Las Vegas was the fight capital of the world… but here’s the inside story of why Sin City abandoned boxing
The sun is dipping over The Strip by the time Jacob ‘Stitch’ Duran wanders into the Mayweather Boxing Club for the final leg of his ‘gym run’.
The cutman, 72, is one of boxing’s most respected figures, having worked with fighters including Andre Ward, Tyson Fury and both Klitschko brothers.
Every now and then, Duran will tour the fight clubs of his adopted hometown – just to ‘shoot the s***,’ he says. ‘God, it don’t get no better than that.’
We are only days away the heavyweight title rematch between Fury and Oleksandr Usyk. But in this corner of Chinatown, a short drive from the casinos and chaos, all is quiet.
Some of the Mayweather clan are gathered on plastic chairs. A couple of fighters are wrapping up their workouts. This was once at the epicenter of boxing’s biggest fights, where Floyd Mayweather honed his craft before heading a few minutes south to earn his fortune.
Mayweather’s name remains above the door. His face still looks over the ring from posters and paintings. Signs still remind fighters to pay their dues and leave their guns at home. But today, Floyd is elsewhere and so are the eyes of the boxing world.
For decades, Las Vegas has been known as ‘Fight Town’ and the boxing capital of the world
The parking lot of Caesar’s Palace became hallowed turf after hosting several historic fights
In more recent years, Floyd Mayweather opened a gym in Las Vegas to train for his huge fights
Five years ago this month, Anthony Joshua beat Andy Ruiz in Diriyah. It was the first heavyweight title fight in the Middle East and the night the sands started to shift away from Nevada to the desert of Saudi Arabia. Fury and Usyk meet again in Riyadh on Saturday.
For so long, though, this was Fight Town. The boxing capital of the world. Now – as one figure puts it – boxing has been all-but ‘abandoned’ by Las Vegas. Many fear it will never return. Not to how it once was, anyway. Boxing now has new bedfellows. So does Sin City.
Over recent weeks, Vegas has hosted Formula One, rodeo, the NBA Cup final and a meeting of golf’s biggest stars. The city already boasts NFL, NHL and WNBA teams; work is underway to build an MLB franchise in ‘Sports Town USA’. But as it stands, there is just one Vegas world title fight in the calendar.
No matter that many in boxing still call this home. At the Mayweather gym, Duran embraces ex-world champions Cornelius Boza-Edwards and Joel Casamayor. And every three minutes, the bell sounds to signal the end of another round. Even after the gym has emptied.
‘The Immortal’ Joe Louis stands near the roulette tables inside Caesars Palace. The former heavyweight champion wasn’t involved in the first big Vegas bout, which was held at an old ballpark in 1955. He never fought here. But the Brown Bomber was ‘instrumental’ as boxing took over Las Vegas.
Louis worked as a greeter at Caesars and his statue remains in the casino.
‘When we traveled all over the world, people would come and tell us: ‘I met Joe Louis at Caesars Palace!”,’ recalls Gene Kilroy, Muhammad Ali’s right-hand man and former Vegas casino executive. ‘That’s how it all started here. The athletes would come, then the people would come. And then the fights came.’
In this city of neon, green always shines brightest and boxing offered hotels an avenue to their favorite customers: people who have money and are willing to risk it in the casinos.
Mayweather’s crossover fight against Conor McGregor brought a host of celebrities to Vegas
Gene Kilroy worked as Muhammad Ali’s right-hand man and a Las Vegas casino executive
When Ali fought Leon Spinks in 1978, Elvis Presley’s dad came out to watch and meet the boxer
‘I remember they said that when Elvis was at the Hilton, the gaming drop wasn’t that high, but boxing… I had a guy come out here who lost $12million for the Ali-(Larry) Holmes fight,’ Kilroy says.
‘He had his picture taken with Ali. He had dinner with Ali. That was the highlight of his life. He wasn’t worried about the $12m.’
Televised fights, meanwhile, offered ‘advertising’ at a time when many Americans were still learning of Vegas’ – err, unique – appeal.
‘Lloyd Price, the great singer, said when the fights were here, forget about getting a hotel room. You couldn’t even get a phone call in it was so busy,’ Kilroy says.
