`OLD MAN' TURNS CORNERSTONE : DE LA HOYA'S LOVE OF BOXING HAS BEEN RENEWED BY RIVERO.

Byline: Michael Rosenthal Daily News Staff Writer

A degree of panic set in after the John John Molina fight.

Oscar De La Hoya, one of the most talented young fighters in years, struggled through 12 trying rounds as the rough, crafty Puerto Rican held and butted and punched behind the head, anything to throw off his inexperienced opponent.

And as his fighter groped for ways to cope, De La Hoya's longtime trainer, Robert Alcazar, offered little help: Basically, he went silent.

When it was over, De La Hoya had won but it was clear something had to be done.

``(Promoter) Bob Arum called me and said, `The kid isn't learning enough,' '' said Rafael Mendoza, a longtime friend of Arum's and an astute boxing agent who has worked with dozens of top Mexican fighters.

``He asked, `What do you recommend?' That's how we arrived at Rivero.''

That would be the ``Old Man,'' Jesus Rivero, a guru as much as a trainer plucked from his comfortable home in Mexico after the Molina fight to give De La Hoya his post-graduate lessons in boxing and life, a move that caused disruptive friction with Alcazar but made De La Hoya a very happy man.

In the four fights since Molina, De La Hoya has evolved into a more polished boxer. He's more confident than ever and, not long after stating that he was burned out on boxing, swears his love for the sport has been reborn.

``Before the old man came along, my mind was on golf or whatever,'' De La Hoya said recently outside his Big Bear home. ``I was tired of boxing, tired of hearing about boxing. Now, it's a totally different story.

``I thought I was a complete fighter. He has shown me I have a lot to learn. I have years and years of learning to do. That's a challenge. It's like I'm starting boxing all over again.''

Rivero, a tiny man about 5 feet tall and a young-looking 66, fought as a flyweight in his hometown of Merida, Yucatan. When it appeared he was serious about it, his father, who had money, sent him off to Mexico City to study at the university.

``My father didn't want me to become a professional boxer,'' Rivero said through an interpreter in Big Bear.

Well, Jesus did papa proud. He studied law and philosophy, and ultimately earned a degree in history, a subject about which he reads avidly and writes to this day. He also refined his cultural tastes, developing a love for classical music, art and literature.

During down time in Big Bear, believe it or not, he occasionally reads aloud to De La Hoya and other members of his camp, who sometimes call him Mr. Miagi after the wise instructor in the ``Karate Kid'' films. And when they opt for video games or television, as they often do, he locks himself away with his books and music.

``The guy knows everything,'' said De La Hoya, who has been receptive to Rivero's efforts to bring culture into his life. He says he's reading ``Macbeth.'' ``And I'm not talking just about boxing. You ask him anything and he gives you a good answer.''

The less-refined art of boxing didn't escape Rivero during his college days, however. He found time to hang out in the gyms of Mexico City, sometimes sparring, sometimes conversing with the grizzled trainers, always absorbing knowledge.

It was then that he began studying fight films of such greats as Willie Pep, Sugar Ray Robinson and Joe Louis, a passion he has passed on to an enthusiastic De La Hoya, who watches and discusses them regularly with his mentor.

Mendoza, a close friend as well as a colleague from Merida, isn't comfortable with the term ``boxing trainer'' when speaking of Rivero, preferring ``boxing professor.'' And it fits.

``He's a perfectionist, an analyst,'' Mendoza said. ``He leaves nothing to intuition or impulses. Every move he makes is perfectly calculated.

Rivero got his first taste of training shortly after college, back in Merida. Mendoza asked him to take a look at a young fighter named Miguel Canto in the late '60s. The result? An enduring partnership in which Canto became one of the most successful fighters of his era, holding the WBC flyweight title for six years.

When Canto finally lost the title in 1979, fighter and trainer agreed to retire together. Canto soon came out of retirement but it appeared Rivero, who had worked with other fighters during Canto's reign, wouldn't. He seemed content living with his wife, adopted children and beloved cultural activities.

Over the years, Mendoza tried to lure Rivero out of retirement several times and finally succeeded before the second Humberto ``Chiquita'' Gonzalez-Michael Carbajal fight in 1994. With Rivero's help, Gonzalez reversed an earlier loss. Afterward, Rivero retired again - until one more call from Mendoza.

This time, all it took was a positive review of De La Hoya's character and a video of the Molina fight - Rivero saw enormous potential but considerable room for improvement - for Rivero to bite.

