Oscar De La Hoya Research Papers
Oscar De La Hoya research paper due and don’t know how to start it? How about like this?
Oscar De La Hoya was not inclined to be a boxer. As a child he was a gentle being who turned away from violence; yet, his life led him into the boxing ring. Each time this young man, of Mexican-American decent walks through a crowd to go to work, he carries with him the weight of representing two nations. De La Hoya was not appointed this tremendous responsibility – he volunteered for it out of the love he held in his heart for the two countries that had made him what he is today. However, with this decision came controversy. There was condemnation by some, along with an expectation for De La Hoya to never falter at being the best. In the ring his record indicates that he is just that – the best boxer of his generation. But the question remains: In life, as well as in his self-appointed role as, “ambassador”, has he made a lasting impact on the Mexican-American community, and on the world?
“Oscar De La Hoya used to run home crying. He would go immediately to his room in his East Los Angeles home to soothe his shame and conceal his tears. He didn’t want his father – Joel De La Hoya, a former professional boxer from Durango, Mexico – to see him fleeing in fear of another boy’s punches…"
- Oscar De La Hoya was the placid son of Joel and Cecilia De La Hoya
- De La Hoya came from Mexican immigrants who struggled to raise a family in California
- Born February 4, 1973, De La Hoya was a quiet child who often survived hunger with the aid of food stamps
- He was repeatedly the target of bullies in his early years at school
De La Hoy’s boxing career began early. In an effort to teach Oscar how to protect himself against the bigger boys at school, Oscar’s father forced him to take boxing lessons at the local gym.
“I was 5 when I first saw boxing gloves…My brother, Joel, Jr., put a pair on me and the other pair on one of my cousins”, Oscar Recalled. “Then he yelled, ‘Time!’ Immediately, I covered my cheeks with the gloves.” He laughed at the memory. “The next thing-wham-the-first-punch thrown is a left jab that goes between the gloves and lands smack on my nose…”