There is a heaviness to Bob Arum these days, to his walk and his voice, as if a cassette recording was just a touch low on juice.
On Monday, he was at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown L.A., doing what he has done since 1965, trying to sell tickets and pay-per-view buys for a boxing card.
This one features Julio Cesar Chavez Jr., and two other title fights in Anaheim on Dec. 4.
"And, don't forget, we've priced these seats right because of the way the economy is," Arum said, dutifully rasping into the microphone. "Almost every seat will be either $50 or $30. So I think it's going to be a great crowd and a great night of boxing."
Arum had a decent audience in the ballroom, but not like the old days. No longer does every major newspaper in the nation employ a full-time boxing writer. It is a website-media sport now. ESPN, which sets the agenda that most sports editors heed, basically ignores boxing.
There are two real stars now, and thanks to Floyd Mayweather Jr.'s erratic and allegedly lawless behavior, they are not scheduled to meet.
The other is Manny Pacquiao.
He will fight Antonio Margarito in Cowboys Stadium on Nov. 13. That fight, although not Pacman-Mayweather, was significant enough to prompt the requisite 24/7 preview series from HBO, and a nationwide media tour, just like the old days.
The tour began at the Beverly Hills Hotel on Aug. 31.
Two days before, someone at Top Rank, Arum's promotional company, took a call from Seattle.
It was a Monday, and the news was that John Arum, Bob's 49-year-old son, had been missing all weekend.
He was an environmental attorney, and he had been climbing Storm King, in his campaign to climb the 100 tallest mountains in the state of Washington. Sunday was his 11th wedding anniversary.
The Top Rank employee who took the call went to Bruce Trampler, the company's matchmaker.
"We're going to have to take care of The Chief," Trampler said.
Through the shock, Arum kept asking two questions. What's the best-case scenario? What's the worst-case scenario? He was told that John might have gotten hurt and was waiting for help. That was the best case.
Arum immediately flew to Seattle to be with John's wife, Susan. On Wednesday, searchers found the backpack and on Friday they found the body.
The memorial service was last Saturday.
"It was wonderful," Bob Arum said at the Biltmore, sitting at a table, making sure that his companion sat by his right ear, the one that hears.
"He had done a lot of work with Indian tribes. There were representatives of four of them. Usually, each one has a different person to pay tribute to that they adopt. All four had designated John."
John Arum devoted much time to securing fishing and hunting rights for various tribes. Bob remained proudly bemused over his son's original career choice.
"He grew up on 72nd Street and Seventh Avenue in New York," Arum said. "Then, when he was a teenager, he went to a wilderness camp one summer. That was it. He wanted to be outside from that day on. He went to Reed College, in Portland, and began working on his career. I don't know where he got it."
Arum is 78. To stay atop the treacherous boxing game for that many decades takes a level of ferocity that recedes with age.
But without Mayweather-Pacquiao, where does he go?
"With all his legal problems and after that ridiculous, racist rant of his (on video), I don't know if it happens," Arum said. "It certainly looks like Floyd doesn't want to fight him. I just think he would feel a lot of emotional trauma if he lost his zero (as in his 41-0 record)."
For the first time Arum is not completely dismissing a Pacquiao-Paul Williams fight, although he isn't endorsing it, or a fight with Tim Bradley, provided Bradley gets healthy and beats Devon Alexander.
But at some point Pacquiao will walk out of the room. That might be the day the lights finally go out.
In 2002, Arum survived a plane crash at Big Bear Lake and then boarded another plane to Las Vegas because "the odds are with me. It can't happen twice in one day."
A couple of years ago, he described Edwin Valero and Hugo Chavez "as two idiots from Venezuela," and when the audience gasped, he bellowed, "I'm 76 with a bad ear. I can say anything I want."
Perhaps that lion will roar again. On Monday, Arum passed Trampler in the hall and asked if he wanted a lift to Vegas.
"Private plane," Arum said, temptingly.
"Nah, I enjoy driving four hours in the rain," Trampler said.
Arum grinned and waved him off, then slowly walked down the hall, 12 rounds at a time.
Source: ocregister.com
