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Bob Arum at Top Rank headquarters in Las Vegas. Al Powers for ESPN

Bob Arum is on the second floor of the events center at the Resorts World Las Vegas hotel and casino. He is moving slowly. His eyes looked toward the floor as if he was pulling down on his neck and shoulders. The top of his head is no longer black, it is now white. He is 90 years old.

Arum walks beside the man. He is always nearby. Whatever Arum needs, Harmon gets. He is the one who tells the server to speak on Arum's right side because he has trouble hearing from his left ear. No one puts it in these words, but you get a sense that he is also a bodyguard.

As he walks, Arum says that it is good. He is talking about his knee. He uses a wheelchair whenever he must walk long distances because of his knee and other injuries. He hated the idea at first. He agreed after swallowing a bit of his pride and knowing that it would save him some pain.

The promenade is empty as he walks. A few hotel and casino employees are speaking and listening to instructions on walkie-talkies. The voices are often speaking Spanish and telling them which ballroom is ready to be cleaned and how many tables and chairs must be set up. It is easy to forget that just a floor below Arum is a Las Vegas casino.

The bells and whistles of the slot machines. March Madness highlights and the Sweet 16 will be shown on the TVs. The tourists were drunk on a Thursday. The music is so loud that it is heard above everything else. It is the most expensive resort project in the city at $4.3 billion. The fight will be the first staged here.

Arum entered a ballroom. He sits in the front row of the news conference, about 20 feet from the stage. His mind and memory are sharp, but after more than half a century of doing this, he has been to more of these than he can remember. Most are dull, just a part of the job. The most memorable fights stay with you, as Arum has done.

Some still make him laugh. The post-fight conference with James Toney, Mike McCallum and their teams. Security guards tried to stand between them because they disliked each other so much. The dislike was so deep that Toney tried to attack the one person security never thought to protect.

As he sits, drinking an iced coffee that was brought to him, waiting for the news conference to begin, boxers, managers, fans and people around the sport pay their respects. They reach out to shake his hand. One of the hardest men in the game, Arum has survived among the desperados, as he calls them, that the sport attracts. Some people call him a legend when they meet him. It makes him feel like being called Mr. Arum makes him annoyed.

He smiles and poses for pictures despite that. A boxer stops to say hello. He is fighting in the main event. The interpreter tells Arum what Berchelt just said.

Berchelt lost the junior lightweight title. The pain was worse because he lost it to his friend. At the end of the ninth round, after stumbling to his corner with his right eye closing and blood dripping out his nose, Berchelt showed a moment of vulnerability that is rare in boxing. He cursed in Spanish like if he had a metallic taste in his mouth and realized that he had reached his limits.

The loose translation of what he said on the night he lost everything was "I'm f---ed." After moving to Las Vegas hoping to save his career, Berchelt tells Arum he feels great. He thinks the time off has helped. He says that life has knocked him down before, and that he has always returned to his feet. He believes he can be a world champion again.

Arum gave Berchelt a gentle tap on one arm as he talked. Berchelt listens to the interpretation to make sure he understood, smiles, and then walks away. Arum and a boxer he promotes have had this interaction many times. He gives a few words of encouragement. He tries to counsel them. He tells them to plan for tomorrow, because they might not feel like they will live forever.

The old man tries to tell them that everything is fleeting.

Al Powers for ESPN

Arum screamed at the television between bites of his steak and onions. It is a few hours after the news conference. Arum and a few of his friends and people at Top Rank gather for dinner a few nights before each fight.

Boxing is a small world. You don't have to do this for a long time before you start talking to the same people. Every hotel room is the same after a while. If the fight is in Las Vegas, they will often eat at Piero's Italian Cuisine.

It started as a mob joint, and Arum has been here for decades. He orders things that are not on the menu. He sits at the round table near the bar and the TVs whenever he wants to watch sports.

When Arum first arrived in Las Vegas, it was different. Reinvention is the city's ethos and it isn't surprising that that isn't surprising. In the middle of the harsh Mojave Desert, explorers could find water even if it was warm. The fight capital of the world has just enough kitsch to make the carnage palatable. Las Vegas cannot afford to get old, at least not on The Strip. The old casinos are demolished, the rubble is cleared, and another is built on top. It feels like the boom will never end when things are going well here.

Arum moved his offices from New York City to Las Vegas in 1986 as the boxing epicenter moved from the East Coast to the West. He had grown tired of the East Coast. In March, Las Vegas can be warm with temperatures hitting 80 degrees. New York can be cold, rainy and dark in April, with naked trees making you miss the other parts of the country where flowers have already bloomed.

