Bob Arum: Lord of the Ring : Boxing Promoter Now Spars Outside Political, Legal Arenas

“Some men see things as they are and ask why . I dream things that never were and ask why not.”

--Robert F. Kennedy

The late senator from New York was certainly not talking about boxing when he made the lines above a theme for his 1968 presidential campaign.

But then boxing seemed just as foreign in the ‘60s to a young assistant of Kennedy’s named Bob Arum.

Arum wasn’t born and bred in the Kennedy mold. Far from the world of Boston Irish Catholics, Arum grew up in an orthodox Jewish family in Brooklyn.

But he went to Harvard Law School and wound up working for Kennedy when the future senator was U.S. Attorney General. Arum won decisions in tax cases against such corporate giants as Con Edison and Standard Oil, bringing in millions of dollars to the federal till.

Then came a case, small in comparison, that loomed largest of all on Arum’s personal horizon.

In 1962, heavyweight champion Floyd Patterson was defending his title against Sonny Liston. Rumors began floating around that the money from that fight was going to be spirited out of the country to avoid the tax crunch.

Arum, being a tax specialist, was assigned to the case.

He sent revenue agents to every box office, effectively killing any plot before it could start.

The government got its money, but might have lost a brilliant public servant in the process.

Arum had been exposed to big-time boxing and the big-time bucks that went along with it and, suddenly, he was dreaming things that never were and asking why not.

Oh, he stayed with law for a while. He left the government and eventually became head partner of a large New York law firm specializing in corporate securities.

But the fascination with boxing wouldn’t go away.

“Boxing broadened me,” he says. “I learned things that weren’t in law books.”

He became a promoter, unhitching his future from one star--Kennedy--to follow another, worlds apart--Muhammad Ali. Arum met the three-time heavyweight champion through former pro football player Jim Brown.

It wasn’t easy at first. In his first promotion, Ali vs. George Chuvalo, Arum was so short of funds that he had to put many of the expenses on a credit card.

Arum’s promotions of Ali fights took him out of the courtroom more and more.

He formed Top Rank Inc. boxing organization in 1970 and started spending one-third of his time involved in the sport. In 1980, that figure hit 100 percent as he gave up his law practice for the lure of the ring.

Arum became a worldwide boxing figure, promoting everywhere from Europe to South Africa, promoting everything from Ali vs. Leon Spinks in 1978 to Marvin Hagler vs. Thomas Hearns in 1985.

And now, he is on the verge of his most impressive triumph, the Hagler vs. Sugar Ray Leonard extravaganza to be held Monday night at Caesars Palace.

Arum is claiming it could be boxing’s first $100 million fight.

Some laugh at such claims, but then hyperbole and Bob Arum have never been strangers.

When Ali and Joe Frazier staged their second fight in 1974, Arum predicted an audience of nearly one billion.

Was he right? He wasn’t wrong since the figure could never be substantiated.

When stunt man Evel Knievel made his rather ridiculous and ill-fated attempt to jump across the Snake River Canyon in Twin Falls, Ida., on a rocket-powered motorcycle, also in 1974, there was Arum, offering a closed-circuit view to anyone who would watch and predicting that Knievel “will be the most famous man in the world.”

An Arum aide recalls the time that his boss, representing a client in the courtroom, made several statements, then contradicted himself 24 hours later. When asked by the judge to explain the discrepancy, Arum reportedly said, “Yesterday, I was lying. Today, I’m telling the truth.”

What is the truth about Bob Arum?

He’s a man who has never lost his roots. When his father died, Arum religiously said the kaddish, a Hebrew prayer for the dead, each morning and each night for 11 months as required by Jewish law. To do so, he had to find a synagogue twice a day in whichever city in the world he found himself.

But Arum somehow lost his way. At least the way he had envisioned for himself when he was younger. He never imagined he’d take the path he has taken. Not bad, just different. He always was planning on a nice, comfortable life in the courtrooms of Manhattan.

So how do you label a Talmudic scholar and former Kennedy aide who now seems better suited as the logical successor to Barnum, Bailey and Tex Rickard?

Says Irving Rudd: “They say no man is a hero to his valet. But Bob Arum has become my hero. This Hagler-Leonard fight, it’s all Bob Arum. He’s the only one who could have pulled it off.”

Of course, Rudd’s comment must be weighed by the fact that he works for Arum.

Don King told Inside Sports Magazine: “Arum reminds me of the asp who asks the alligator to ride him to safety because the floodwaters were rising. ‘You know you gonna bite me,’ the alligator says. They get to the middle of the creek and, sure enough, whomp, the asp bites him. ‘Why? Why? Why?’ asks the alligator. ‘Now we’re both drowning.’ ‘I can’t help it,’ says the asp. ‘I’m a snake.’ ”

King’s remarks must be weighed by the fact that he and Arum are longtime rivals who have fought an often-vicious battle as boxing’s two major promoting forces.

But look at the two combatants Monday night. Hagler, although not under contract to Arum, has trusted nobody else to handle his fights since 1979. Leonard’s people were outspoken from the beginning about their unhappiness over Arum’s participation in the fight. It was only Hagler’s insistence that kept Arum in it.

It’s paid off.

When Arum guaranteed Hagler $12 million and Leonard $11 million, people wondered if even Arum finally had been caught up in his own hyperbole.

Not to worry, Arum said. He’s already brought in $27 million to exceed the guarantees, and says it’s now not inconceivable that Hagler, with an increasing percentage of the action as it keeps rising, could make as much as $29 million.

If he’s right about how lucrative this fight might become, Arum himself could make $8 million.

His biggest previous payday was the 1983 Hagler vs. Roberto Duran fight, which was worth a reported $3 million to Arum.

Those who work for him praise Arum’s generosity. When former World Boxing Assn. bantamweight champion Richie Sandoval was seriously hurt in the ring, Arum offered him a job as a publicist if he’d retire. Sandoval accepted.

Arum doesn’t like to brag about such things, but ask him about the projected gate for a fight and stand back. His eyes roll when he starts mentioning big figures and his hands move constantly. As does he. The man lives on adrenaline and thrives on the circus atmosphere he is always creating. He never seems to get enough.

Now a Las Vegas resident, he is on the phone as early as 6 a.m., calling back to New York to check on the far-flung activities of Top Rank.

His hands are on everything.

There may have been more press conferences in this town over the past few days than President Reagan has held since taking office, but Arum still finds the time to moderate them, even going so far as to shout at one reporter for asking “an idiotic question.”

As if Hagler-Leonard wasn’t enough, Arum also celebrated the seventh anniversary of the successful weekly boxing shows he puts on the ESPN cable network with a special card Friday night at Caesars. Arum also has put Michael Nunn of the Ten Goose Boxing Club of North Hollywood, one of the six fighters he has under contract, into the semi-main event of today’s nationally televised show at Caesars, giving Nunn valuable exposure for the future.

What of the future? Everybody seems to have asked Hagler and Leonard about theirs after Monday, but what of Arum? At age 55, with probably the richest fight in history behind him, any chance of a burnout, of a desire to turn down the hyperbole and kick back, perhaps to that comfortable law practice?

“No,” Arum said with a smile. “If I did anything, I might want to run a casino.” Don’t bet on it. There’s always Hagler-Leonard II. Or maybe Evil Knievel getting a rematch with the Snake River.

“To be a good promoter, you have to be a cock-eyed optimist,” Arum says. ‘I’m a dreamer.”

A dreamer who always asks why not.