‘When Ali fought Leon Spinks (in 1978), I invited Elvis’s dad.’ They met after The Greatest lost. ‘Ali said: “I hope I didn’t let you down”,’ Kilroy recalls. The reply? ‘You could never let me down, my son loved you so much.’
Few figures have blended boxing and showbusiness like ‘Stitch’ Duran. He was hired as Wladimir Klitschko’s cutman after working his Vegas ‘fight’ in the movie ‘Ocean’s Eleven’.
He belonged here and so did boxing. The glitz, the show, the money. ‘The history,’ says former welterweight king Shawn Porter. Gyms were a ‘hotbed’ of talent and when the call came to fight on The Strip, fighters knew: ‘We’ve finally “made it “.’
Gambling revenue allowed casinos to offer promoters unrivaled profits; fans were guaranteed a week of vice and violence at this ‘Disneyland for adults’.
Thomas Hearns met Marvin Hagler at Caesars Palace in one of the greatest fights of all time
In recent decades, Mayweather made the MGM Grand Garden Arena a second home
‘It was more of a legitimate, magnetic destination for the fights than any other place I covered them,’ says legendary HBO announcer Jim Lampley.
Big fights took over the city; Frank Sinatra and other A-listers would swarm ringside.
‘It was magical,’ says one insider. And it remained that way until recently. Floyd Mayweather vs. Conor McGregor in 2017, Porter says, is ‘the only fight that I’ve been to that brought out every actor, every comedian, every musician, every athlete.’
He recalls bumping into Ice Cube and introducing himself. ‘I know who you are,’ the rapper responded. ‘My jaw just dropped.’
The fight itself failed to deliver but many other bouts lit up The Strip. The Caesars parking lot became hallowed ground thanks to Ali, ‘Sugar’ Ray Leonard, Thomas Hearns and Co. Mayweather made the MGM Grand a second home; this city made him the world’s highest-paid athlete. In his heyday, Mayweather’s fights were said to be worth $100m-plus to the Vegas economy.
Few rounds in history have been as gloriously chaotic as the 10th between Diego Corrales and Jose Luis Castillo at the Mandalay Bay, when Corrales climbed off the canvas – twice – before stopping his rival.
Next year marks 20 years since that fight – and 18 years since Corrales’ death at just 29. His widow, Michelle Corrales-Lewis, now dedicates her life to preserving the legacy of boxing in Las Vegas. She is CEO of the Nevada Boxing Hall of Fame.
‘There used to be a time when (if) you’ve made it to the Vegas lights… that meant something,’ Corrales-Lewis says. ‘I can only continue to pray that they’ll get (fights) back here.’
Next year marks 20 years since Diego Corrales (L) sensationally beat Jose Louis Castillo (R)
This week, Oleksandr Usyk faces Tyson Fury for the unified heavyweight title in Saudi Arabia
The problem? Vegas had begun to look elsewhere even before Saudi Arabia dipped into boxing’s deepest pockets and took control of the sport. ‘It just doesn’t capture the city like it used to,’ says Tim Dahlberg, who chronicled boxing’s history here in ‘Fight Town’.
Kilroy believes the beginning of the end came when the Klitschkos controlled the heavyweight division from Germany. Others blame promoters – fearing they have chased ‘fool’s gold’ – and boxers for fighting too rarely.
For so long, gambling meant only boxing ventured into the desert. Casinos would battle to host big fights.
Now? ‘You’d be hard pressed’ to get one interested, Dahlberg says. That’s despite Porter insisting the gyms are ‘heating up’ once more, and that Saudi Arabia ‘will never replace a fight in Vegas.’
Now other sports offer more reliable income and hotels have found different streams of income. Such as conventions. ‘There’s always another avenue,’ says Kilroy, who is 84 and still lives here.
Corrales-Lewis hopes a boxing museum will one day open on The Strip. The sport isn’t history quite yet. But over in Chinatown, by the time Duran leaves the Mayweather Boxing Club, the sun has nearly set.
‘There was a romance and a very serious one between the city and boxing – and they both benefited from it, incredibly,’ says Dahlberg. ‘It was a great era. But eras come and go. And this one is pretty much gone.’
