GOLDEN BOY\Aragon had nickname - and impact on boxing - long before De La\Hoya.

Byline: Michael Rosenthal

An evening with the Golden Boy - the original Golden Boy - was a laugh a minute.

That is, until the subject of Oscar De La Hoya came up, at which time Art Aragon's perpetual jocularity disappeared for a moment and he made a serious point.

"He's not that good," the trim 67-year-old said as he chomped on a steak at a restaurant near his home in Northridge. He then stopped himself and modified his statement.

"He's not that good yet," Aragon said before his smile returned and he reverted to light-hearted mode. ". . . Then again, with the money he's making, he can call himself anything he wants."

Not a lot of people may remember that De La Hoya, dubbed the Golden Boy after he won a gold medal at the 1992 Olympics, isn't the first with the moniker. Aragon, a polished fighter with a golden personality, proudly carried it with him throughout his own boxing career in the late '40s and '50s.

The nickname came from the 1939 film "Golden Boy," starring William Holden as a part-time prizefighter. Sportswriter Jimmy Allen was the first to apply it to Aragon and it stuck.

Some wonder whether De La Hoya has earned the right to borrow it.

"I'd hate to have him knocked around while he has the title Golden Boy," Aragon said, fearful that the pride of East Los Angeles might one day be exposed as overrated and sully a nickname that to Aragon is as precious as any tangible memorabilia.

In his prime, in a golden age of boxing, Aragon, a transplanted Angeleno, was a fine fighter. He was aggressive and fearless, he had a potent punch and he was a capable boxer, one of the best in a long-gone era of only eight world champions.

For seven years, he was ranked by The Ring magazine as one of the world's 10 best fighters in his weight class - lightweight and then welterweight. He was outpointed by Jimmy Carter in his only world-title bout.

However, it wasn't Aragon's skill that made him special. It was his charisma.

From the time he twice knocked out local hero Enrique Bolanos early in his career, Aragon was like a villain in a real-life melodrama: Los Angeles boxing fans loved to hate him.

When Muhammad Ali was a youngster in Louisville, Aragon was routinely belittling his foes and brashly predicting which round he'd score a knockout. And, like Ali, he was often right.

According to retired boxing writer John Hall, Ali owed Aragon a debt.

"Ali told me years ago that when he first came to L.A., he heard stories about Aragon and (flamboyant wrestler) Gorgeous George," Hall said. "Between the two he developed his swaggering, brash style."

It's no wonder that whenever Aragon entered a boxing arena, whether or not he was fighting, he was greeted with waves of boos, which made him feel good all over. Even today, when he thinks back, he laughs at his image.

"I loved it," he said.

And why not? The infamy turned him into a star - perhaps the biggest sports figure in Los Angeles when boxing was king and only the Rams competed for space on the front pages of sports sections. As he put it, "I owned this town."

The sportswriters loved him because of his inexhaustible supply of quips. Example: He had to lose a tremendous amount of weight for his title bout against Carter, which weakened him. "I was the the first fighter to be carried into the ring on a stretcher."

He also was a prankster. Another example: Before one fight-day weigh-in, he hid weights under his baggy trunks. Of course, to the shock of everyone present, he was well over the weight limit - and proud of himself.

And the fans who booed him in the ring were drawn to him outside it. On the friendlier, intimate streets of a smaller L.A., Aragon, much like a movie star, was mobbed wherever he went. He even did a few bit parts in films.

Of course, among his admirers were women - a lot of women, some of them well known. Mamie Van Doren was just one sex symbol linked romantically to the handsome fighter. He reveled in the fast-paced lifestyle, but it cost him a few of his four wives and time he could have used in the gym.

"I realize now it was stupid," he said.

Today, Aragon looks fit enough to step back into the ring. Only his gray, curly hair gives away his age.

He continues to operate a Van Nuys bail-bonds business, which he started "the day I quit boxing (in 1960)," and has done well for himself. He and his wife Billie live in a beautiful, spacious home decorated in good part with boxing memorabilia.

