By Rick Folstad
Jesse James Leija is the kind of fighter your dad used to cheer for back when everything was still in black and white. Hard chin, good punch, big heart. He's no-nonsense, someone who comes to work and puts in a full day.
Against Hector Camacho Jr., on Saturday night in Brooklyn, Leija will be the guy who isn't wearing the funny-looking boxing trunks when he climbs into the ring. He won't be wearing silver bells or a turban or a robe that looks like it used to hang in Liberace's closet.
He won't be riding a camel or a zebra and he won't be carried in by six damsels dressed in white silk. He might wear a cowboy hat or a sombrero, but that's only because he's from Texas, and sometimes, Texans just can't hold it back.
Leija (42-5-2, 17 KOs) is the blue-collar half of this junior-welterweight fight, the guy who acts like he's from Brooklyn, but isn't. He's smokestacks and lunch buckets and 5 o'clock whistles. He's the guy who comes early and doesn't leave until the job is done right. He'll knock you on your butt if you don't show him respect, but he'll help you to your feet when you apologize.
Hector Camacho Jr., (31-0, 18 KOs) is a nice kid with good hand speed, great moves, and terrific genes. He inherited some of his father's special gifts, but unfortunately, he also picked up his father's sense of fashion. Junior is the flamboyant half of this fight, the guy voted most likely to make you shake your head and laugh.
He has his father's flair for the outrageous, for the madness that defines pro wrestling and has leaked over into the fight game. It's all about show business and Junior knows how it works, how to sell it to the crowd, ride it to the bank. You don't think the Camachos know how silly it is? That's why they do it. They have fun with it and they know you'll never forget the night you saw a Camacho enter the arena riding an elephant and dressed as a sultan.
In that way, Junior is like his dad. He wants to put on a sideshow just before cleaning your clock.
It's hard to say how his flashy act will play in Brooklyn, but the Camachos still have those New York roots and that's hard to forget if you're a New Yorker. Still, Camacho is more Circus Circus than Coney Island, more Hollywood than Flatbush.
Heading into the biggest fight of his career, Junior represents the future while Leija is the present and the past, a 35-year-old (he turns 35 on Sunday) who takes his day job with the seriousness of a shark attack.
He's a nice guy who's also tough and that combination is always hard to cheer against. He's a test for Junior, the first real test in Camacho's young career. We will learn a lot about Camacho in this fight because he's fighting Leija and we already know a lot about him. He's the guy who put on some great battles with Azumah Nelson, one of those fighters who the old timers still talk about with quiet reverence. Leija knows what it's like to be a champion, knows what it's like to be stung and still fight, what it takes to survive the championship rounds against the best fighters in the world.
Junior knows what it's like to be the son of a champion. He's the new sensation, the young kid with everything to prove and the tools to do it. He has youth and heredity on his side while Leija has experience. But sometimes, experience is enough.
The fight is being held in KeySpan Park, home of the Cyclones, Brooklyn's new baseball team.
Me, I'm picking Camacho but pulling for Leija. It's a sentimental thing. I like my collars blue.