He joined the De La Hoya camp as a ``consultant,'' as De La Hoya's adviser Mike Hernandez called him, in preparation for the Rafael Ruelas fight in May of last year. And it wasn't long before he began to have problems with Alcazar.

Obviously, Alcazar, who had guided De La Hoya through his remarkable amateur career, had difficulty sharing his prize pupil. Worse yet, he might have felt one of boxing's hottest commodities was slipping completely through his fingers.

Instead of welcoming Rivero, Alcazar kept him out of the public eye. In the months before this fight, in which Rivero has worked alone with De La Hoya for the first time, Rivero cited a newspaper article in which Alcazar was quoted as saying he, not Rivero, had been working exclusively with De La Hoya.

Rivero drew his own conclusion: ``The guy's got psychological problems.''

``Robert didn't want to give me the liberty to train Oscar the way I wanted to. He put obstacles in front of me,'' Rivero said in a matter-of-fact tone.

``. . . He never even introduced me to Oscar. Even after a month, Oscar didn't know what my name was. He wouldn't let me instruct him in sparring, he wouldn't let me run with him to see what type of running he was doing. I couldn't teach him anything.

``Robert didn't want anyone teaching him, he wanted Oscar to himself. When the press was (in camp), he would introduce me as the cleaning boy or his assistant. You can only keep a secret alive for so long before it catches up to you.''

Alcazar, 37, said he feels no jealousy and never intended to come off that way.

He said De La Hoya offered proof of his value when his contract was renewed this year, a move many believe was made out of loyalty and Alcazar's genuine concern for the fighter. Hernandez said there's no better man ``to take care of Oscar.''

And as to the maltreatment in camp? Alcazar said he has respect for Rivero and, although they have different styles, believes the two can work together to build a better fighter.

``If he feels that way, it wasn't my intention to hurt him,'' Alcazar said. ``I introduced him to everybody. Maybe it's the difference in our ages. Who knows why he takes things the way he does?''

Still, Rivero had had enough. After De La Hoya knocked out Darryl Tyson in two rounds in February, Rivero met with De La Hoya and Hernandez to discuss the problem but nothing was settled. He then bolted for Merida believing his relationship with De La Hoya was over.

Hardly. In the past year, two things became perfectly clear: One, Alcazar, a former fighter who has a fraction of Rivero's experience as a trainer, ``had hit a wall'' in terms of what he could teach De La Hoya, as one member of the camp put it. And, two, Rivero was indispensable.

Soon, another phone call came, this time from De La Hoya and Hernandez. Everything had been worked out: Rivero would work alone with De La Hoya for the first time while Alcazar remained away from Big Bear for all but the final days of camp, tending to such details as coordinating sparring partners; Rivero would work the corner during the fight for the first time; and Alcazar, who also will be in the corner, would be forbidden to speak between rounds.

Satisfied he could do the job he was hired to do, Rivero agreed to come back.

``I'm here to teach,'' he said, ``not take anyone's job.''

Clearly, De La Hoya has strong feelings for Alcazar. He was carefully diplomatic when explaining the circumstances leading to the changes.

However, facts are facts. If it came down to a choice between Rivero and Alcazar, the decision wouldn't be a difficult one.

``Robert taught me so much,'' he said. ``It was just time to move to the next level. Everyone has their limits. That's when the old man came in. I have to learn, I can't stop learning. Then I would be more vulnerable to getting hit or being beaten.

``. . . That's why when he left (after the Tyson fight), he had to come back - no matter what.''

PROFILE Name: Jesus Rivero.

Age: 66.

Hometown: Merida, Yucatan, Mexico.

Occupation: Boxing trainer; currently working with Oscar De La Hoya.

Career highlight: Guided Miguel Canto of Mexico to the WBC flyweight championship in 1973, a title he held for six years.

Boxing career: Fought as an amateur (flyweight) and had a brief pro career before his father sent him off to school.

Education: Holds degree in history from University of Mexico; also studied law and philosophy.

Outside interests: The arts (including classical music and literature) and dancing.

Quote: On the strange combination of academics and boxing: ``It's not that strange. A lot of universities offer (soccer), basketball, baseball. Boxing is just another sport.''

CAPTION(S):

Photo, Box

Photo: (color) The experience of trainer Jesus Rivero(left) has proved to be a valuable addition to De La Hoya's corner.

Gus Ruelas/Daily News

Box: PROFILE (see text)