Let's sit down and have a talk. Pay attention --- I'm only going to say this once. Take my advice. Don't bet the deed to the ranch on Sugar Shane Mosley to beat Oscar De La Hoya when they meet on June 17 at Staples Center.

"What's that?" you say, scrambling through his record, "He's undefeated with a 33-0 (31 K0) record!" Do yourself a favor. Make an appointment with your psychiatrist. Mosley's record has more wrinkles than a motel bed spread. Don't you know that the undefeated seldom win the big one? They freeze like a guy thrown from a horse in a buffalo stampede. Sure there are exceptions. Rocky Marciano comes to mind. But this guy's name is Sugar, not Rocky. Stalone is never going to make movie about a fighter called Sugar.

Unlike a happy memory, fighters wear out. Carrying the pressure of an undefeated record is like trying to keep a million-dollar figure. Sooner or later inflation sets in. Liz Taylor. Shelly Winters. Raymond Burr. Once trim-and-fit Marlon Brando looks like a piano.

Again, there are exceptions. George Forman has a lot of self control. But he never let it get in his way.

What I'm trying to tell you is that crossing a cow with a mule won't get you milk with a kick in it. In plain words, an undefeated record is not the mirror it's cracked up to be. It can be as deceiving as a peach with the prettiest pair. You expect Camelot and you get South Central L.A. Believe me, if you bet on a guy on the strength of his undefeated record you are going to get short-sheeted.

A lot of fans thought undefeated Billy Foxx was the greatest thing since shredded-wheat until he was tested by Gus Lesnevich. Foxx ended up like a pretzel in the tenth round. Chuck Davey's incredible string of victories ended when he fought Kid Gavilan, his first for-real foe. John "The Beast" Mugabi's 26 straight KO's against a bunch of cab drivers and window cleaners ran afoul of Marvelous Marvin Hagler's buzz-saw attack.

Hagler was navigationally confused against Sugar Ray Leonard, who ended his unbeaten streak and sent him off into the commercial land of TV malt liquor. Mac Foster was undefeated until Jerry Quarry cleaned his clock. Philadelphia Billy Arnold never lost a fight until Rocky Graziano knocked him senseless in his first real test.

What I'm saying is, don't buy drinks all night for the blonde at the end of the bar. She might be the bartender's wife. Be leery of the smooth talker who has a sure thing running in the sixth at Wood Memorial. Inflated records disguise their true worth when they come up against authentic legends of their divisions. Remember, jumping to conclusions is not as good exercise as digging for facts.

Look, if you believe the pre-fight prediction of Sugar Shane Mosley than you have to believe that Ted Turner made his fortune by picking pecan shells. What I'm saying is, an undefeated record doesn't mean beans unless the fighter has fought top opposition to get where he is. You don't build a house on an unsteady foundation. You don't blow up the harbor with firecrackers. You don't walk into the Mojave desert unless you have a map, a compass, and a canteen of water. Know what I'm saying?

Because we in journalism are always interested in the truth, I would like to offer you the benefit of my wisdom. In retrospect, Primo Carnera did a fine job tramping on grapes to make wine -- then he developed fallen arches. They polished him like a cuckoo clock from 1928 to 1934. They fed him a bunch of fry cooks until he looked as unstoppable as tomorrow. His first for-real opponent was Max Baer. It wasn't a fight it was a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Max couldn't stop laughing or he would have dropped the Italian Goliath 50 times instead of 11 times before the referee tossed him a life preserver.

His first loss to Felix Trinidad was a devastating tumble for Oscar De La Hoya, but at least he doesn't carry the weight of an undefeated record anymore. That's important in a big match. He's learned to shrug off the disappointment. Sugar Shane Mosley hasn't hit the hard wall yet. David Reid hit the hard wall at 14-0. It's called uncharted territory. The no-nerves putting stroke. Crash and burn.

The word "undefeated" excites the average fight fan. But don't you believe the travel poster about the swaying palm trees and the girls in sarongs running their fingers through your hair. You could be buying Okeechobee swamp land...Are you still with me?

Let me put it this way: Oscar is facing an unbeaten fighter in Sugar Shane Mosley. Oscar knows the mistake he made in the Trinidad fight. He fired Gil Clancey because of ill-advised stratagem. It wasn't Oscar's idea to run and hide like Dillinger on the lam. Gil Clancey was driving the get a-way car. Believe me, Oscar will be ready this time. Storms make trees take deeper roots.

Whoever said winning isn't everything hasn't met The Golden Boy. Winning is what Oscar stands for. If you can't stand for something, what do you win? Believe me, Oscar hates losing like I hate to sleep alone.

Since Mosley won his first fight in 1993, no one has beaten him. But who did he fight? Give up? I'll tell you who, carefully handpicked guys like Miguek Pena, Mike Bryan, Golden Johnson, John Brown, Wilfredo Rivera. Each man short of horsepower and long on exhaust.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Mosley will be a shave and a haircut. Like a bucking horse, he comes out frothing at the mouth and he doesn't let up until they lasso him and drag him back to the chute. De La Hoya belongs to a different union. He takes time off and wants to get paid for it. He tries to impress with last minute flurries. He didn't need boxing gloves against Trinidad, simply track shoes. If he tries to do this with Pomona's finest, he will be climbing around on the canvas like a guy laying carpet.

But he won't. Trust me.

Mosley says he found it impossible to find "name" opponents as IBF ightweight king. His eight defenses, all by knockouts, included former champs Juan Molina and James Leija, brought out of mothballs to butter-up his record. That's okay, they all do that. It's a way of life in boxing. So Mosley moved up to the 140-pound division of the welterweights -- big money fight purses. A mine field strewn with the likes of De La Hoya, Trinidad and Ike Quartey.

In his only other outing as a welterweight Mosley took out veteran "Slick" Willie Wise in 2:28 seconds of the third. It was more like checkers at the firehouse than a fight. Cribbage in the park. Chess at the old folks home. The sport book at the Hard Rock saw the bout as about as one-sided as an argument with your mother-in-law. They had Mosley a minus 4000 favorite and Wise at plus 2500. It was even money that Wise would last 30 seconds shorter than the Gunfight at OK Corral -- which lasted 30 seconds.

After the fight, Mosley beat his chest and announced: I'm here. I'm real. I'm dangerous. Deal with it.

You have to wonder if Gil Clancey advised him to make the 12 pound leap in weight. From his training camp in Big Bear Mosley announced, "This is my natural weight. I'm not moving up for the money. I'm moving up for the glory."

Glory fades. It melts like ice in a glass of tea. Oscar's already tasted glory. He's in it for the money. In his old age he just wants to be a couch potato and watch reruns of his fights. Or to be read to ----from a bankbook.

These words of wisdom came from Marvin Hagler just after he started winning pro fights: "Security is what everybody wants. The main objective in boxing is to make as much as you can."

Still, Mosley says he's fighting for the glory and fighting in Las Vegas will increase his visibility. Okay, if money doesn't matter, then why not winner take all? It has long been the contention here that all purses should be split 60-40 with the lion's share going to the victor. Tell me it wouldn't make for better fights.

Mosley says, "I feel great now. I feel strong. I feel lean. Moving up was the best thing that happened to me. Physically, I am stronger than Oscar. Speed for speed, power for power, I think I have more arsenal than he does."

He points to the fact that he has already beaten De La Hoya once before. That's when they were amateurs. Sugar was 12 and Oscar was 11. If that doesn't break De La Hoya's concentration, nothing will.

A Bit About Bill Kelly