The mobsters still sat at the corner tables when he first moved here. There would be a priest with them when they were still looking for salvation. If the same people came on consecutive nights, they would make sure to sit in a different corner because they were afraid the FBI had placed bugs under the table. The problem with the mobsters in boxing was bad when Arum first started.

Arum was an attorney with the U.S. Department of Justice. The mob left him alone because they knew that. Since Arum stumbled into boxing, it might have thought he wouldn't last long. Those who thought they could make it were crushed in the end.

Arum says that the case that brought him to boxing changed his life. Robert F. Kennedy was the U.S. attorney general at the time. According to Arum, Kennedy got information that Roy Cohn was promoting the fight and was going to take the money overseas and pay Patterson on a payment plan.

That was against the law. Kennedy gave Arum the case. Arum took close to $5 million from the event, then took Cohn's testimony for 10 days. He learned everything he could about the boxing business, even if he had never watched a fight.

The Crown Heights section of Brooklyn was where Arum grew up and he remembers fights on Friday nights.

When Arum worked at a law firm, he was asked to help with another boxing event because of his experience with Cohn. He met Jim Brown. He told Arum that he wanted to be a promoter. Since Muhammad Ali was taken, Arum had no interest in promoting him. Brown said that Ali could arrange a meeting.

Arum was hesitant to believe that Ali wanted to speak to him. The meeting happened about a month later. After that, Arum met a man who was a mentor to Ali.

We started talking for about 30 minutes. And then his eyes would glaze over, according to Arum. I let that go and we continued talking.

The talk ended with Arum as Ali's lawyer and promoter. Arum would pay Ali 50% of his fight's gross profits instead of the standard 40%. That is how the relationship between Ali and Arum began. Since there was no better way to promote boxing than to promote Ali, Arum never left.

Bob Arum next to a photograph of himself and Muhammad Ali at Top Rank headquarters in Las Vegas. Al Powers for ESPN

It would be wonderful if Krzyzewski won a championship on his way out, says Arum, still eating his steak inside. Texas Tech is playing Duke in the Sweet 16 of the NCAA tournament. He is friends with Mike Krzyzewski. If Duke wins a national championship, Arum will call him to raise his spirits.

Arum continuously shouts for Duke. He had to put his knife and fork down because of the close game. Arum is astonished when Texas Tech hits a 3-pointer. He can't believe that a team from Lubbock, Texas, might be the one that ends Krzyzewski's career.

The men at the table have known Arum for a long time and he always gets excited about sports and politics. Whenever they tell stories of Arum, they will mimic his voice. Most of the stories end with Arum losing his cool, with a punchline that has him screaming "What the f--- is this?"

They have been boxing for most of their lives. The kid can fight might be the highest compliment they can give. They are excited for upcoming events. It was an honor to be at Wembley Stadium to watch Tyson Fury defend his title. The best talker and self-promoter since Ali won that fight, according to Arum. In front of 94,000 screaming fans, he knocked out Dillian Whyte in the sixth round. On April 30th, the star power of Shakur Stevenson will face Oscar Valdez.

The men laugh at the absurdity of boxing. The cutman was pronounced dead after suffering a heart attack during a fight. They saw him working the corner a few weeks later, trying to keep a boxer from bleeding.

They talk about the dark side as well. They try to keep their relationships with boxers as much about business as possible because of the hurt they have experienced. Sometimes they can not. Some grown men cry like babies while watching an old boxer.

The game is over. Duke wins. Arum is relaxing a bit. If they make it that far, he will go see his friend Duke in the Final Four. Arum is not ready to retire. He still enjoys the show. It makes no sense for Arum to walk away when there are people who pay thousands of dollars to watch fights from where he sits for free.

A patron passes a table on his way out of Piero's, asking who the superstar is next to him. He is wondering if anyone would refer to him as that. He last fought 14 years ago. Someone who did that for a living has facial characteristics of him. That will never go away. The edges of his brow and eyes were rounded from so many punches. The knuckle was swollen and calloused.

Arum says that he fought Roy Jones Jr. and got the s--- beat out of him.

Louder and longer than anyone else at the table. He has a confidence that is not the norm for someone who has made their living fighting. It is in the way he walks that it is hard to describe. He is taller than everyone else. He fought and won in those Las Vegas casinos and that confidence comes from that.