Of course, Aragon lives in relative anonymity these days but insists he's content. He's happy. And besides, he'll always have the memories - such as that day in 1957 when the fans who loved to hate him expressed their true feelings.

Aragon faced a prison term after he was convicted of plotting to fix a bout and was awaiting an appeal - the conviction was overturned - when he went to see the fights at the Olympic Auditorium. The fans, aware this was no game, gave him a thunderous ovation when they saw him.

Aragon's reaction? He cried. And the memory of that night has the same effect on him today. As he recounted the story at the Northridge restaurant, he put his knife and fork down and paused to gather himself. His eyes were filled with tears.

They loved him after all. And those who can remember when he owned this town feel the same way today.

"To me, there's only one Golden Boy," said retired promoter Don Frazier. "And that's Art Aragon. There was no one like him."

In other action: Of course, the Mike Tyson-Frank Bruno undercard on March 16 will be overlooked. However, it's a good one.

Quincy Taylor, who won the WBC middleweight title when he stopped Julian Jackson in August, defends against capable and once-beaten Keith Holmes; WBC strawweight champ Ricardo Lopez defends against hard-hitting Ala Villamor of the Philippines; and Michael Carbajal, who stopped Mauro Diez last Monday, and Melchor Cob-Castro fight for the vacant IBF junior flyweight belt.

Rabbit punches: A suit filed by Don King to clear the way for the Tyson-Bruno fight will be heard in federal court. The suit counters an earlier - and pending - suit filed by Lennox Lewis, who believes he should be fighting Bruno for the WBC title. . . . Dana Rosenblatt is off the June 7 De La Hoya-Julio Cesar Chavez card at Caesars Palace. Instead, unbeaten IBF bantamweight champion Wayne McCullough faces Jose Luis Bueno. . . .

Alberto "Raton" Jimenez and Miguel Martinez will fight for the WBO flyweight title on March 23 on a Forum-promoted card, the first in this year's KCAL series of Saturday night fights. . . . The Forum is trying to put together a big Cinco de Mayo card, including a rematch between Saman Sorjaturong and Chiquita Gonzalez, Mark Johnson against Robbie Regan for the vacant IBF flyweight title, plus Marco Antonio Barrera, possibly against Jesse Magana.

COMING UP

Tuesday: Danny Romero faces Jose Quirino in Albuquerque, his first fight since his shocking loss to Willy Salazar in September. Romero, previously unbeaten, broke his left eye socket in the bout. Also on Tuesday, in Mississippi, heavyweights Jimmy Thunder and Will Hinton fight on USA.

Friday: On ESPN, Paul Jones defends his WBO super welterweight title against Bronco McKart of Detroit at Fantasy Springs Casino in Indio. Also on the card, James Toney faces Richard Mason in a cruiserweight bout.

Saturday: On Showtime, Nigel Benn faces Thulane Malinga of South Africa for Benn's WBC super middleweight title.

ARAGONISMS

Art Aragon, the original "Golden Boy," has an inexhaustible supply of quips. A few examples:

On having to lose a tremendous amount of weight for a bout, which left him weak: "I was the first fighter to be carried into the ring on a stretcher."

On his knockout loss to Carmen Basilio: "I was so nervous. In the first round, I went to the center of the ring. I threw two left hooks, one uppercut and a straight right. And then he came to the center of the ring."

Add Basilio: "I was paid $140,000 for the fight. It cost me $150,000 to get out of the hospital."

During a paternity-suit trial in 1988, when Aragon was 60, a doctor testified that Aragon could not have been the father in question. Aragon jumped to his feet and yelled: "Your honor, I want a second opinion."

On his final fight: "My legs were gone. In the first round, I hit him with by best shot right on the chin and I went down."

On why he converted to Judaism: "I liked the food."

On his four wives: "I had a few wives. It's not whether you win or lose, though, it's how you play the game. I played lousy."

On the reasons he occasionally found himself in police custody: "I punched a cop. Petty things like that."

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(color) Fifty years ago, boxer Art Aragon favored a flamboyant style - in the ring and on the town. Myung J. Chun / Daily News Box (1) Coming Up (See text) (2) Aragonisms (see text)