did not end the fight trying to finish his opponent like a champion.

He ended trying to escape.

He thought he did.

“I thought I won,” he said.

He was wrong.

And the judges were right.

The card in front of me read six rounds for Trinidad, six rounds for De La Hoya.

But the last three rounds belonged to Trinidad, and that is what matters in sports as in life, not how you start, but how you finish.

“I always said from the very beginning that I was the number one welterweight, and I was going to prove it,” Trinidad said. “I did tonight.”

And so did boxing.

A losing decision by De La Hoya in Las Vegas was thought to be as impossible as jeers for Sammy Sosa in Chicago.

This is home turf, with his home judges, and home fans.

And he knew it. From the beginning, he was trying not to win, but not to lose. Some ringside experts characterized it as fighting not for a knockout, but a decision.

In the end, it is that strategy, as much as any punch thrown by Trinidad, that beat him.

“Some people didn’t appreciate my boxing lesson,” De La Hoya said. “Next time, I’ll be a brawler.”

At least when the fight is on the line, huh?

At least stop dancing around and smiling deliriously and acting as if the fight has already been won when it hasn’t, huh?

Even up until the moment the winner was announced, with two judges going for one fighter and one judge calling it a draw in a decision that the announcer did not give away, it seemed most among the cramped crowd of 12,200 thought it was going to be De La Hoya.

Then when Michael Buffer uttered the words, “And the winner, from Puerto Rico . . . “

Talk about a place getting ready to rumble.

Trinidad jumped backed into the arms of his handlers with an amazed cry. Fans either leaped on each other in jubilation, or collapsed on each other in despair.

Through the confetti and crowds and utter horrid specter of Don King running into the ring, it was impossible to see De La Hoya.

That is the way it will be for a while.

He will disappear for a moment, Trinidad will return to Puerto Rico for parades and parties, and in their probable rematch next year, we will see who is who.

How will Trinidad handle winning? With Don King at his side, there is a chance that it won’t be pretty. But considering the impressive will Trinidad showed Saturday, maybe he can rise above all that hair.

And just how will De La Hoya handle losing?

That is a bigger question.

Every great fighter except Rocky Marciano has lost. Muhammad Ali lost. Sugar Ray Leonard lost. Thomas Hearns lost.

Losing is OK.

But will losing accompany learning. Will the comeback be one of greatness, or frustration?

“I love you guys,” De La Hoya said to his fans. “I’ll be back.”

Let’s hope he means it.

And let’s hope he fights smart for a full 12 rounds next time.

In the beginning, it seemed as though the fight would not last six rounds.

De La Hoya entered the ring under a blue hood, and with a glare.

Trinidad entered the ring in white leisure wear, with a straw hat and a sword around his waist.

He was accompanied by friends and flag-wavers and rap singers (this is a not a misprint, they actually rapped to the crowd before the fight) and everything a fighter would need.

Except for one thing.

He forgot his mouthpiece.

By the time it was retrieved, it seemed he was already behind.

De La Hoya came out dancing, and poking, and prodding, and dancing some more.

Trinidad stalked, and stalked, and threw a wild left, and stalked some more.

In the second round, De La Hoya popped Trinidad in the nose, some blood leaked out, and soon Trinidad’s white shorts were dotted with red stains.

Although De La Hoya never had Trinidad on the ropes, it seems he had him on the ropes.

And then he didn’t.

Trinidad hit De La Hoya after the bell in the seventh round, and it distracted De La Hoya.

Trinidad kept swinging at De La Hoya after the bell in the next couple of rounds, and the point seemed to be made.

By the 10th round, those splatters of blood had stained Trinidad’s shorts into a nice soft red. He was comfortable, he was in control, and Oscar could not finish this fight without pushing him around a little.

Instead, he ran.

Trinidad may have missed on some of his wild punches during those last rounds, but De La Hoya ran anyway, running and running while the crowd jeered and Trinidad stalked.

De La Hoya called it strategy. Others may wonder if it was something else.

We’ll all learn during the rematch exactly what it was.

But it was not the fight of a champion.

It was Trinidad who fought that fight.

It was Trinidad who deserved that belt.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.