LAS VEGAS -- Oscar De La Hoya didn't need this at this point in his life.

He didn't need the roadwork, the training, the detractors, or more importantly, the punches. And after years of animosity, he certainly didn't need a grudge match with not only a fellow Californian, but another Mexican-American.

	Who De La Hoya (left) fights next is a big deal.

But after 11 rounds that cemented De La Hoya's place in Canastota, it was never more evident that what the "Golden Boy" needed for his sizeable legacy was a push that no one but Fernando Vargas could give him.

Too weak, they said.

After peppering Vargas cleanly with right hands that most critics said he didn't have, De La Hoya finally landed his patented left hook late in the 10th round. Vargas staggered, and a round later, that same left hook sent him to the canvas.

The fight was over seconds after Vargas rose, and while most talk will center on De La Hoya's deceptive power at 154 pounds, his strength manifested itself in ways that won't show up on an opponent's face or jaw.

Fernando Vargas dwarfed De La Hoya in size. He was much stronger than the man who began his career at 130 pounds, and that was apparent when "El Feroz" bullied De La Hoya into the ropes in the first round, and raised a welt under his eye with two left hooks.

In fact, whenever Vargas had his opponent near the ropes, he had his way with him and the fight's conclusion seemed to be a punch or two away.

"He might quit," yelled Vargas' corner after a particularly effective round by the Oxnard, Calif., native. Even De La Hoya's corner seemed a bit out of sorts with the situation in the ring. And after five rounds, there was cause for concern -- in everyone's eyes but the fighter's.

And De La Hoya wouldn't go away.

Vargas brought Julio Cesar Chavez to the ring with him to lend moral support. De La Hoya may have brought his own Mexican legend with him into the Mandalay Bay ring, in the form of the late featherweight great Salvador Sanchez.

Sanchez never fought with the blood-and-guts style that fits the stereotype given to Mexican fighters. He boxed with style and grace. He also never backed down from a fight.

De La Hoya wouldn't back down either.

No, he didn't stand toe-to-toe in a wau that would have pleased everyone in Vargas' corner, but he fought smartly, owning the middle of the ring, and making his presence known with jabs, hooks to the body, and stiff right hands. De La Hoya's power showed on the marks that covered Vargas' face, marks worn proudly by a self-proclaimed 'Aztec Warrior'.

"The Golden Boy" bore his own scars of battle -- a mouse under his right eye, and a bloody nose that gave him trouble from the time it started bleeding. In the past, De La Hoya shied away from battle once the walls of ego surrounding his face were breached.

Not this Saturday night.

Because while many saw the marks on his movie-star handsome face as out of place, remember that Oscar De La Hoya is no movie star. He's no singer, and no ad pitchman. He's a fighter. Since he was barely out of his toddler years, and through controversies and mega-fights, losses and wins, he's still here. Singers may sing, but fighters fight.

De La Hoya is a fighter, and in a career of big fights, this was the capper. The glimpses of his warrior spirit, seen briefly in fights with Ike Quartey and Felix Trinidad, made an appearance for ten-plus rounds before a world boxing audience starving for a fight to remove the bad taste of Lewis-Tyson from it's palate.

Too small, too timid, too cool, they said. They were wrong.