Fernando Vargas' first professional bout after his epic war with Felix Trinidad was supposed to be an easy tune-up against journeyman Wilfredo Rivera. After all, Rivera's reputation was always based on the number of punches he could take, not the number he could throw. But instead of a confidence builder, Vargas got a wake-up call. 30 seconds into the second round of their bout, Rivera slammed his knuckles into the ridge of Vargas' jaw and sent the former world champion to the canvas in a heap.

Although Vargas beat the count and bounced some life back into his rubber legs, the damage had been done. The fact that Vargas turned the tide and made Rivera quit 10 minutes later is almost a footnote to the story of the night: Vargas may not have much left after his memorable battle with Felix Trinidad.

At only 23 years of age, with a mere 22 professional fights on his resume, the questions about Vargas' future have already begun. At various times in his return bout, Vargas was tentative, rusty, inactive, confused, and occasionally downright passive. His five month layoff looked like a five year sabbatical after only the first round. Vargas slowly approached Rivera holding his hands uncharacteristically high. As Vargas watched Rivera, and Rivera watched back, the two men engaged in a typical feel-out round, only without much of the feeling. Each man volleyed a few jabs in the opening frame, but did little else. Vargas' attempts seemed stiff and slow, while Rivera kept his hands mostly cocked as he watched Vargas' every move through wide eyes. We scored the round 10-10, which is really being too generous to both fighters.

The second round was continuing at a snail's pace until the aforementioned right cross caught a jabbing Vargas and put him down. When the blow landed, Vargas' knees simply buckled. On all fours, Vargas hung his head in place for a second before wobbling and nearly collapsing further onto his own head. By four Vargas had popped up, but his first steps sent him stunbling to his left into the ropes. Fernando finished the mandatory eight by jumping in place. He was hurt.

Despite the fact that Rivera's corner adamantly called for their man to attack, the Puerto Rican boxer took his sweet time. Vargas immediately fired a retaliatory blow, but Rivera countered with a left hook that caught Vargas' chin in the air and looked eerily like one of the deadly hooks Trinidad had landed on the former champ. Vargas backed off and tried to regroup. Standing at a distance from Rivera, Vargas seemed unsure of his next move. Whenever he threw punches, he ate punches... and the usually powerless Rivera was landing with some force this night. Luckily, Rivera never pressed the action. In fact, neither man landed a punch of significance until the final 30 seconds of the round, when Vargas again summoned the courage to lead, only to get nailed with another chopping Rivera right. Fernando did tag Rivera with a single left hook, but it came simultaneous with the bell, preventing anything other than a 10-8 for Rivera.

Vargas picked up the pace to begin the third round, but again found Wilfredo Rivera more than willing to answer every assault with one of his own. Vargas found some quick success by stepping into a few heavy jabs then pushing his big right across the distance. But Rivera would answer with a right of his own, each time making Vargas stop briefly in his tracks. Vargas may have been able to neutralize Rivera's returns by pumping his jab, but the punch was noticeably absent from his arsenal this night. Still, Vargas threw and landed individual rights and hooks in the middle of this stanza, and Rivera's delicate face began swelling this way and that. The right side of Rivera's mouth began to balloon in the round, a perfect match to the dark red mouse that quickly formed under his left eye. Rivera was getting caught because he was looking to land another perfect right hand... and waiting a bit too long. Luckily, Vargas' punches did not come in packaged in their usual combination gift set.

With Rivera's face contorting into a mess of cuts, bruises and bubbles, Vargas' job seemed much easier in the fourth round. Still, Vargas never seemed to find his rhythm. Perhaps fearful of another right counter, Vargas rarely jabbed with effectiveness. Most of his punches were one-at-a-time bombs. Many of them landed, but more than once Vargas missed and found himself badly off-balance. After one such miss, in the final minute of the round, Vargas ate another Rivera right hand. Vargas rushed at Rivera to grab onto his midsection, but Rivera moved back to avoid the clinch. Unable to grab on, Vargas' momentarily wobbly legs carried him straight back to the ropes. Rivera followed him, landing punches all the way. Despite Rivera looking like he had been in a car accident, he was again winning the round. Vargas drew Rivera into a good exchange at the bell (again), but it was too little-too late.