The casinos are in the dangerous side of town, that after outliving that excitement of being new, got old and left behind. Las Vegas boxers are still working their way up. Before the sun rises, you can see them running among fiends who seem a lifetime away from a good night's sleep. It is easy to laugh at a joke made at your expense.

Between laughter, he says that it was good. He is wiping tears from his eyes.

Arum doesn't think age has made him more of a person. Not even nostalgic. He thinks about the fun times he had with athletes and people who were part of his life. John F. Kennedy, Frank Sinatra, Vince McMahon, Evel Knievel, and Marcos are just some of the people he has dealt with.

There are many fascinating stories, like the time when NBA great Wilt Chamberlain almost fought Ali. Cus D&Amato was the trainer. The fight would be at the Astrodome. There was a news conference ready to announce the fight between the superstars.

Arum told Ali not to start needling him while waiting for the news conference.

The long-term deal that was being negotiated with the Lakers finally arrived. He ducked as he walked through the door.

Arum remembers that Ali yelled "TIMBBBEEERRRR!" as he did that. They want to make a call from a private room. I learned that the call was to Jack Kent Cooke, the owner of the Lakers. The fight is over.

One could tell the better part of the past century of United States history through Arum's life. The serious can turn funny with time. When he said he heard that Don King was going to have him killed, it was an allegation that King denied.

Arum was told that his life was in danger by a U.S. attorney in the Southern District of New York.

Arum asked who it was.

The attorney told him not to say anything.

Why are you calling me? Arum asked.

Arum found out it was King through an FBI agent. He changed his walking route to work after he took the threat so serious. King called Arum when it all got settled with the help of a criminal lawyer. King told him that he had not been serious.

The two spoke on Arum's birthday. King called to wish Arum well and told him he was hosting a dinner in his honor. They both found it funny that they were two of the last living links to the golden age of boxing in this country, from Ali to Tyson.

Arum says that King infuriates him because of politics. He is a Trump guy.

You have to live long enough to make peace with those who were your rivals. Maybe you won't.

When asked about his critics, Arum responded "You can't help it." He has fallen out with a lot of people. Arum says that boxing has a high visibility and has very few barriers of entry.

Manny Pacquiao and promoter Bob Arum stand victorious after winning the IBO light welterweight title vs. Ricky Hatton in Las Vegas. John Iacono /Sports Illustrated/Getty Images

Arum says that he is getting older and that he promotes boxers. He had a close relationship with some of the fighters he worked with. Ray Leonard and Muhammad Ali. Marvin Hagler. Oscar De La Hoya was a boxer. They were friends even if Arum was a little older. They were playing cards. They ate dinner with him. Lovee has a favorite boxer, George Foreman, whom she calls a very sweet man, and they interacted with Arum so often. Lovee is Arum's second wife.

The fighters are the age of my grandchildren, says Arum. Photos of Arum next to boxers were taken when they were young.

When a sport is ruled by those who are young, you age in it. The advantage of youth has never been like fighting experience. That ability to punish your body will bounce back. That naivete of thinking that will never change. You overlook how long Arum has lived because you don't have life experience.

He has seen the world change while watching men fight. As the salaries in other sports increased, it inadvertently killed the country's heavyweight division.

As the newspaper industry sank, boxing writers treaded water for a bit before they went under, recalls Arum. The country used to be full of great fight towns. Detroit, St. Louis, Des Moines, and many others. There are no local fight towns anymore, according to Arum.

Arum has built his own company with the mindset of a technician. Todd duBoef, Arum's stepson and current Top Rank president, will take the helm.

Promoting has changed since he started. Arum had to travel the country for the biggest fights. Within a couple of weeks, there will be 10, 15, 20 cities on the promotional tours. A tour with the goal of finding an audience. The medium that's now different is social media.

You don't live as long if you don't see change. Without looking at the damage. Without taking losses. You can see that the ones that hurt are coming. His former co-workers in the U.S. attorney's office are now in their 80s and 90s. Even though his speech was noticeably slower before he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, Muhammad Ali's health deteriorated after that. The words that flowed like water when he was young slowed to molasses. That made the pain go away.

The death of Marvin Hagler in March of last year really affected me.

Hagler died because he was the one who took the money he made fighting and started a new life. The rare boxer who never suffered the brutal indignity of getting old inside the ring, moved to Italy and became an actor, placing as much distance between himself and the temptation of a boxing ring as possible. He should have outlived Arum and all the men he fought to escape. Hagler's death hurt because it proved what we all know. No one gets out alive.

