GOOD FIGHTER, BUT FANS WANT GOOD FIGHT.

Byline: KEVIN MODESTI

OK, maybe they weren't saying ``boo,'' maybe they were saying ``Juuuulio,'' in honor of challenger Julio Gonzalez and his incredible magnetic chin.

But there could be no mistaking the whistles, the international audible signal of a sporting crowd's displeasure, and no doubt Saturday night at Staples Center that they were directed at Roy Jones Jr.

It only goes to show the snappiest left hook in the world is no match for human nature.

Listen, Roy Jones might be the greatest boxer going, a rating he did nothing to disprove as he dominated his willing opponent en route to a 12- round victory by unanimous decision.

But for the 20,409 in attendance, the question wasn't whether Jones is a great fighter, it was whether this was a great fight.

Fans judge fighters over the long haul, by weighing an accumulation of evidence, and a 46-fight record blemished only by a disqualification loss is powerful evidence.

They judge fights, though, in the heat of the moment. They want action, sound, fury. Blood is a nice bonus.

They don't pay to cheer an accumulation of evidence. They pay for tonight.

I mean, does anybody doubt that boxing is put on for the visceral thrill of the show, not for the benefit of the few ivory-tower types who hunch over ring-record books and churn out those pound-for-pound lists?

If we're supposed to judge the quality of fights by adding up the career achievements of the contestants, then how about the extra-curricular entertainment that swirls about these most shameless entertainment promotions? While we're at it, let's see the round-card girls' credits.

Jones, the world light heavyweight champion, pocketed $1.5 million for this fight, plus a cut of the pay-per-view take. For a payday like that, a man has to do whatever he can to avoid getting booed.

He is boxing's Maurice Green, its Lance Armstrong, its Barry Bonds. People pay big money to watch him perform. This time, it was $39.95 for the TV show, $25-$500 in person.

Too often what they get is Greene running to the corner to pick up a gallon of milk, Armstrong pedaling the stationary bike, Bonds bunting.

Jones is what you would call a scientific fighter, while his opponent Saturday is an action fighter. The question was whether Gonzalez could bring out the brawler in the champ.

Jones raised hope by knocking Gonzalez down in the first round. Jones often knocks his opponents down early. Maybe, this time, he would try to end the fight early.

But Jones then settled into an equally familiar routine, in which he is too content to try to catch his man coming in, too delighted with his ability to dodge punches.

``I wasn't trying to finish him off,'' Jones said afterward, expressing his usual caution against wading in against a strong-armed opponent. ``The guy (Gonzalez) comes back, and he's stronger than when he goes down.''

Unfortunately, watching Jones play defense was like watching Mark McGwire work a walk.

Jones had a tough act to follow - the wild, bloody 12-round featherweight fight between champion Erik Morales and Injin Chi. More important, Jones also had a tough reputation to follow - his own.

By the seventh round, Jones had knocked Gonzalez down twice but his inability or unwillingless to finish with a bang was grating on the fans. The more they saw of Jones, the less they liked him.

He's a marvelous boxer, sure enough. What the fans want is a fighter.

He can duck everything but the boos and whistles.