The pro-Vargas El Paso crowd had been pretty silent following the knockdown in round two. Perhaps they had exhausted themselves cheering during the Lazcano-Molina undercard battle, but more likely their silence was a reflection on the state of the main event. The fifth began as many of the previous rounds did: with Vargas looking tentative and unsure as he cautiously approached Rivera. By now, however, Rivera's left eye was giving him problems, and Vargas was able to land his bombs more often and more effectively. Despite offering virtually no set-up for his biggest shots, Vargas was able to crank Rivera with both the right hand and the left hook in this round. For awhile, not even this seemed like enough for Vargas. For each bomb that Vargas would land, Rivera would answer with three of four body shots of his own. Vargas' best moments were being overwhelmed by volume. But then, Rivera crapped out.

Despite holding his own with Vargas, Rivera suddenly lost his steam. Vargas pounded his opponent with a big overhand right. When there was no answer, he landed the hook. No answer brought another single punch, and eventually the assault snowballed into the first real Vargas flurry of the night. Rivera slumped onto the ropes under this barrage, but was saved by the bell to end the round.

The fight would end only a short time later. Early in the sixth, Rivera again let Vargas build some momentum with his power shots. There was a Vargas right, then a Vargas hook to the body. As the effects of that body blow rippled through Rivera's torso, another hook came up top, and now it was Rivera who suddenly was taking a knee and a mandatory eight count.

As referee Lawrence Cole administered his count, Rivera shook his head. He had had enough. As he stood for the end of the count, he signaled over to his corner that he could not see from his mangled eye, then covered up as Vargas was unleashed on him again. Vargas sensed that the end was near, but Rivera hadn't officially quit. So Fernando unloaded a sloppy barrage while Rivera's cornerman finally got the hint and climbed up onto the apron waving a towel. Rivera ate only a few of Vargas' punches before the bout was waved off, giving Vargas a KO6 in his return bout.

Certainly, Vargas has a lot to be proud of. He got off the canvas from a not-quite routine knockdown to stop Rivera faster than any of Wilfredo's previous conquerors had. He notched a win against a legitimate opponent less than six months after being manhandled by one of the sport's certain hall-of-famers. And he kept his composure at a time when his entire career seemed to be hanging by a thread in the second round.

But despite all of this, there are now more questions than ever about Vargas' status. It's one thing to be dropped hard by Felix Trinidad. It's quite another to find yourself seeing stars at the hands of Wilfredo Rivera. If Rivera can nearly kayo Vargas with a single punch, shouldn't DelaHoya be able to finish the deal? But worse than the knockdown may be the somewhat slow, often tentative, and downright minimal manner in which Vargas put together his punches this night. It's abundantly clear that Vargas needs more tune-up work before he again faces another world-class fighter. Perhaps an off-TV bout or two would be enough for him to work on the skills (notably the jab and combination punching) that were lacking this night. Or perhaps Vargas (now 21-219) is another Meldrick Taylor: a bright star who streaks across the sport quickly, but then burns out equally fast. Only time will tell.

Vargas had a difficult act to follow this night, as his bout with Rivera was preceded by an action-packed battle between contender Juan Lazcano and ageless workaholic John John Molina.

Lazcano was looking to replace some of the luster that he lost after getting a gift decision against Jesse James Leija some nine months prior. Molina was having none of it. Despite a 59 fight career and 36 years of age, Molina seemed determined to overwhelm Lazcano with punches much as he had Ben Tackie on the Lewis-Tua undercard. And when Lazcano showed up stiff, Molina jumped out to an early lead.

Lazcano didn't know what to make of Molina in the opening rounds. Molina peppered Lazcano with body shots and looping overhand rights, making the young contender back straight up in retreat. By not moving out of harm's way with lateral movement, Lazcano simply ate punches for most of the opening three rounds. Molina's blows rarely were thrown with power, but he repeatedly threw five and six punch combinations without any response... a surefire way to bank points with the judges.

Lazcano looked as mediocre as ever during these opening rounds. Under Molina's attack, Lazcano frequently backed himself into corners or allowed himself to fall into ugly clinches. Lazcano unloaded a few beautiful left hooks in the third, but compared with the endless stream of body punches coming from Molina, it was no contest. When you can throw six punches, land four, then clinch and begin again, you're going to win rounds. And Molina won the first three on our scorecard.