It is always the unexpected punches that hurt the most. John Arum was Arum's oldest son. He fell while climbing the North King Mountain.

Arum still dreams about him. He has pictures of John and Ali around his house when he was young. Arum died with his son because no parent should outlive their child.

Richard Arum says that his father was devastated. Everyone understands that that is a universal.

Everyone is carrying losses.

Arum is sitting in the first row on fight night. Behind the red corner is where his line of sight is. Arum is already there, with two chairs over, hours before the main event begins.

He watches every fight of the events he promotes. It is his way of showing the boxers in the early bouts that he is invested in their careers as well.

The crowd is always sparse during these fights. People who are fighting are just friends and family. Fans are the hardest of the hardcore. It is easy to hear cornermen screaming at their fighters.

Boxing memorabilia at Top Rank headquarters in Las Vegas. Al Powers for ESPN

They will shout, begging for aggression.

There you go! They will yell, trying to keep their fighters encouraged.

The punches are loud and have little else to drown them out. The boxers are talking.

Estevan Partida told Adrian Serrano to stop head-butting him during the first fight on the card.

Serrano is making his professional debut. He is a senior at Alisal High School in Salinas, California. He has a mustache that should grow into more than the trace it is now, because he is so young. By the time the fight ends in a draw that leaves no one satisfied, Serrano has his face bloodied and bruised. A high school student is not fighting for money on a Saturday night. There will always be someone willing to do that. Someone will always be selling tickets.

Arum keeps watching as the event continues. The crowd has grown around him. Richard Arum says that his father finds meaning in boxing. Richard says if we want to find meaning and purpose in life, we must first find meaning. His father has that as well.

With the main event about to begin, Berchelt enters the ring with singer Sim. It feels like a party with the pro-Mexican crowd. As he entered the ring, Nakathila got barely any notice. Even if the crowd is small, the fans sing along with Berchelt and reach out to him. They are here to watch him win.

The main event starts when the bell rings. This is the best part of the event for Arum. He's done everything he can to promote the fights. Whatever went wrong during the promotion can never be fixed. It is up to the boxers to deliver.

Berchelt isn't the same boxer he used to be. His reflexes have slowed. The punches he narrowly avoided now connect with more frequencies. When that happens, you try to protect yourself by keeping your hands up and throwing fewer punches. When you throw punches, they are easier to dodge. That is what is happening here. Nakathila is hitting Berchelt.

The once lively environment has gone quiet so quiet that you can hear the trainer yelling that the counterpunch is there. It is one thing to see it, but another to be fast enough to take it without being in danger. It is one thing to be 30 years old. It is one thing to be a 30-year-old boxer who taxed his body while fighting his way from obscurity to a world title and now looks like an old man inside the ring.

No one can help him. Berchelt is the loneliest man in the sport. You will see a fight like this if you watch enough boxing. They are the hardest to watch. Fights that are not really fights are watching someone get beat. Fights when you can't help but to say what you think.

The fight should be stopped.

This has entered the space between sport and seeing a man fighting for his life.

Berchelt's dreams have become a nightmare.

He was once a beautiful boxer but now he is not.

You almost want to scream.

Someone is watching Berchelt take a beating and that makes them cry.

He would have had no trouble winning the fight. The referee stopped it after the sixth round. Berchelt wanted to keep fighting. He went to the hospital in the back of the ambulance. Capetillo will meet him there, so he talks fast.

Capetillo says of Berchelt. They finished him. He does not say who they are, but he is talking about everyone in the world of boxing. Other fighters, but also the managers, the trainers, the promoter, and maybe even the fans. We finished him. There aren't any saints here. We have all made demands of mortals.

Capetillo says he will tell Berchelt it is time to walk away. Taking care of your health is important. His faculties have not waned. His body is worn and he looks tired.

The conversation between Capetillo and Berchelt will be difficult. It is easy to tell someone to stop fighting. It is hard to understand how much boxing is a part of their life. It is often their identity. They wake up and run. Why they eat at certain times of the day. They have friends. After they have nothing to prove, they still dream about fighting. Sometimes the losses they carry are so painful and haunting that they risk their lives trying to win again.

Workers rush to tear down the ring after everyone empties it. The cameras and microphones are off. The laser lights and music are not on. Blood stains can be seen in the ring without those distraction.

The lights turn on when Arum walks away. He takes small steps up the aisle. He touches the top rail of the seats to keep his balance. The old man is on his way to sell the next fight.