Big Bear Market

This is where it all began.

Supposedly.

Fernando Vargas will no longer talk about it and Oscar De La Hoya says he doesn’t remember it.

But back when he couldn’t seem to stop talking about it, Vargas claimed his hatred of De La Hoya, whom he will face Sept. 14 in a 154-pound title fight at Las Vegas’ Mandalay Bay Events Center, began on a snow-covered trail in this skiing/boating resort atop the San Bernardino mountains 120 miles from Los Angeles.

It was 1993 and De La Hoya, the gold medal winner from East Los Angeles, was a Latino hero to Vargas, who had learned his fighting skills on the streets of Oxnard.

Vargas, an amateur then, said he was doing roadwork when he bogged down in a heavy snow bank and fell.

When he looked up, his frustration turned to excitement. Here came De La Hoya, doing some roadwork of his own. Surely this rising star would stop to lift up a kid following his own uphill path.

Instead, Vargas claimed, De La Hoya took one look at him, laughed and continued on his way.

When the story was relayed to Robert Alcazar, De La Hoya’s former trainer, he reacted with a laugh, saying, “No, no, Vargas has it all wrong. What happened was, I was following Oscar on a snowmobile and, when I saw Vargas laying there, I ran him over.”

Whatever happened on that snowy road, it chilled the relationship between De La Hoya and Vargas and ignited a feud that has become the hottest in boxing.

And the fact that they are still here, still using the high altitude and wooded trails to prepare themselves for battle, has only intensified the feud.

Twice in recent weeks, they have crossed paths in their early-morning runs around Big Bear Lake. The first time the fighters, surrounded by their entourages, came face to face, Floyd Mayweather Sr., De La Hoya’s trainer, and Vargas exchanged insults.

Mayweather mocked the outfit Vargas was wearing, saying it looked like a rubber suit, commonly employed to sweat off excessive fat.

Vargas, noting that he was finishing his run while De La Hoya was just starting his, yelled back, “You’ll have to get up earlier than this to beat me.”

When they passed each other the next time, De La Hoya held up six fingers, his way of telling Vargas he will go down in six rounds.

It is difficult for the two men to avoid each other in this community of 21,000. They are living in gated homes only half a mile apart. They could almost practice their prefight stares by looking over their back fences.

But neither man is about to give up his spot in town. That puts them in the minority.

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After attracting fighters and trainers for a dozen years, the heyday of Big Bear as Catskills West has faded. There are more fighters going down the winding mountain roads in search of new training facilities than there are fighters coming up.

Trainer Larry Goossen is credited with starting the Big Bear craze. A member of the famed Goossen boxing family, Larry came to Big Bear to train someone who had no interest in becoming a professional fighter.

Steve Wickliff was a successful businessman in his 40s who loved boxing and wanted to play at the sport. He hired Larry, who set out to find a training site. Goossen looked at Lake Arrowhead and several other Southern California locales but wasn’t impressed.

Then one day, he got a call from Wickliff.

“Man, I found the perfect spot,” Wickliff told him. “I’m in Big Bear.”

Goossen had never been there. Wickliff loved the remoteness of the area and the fact Big Bear had a small airport he could use to commute to his business obligations.

Goossen set up his first gym at the airport in an unused hangar. Within six months, he had built a gym in a building a couple of hundred yards away.

Larry’s brother, Dan, began bringing up some of the fighters he promoted, including Gabe and Rafael Ruelas.

Soon there was a steady stream of big names making their way up the mountain. De La Hoya started using Goossen’s facility. Others who came to Big Bear included Lennox Lewis, Riddick Bowe, Shane Mosley, Vernon Forrest, Bernard Hopkins, Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales, Floyd Mayweather Jr., Johnny Tapia and Jorge Paez.

“It’s the seclusion, the isolation,” De La Hoya said. “It’s not the same as before because everybody knows I train up here, but I can still relax and concentrate.”

De La Hoya’s presence at the Goossen gym came to an end in 1995 when he fought Rafael Ruelas. Two boxers dividing time in a small facility to prepare themselves for a blockbuster match against each other proved to be an untenable situation. The tension came out in angry confrontations between the two camps.

De La Hoya realized he didn’t need that. He bought property nearby and built a luxurious, two-story cabin and has added a ring, weight area and even a putting green. He also uses the facility as a vacation retreat when he is not training.

Others in the fight game, however, feel differently.

Emanuel Steward briefly established a West Coast version of his Detroit-based Kronk gym in Big Bear, but he soon abandoned it because he didn’t like driving the mountain roads and thought the rent for the building was exorbitant. The gym is now a skateboard facility.

Forrest said he didn’t like the Big Bear area. Lewis complained of boredom.

Goossen himself moved away in 1998, tired of small-town life.

Goossen even debunks the theory that fighters gain endurance by training in an area where the altitude goes as high as 9,000 feet.

“The guys that are supposed to win, usually win,” Goossen said. “And those that are supposed to lose, usually lose. The altitude was a selling point, but it really only helps fighters get in a little bit better shape. If the altitude was really so good, if you get better and better the higher you go, why don’t fighters try to get on board the space shuttle?

“Really, the main advantage to Big Bear is getting away from family and friends.”

The Goossen facility has been supplanted by a fitness center in the rear, but it is struggling to find fighters. Vargas used to train there, but has opted for a private facility.

There are plans to build a new gym at nearby Lake Williams, but persuading fighters to use it could be a tough sell.

Jennifer McCullar, executive director of the Big Bear Chamber of Commerce, questions whether the influx of fighters has much effect on the community.

Kresse Armour, a City Hall employee, disagrees.

“It’s one more clean industry,” she said. “The fighters bring people who spend money up here. And every time Oscar De La Hoya mentions Big Bear, we should thank him. He lets people know about us.”

But whether or not the residents of Big Bear like having fighters frequent their slopes and restaurants and stores, it won’t matter if the fighters don’t like Big Bear.

Even Mayweather, De La Hoya’s trainer, isn’t enamored of the mountain environment.

“I’m a city boy,” Mayweather said. “I don’t like no woods.”

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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

At a Glance

OSCAR DE LA HOYA

Age: 29

Record: 34-2, 27 KOs

Title: WBC super welterweight champion

Trainer: Floyd Mayweather Jr.

FERNANDO VARGAS

Age: 24

Record: 22-1, 20 KOs

Title: WBA super welterweight champion

Trainer: Eduardo Garcia

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*--* Tale of the Tape De La Hoya Vargas 5-11 Height 5-10 154 * Weight 154 * 73” Reach 71” 15 1/2” Neck 16” 39” Chest 37 1/2” 42 1/4” Expanded 40 1/2” 31 3/4” Waist 32” 13 3/4” Biceps 14” 12” Forearm 11” 7” Wrist 7” 9” Fist 11” 21” Thigh 19 1/2” 13 1/2” Calf 12” * Weight approximate until final weigh-in

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