Lazcano remembered to throw his jab in the fourth and fifth rounds, and the dividends were paid out immediately. By jabbing, Lazcano suddenly found (surprise, surprise) that he could set up his combinations more effectively. Molina, who had been walking through Lazcano's shots, now began shaking his head after a eating a few hooks, especially a monster shot that landed at the very end of round four.

But as good as Lazcano looked in these flashes, he also left plenty to be desired. In the sixth round, Lazcano again forgot about his jab. Without a stick to get by, Molina was able to simply walk up to Lazcano and begin wrestling. So chaotic were the clinches in the sixth, that Lazcano soon emerged from one with a headbutt-induced cut on the inside corner of his left eye. The blood would flow periodically for the rest of the bout, a painful reminder of the importance of the jab.

Although Molina had been exceeding all expectations in the first half of the bout, he slowed considerably in the second half. Because Molina began coming forward with his hands held lower, Lazcano was more tempted to load up with big haymakers. At one point in the seventh, Lazcano simply loaded up everything he had into each of five separate one-at-a-time bombs. Each one bounced flush off Molina's head, drawing gasps from the crowd... but doing little to slow Molina's aggression. Lazcano opted for the home-run-swing-only offense again in the eighth, and the effort seemed to tire him. Time and again, Lazcano bookended these spectacular bursts of violence by laying on the ropes. The technique hurt him only a little against a pushing-40 Molina. Against a regular top-ten opponent, it would be another story.

Lazcano was finding Molina so easy to hit that he simply kept firing the giant bombs in the ninth round. Determined as ever, Molina simply kept coming forward, landing punch after punch after punch to Lazcano's left side. It was an admirable effort by Molina, but his volume punching was giving way to Lazcano's bomb-oriented offense on the scorecards, and the end was near.

Lazcano was tiring in the tenth round, although by now he had banked enough rounds to regain the lead. The two men continued their battle of attrition in center ring when all of a sudden, Molina was wobbled by a big Lazcano hook. Standing in place with his hands down, Molina took a series of follow-up hooks as he was driven into a corner by a surging Lazcano. Once on the ropes, Molina took even more flush shots without offering any resistance. Referee Jerry McKenzie was nowhere to be found. Molina eventually initiated a clinch, and when McKenzie pushed Molina back out of the clinch, the weakened fighter nearly tipped over. Eventually, the round ended... but not before Molina had taken an inordinate amount of unanswered punches.

Molina's corner had threatened to stop the fight after the ninth, so it was with some surprise that they sent him out again after the beating he took in the tenth. And then it got worse.

Lazcano came right at Molina to begin the eleventh, and was soon landing flush hooks at will on a defenseless Molina. Four such hooks rocked Molina at center ring, and again Molina retreated to the ropes with his hands down. Lazcano fired another flurry, and not even this new series of flush blows ended the bout. A weak Molina slid across the ropes into a corner, and while McKenzie now moved within inches of the action, he still did not stop the one-sided pummeling. Instead, McKenzie simply stood there in amazement at the beating he was watching. After what seemed like an eternity, Molina's cornerman jumped into the ring waving a towel. McKenzie had his back to center ring, however, and still didn't stop the action. Molina was out on his feet on the ropes, and Lazcano landed a few more blows. McKenzie made a half-hearted effort to get between the fighters, yet still did nothing. Eventually, Molina collapsed to the canvas. McKenzie appeared confused. He didn't begin a count or wave the fight over. He simply watched Molina's cornerman scoop his fighter off the canvas as Lazcano began to celebrate in an opposite corner. It was one of the worst reffing jobs of recent memory.

With this victory, Lazcano (27-2-1/20) now has a verbal promise for a bout against WBC lightweight champ Jose Luis Castillo. Mark our words: Lazcano will be torn to shreds. Castillo will destroy Lazcano if he starts this slow again. And even if the Hispanic Causing Panic can turn it up a notch, Castillo is no John John Molina. If we were Lazcano's manager, we'd aim for the B-circuit: a rematch with Leija and a title shot against light-hitting Paul Spadafora. Anything less will be a mismatch.

.....Chris Bushnell