| No town in the world worships the
“sweet science of bruising” like Las Vegas. Those jabbing fists, the manic
crowd, the girl with the numbered cards glistening under all those flash bulbs. The Fight
of the Century. championship of the world. No sport has been as mythologized or
memorized as world class boxing. Real aficionados can rattle off fight statistics
like a shopping list. Those heavyweight moments: when managers strike it rich, when
gamblers rake in millions, when a contender raises a weary glove. Las Vegas, with its casino ballrooms and high-rolling sports
betting, is aptly named “the boxing capital of the world.” The odds on a
big fight in Vegas can move millions between sportsbooks. Nothing gets a good gaming crowd
together like a few rounds in the ring. When the big weights come to town, hotels and
casinos are packed. The Roulette wheels are loaded, stakes are high and night clubs
are swarmed with starlets until dawn. Sin City is a town that puts on a hell of a
show. From giant outdoor matches to arena fights, the venues in Las Vegas are world
class.
Show Me the Money
Some of the biggest fights of the century took place on the
Strip. Mike Tyson vs. Trevor Berbick. Muhammad Ali falling to Larry Holmes in
Caesars Palace’s giant outdoor arena. Caesars was identified as early as the
1970s as the Vegas mecca for major boxing matches. The Palace featured such
monumental battles as retired Sugar Ray Leonard’s pulverizing upset to clinch the
1987 title from favorite Thomas “Hit Man” Hagler. In 1989, Michael Moore stomped
undisputed champion Evander Holyfield at the Palace, leading to his untimely
retirement. And who can forget the crazed “Fan Man” of 1993, who
launched off the Excalibur with only a glider and electric fan straight into the
ring’s outdoor lights, stalling the title fight. Between its Circus Maximus
Showroom, its heavy betting and bustling casinos, Caesars Palace was Sin City’s ideal
fight night venue for decades.
Now, nearly a dozen big casinos host major boxing matches
in Las Vegas. The Orleans, built in 1996, is the local favorite for viewing a good
matchup, with a regular crowd and intimate seating. The Showroom, housed in one of
Vegas’ off-Strip casinos, is perhaps a little too kitsch in its faux Mardi Gras
theme. But bad style doesn’t stop such events like the Orleans Crown
Boxing. Light and featherweight championships are often on the ticket, and real
boxing fanatics love the reasonable prices ($25 a seat). The Orleans was also the
first to house female championship bouts in 2006. This week’s big draw is ex
UNLV-basketball-star- turned-boxer Kaspars Kambala in his debut. History in the
making.
Golden Boys
Planet Hollywood has named the Thomas and Mack Center as
the venue of choice, record holder in Nevada for largest boxing crowds. A stadium
seating nearly 20,000 for ringside events, the Thomas and Mack is equipped with
mega-screens, full service bars and terrible event parking.
The Mandalay Bay is Vegas’ classiest boxing
venue. Past Mandalay Bay fights have included some of the highest grossing fights in
history, including Trinidad vs. La Hoya in 1999. Praised for its high-rolling Craps
and modern sportsbook, the Mandalay Bay also features the enormous Events Center, seating
12,000 for top-rank boxing and UFC events.
But perhaps Las Vegas likes its boxing for the spectacle,
more than the bloodshed. Such venues as the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino feature hot
boxing showdowns at their venue, the Joint. But it is the nightclubs and Blackjack
tables that really hum on fight nights at the Hard Rock. The Bellagio sings the same
tune. A chance to fill their 45,000 square foot ballroom with drinking, high-rolling
fans is an opportunity to play host to America’s premier gamblers. Most hotels
offer package deals for fight nights, including steak dinners, box seats and access to the
big money tables once the fight is over.
The Sweet Science
What culture praises that gladiator style sparring more
than America? Who loves their 15 rounds of jabs and uppercuts and their man in the
golden shorts spitting blood into a bucket? What other guts and gore event draws glamorous
dolls and big spenders to cheer on such intense man-on-man combat. The theories of
America’s obsession with the sweet science vary. Some are stuck in the
statistics, the strategy of a fighter’s carefully placed punches. Some simply
love the money, such high stakes based on such simple human tendencies. But most real
boxing fans revel in the poetry, the magic of a featherweight’s footsteps with a
heavyweight’s blow.
Boxing is a sport of heroes. From the old school Jack
Johnson, to new school La Hoya, to living legend Ali, the sport is haunted by
revolutionaries, underdogs. These men became our warriors in the face of a volatile
century. There were the featherweights, our little brothers, lean and twitchy around
every furious punch. The middleweights, tiptoeing around the ropes. And the
heavies, the Tyson and George Foreman types, the monsters, out of the corner swinging.
American viewers have been stunned for decades by their speed and muscle. And Las
Vegas is the perfect boxing capital of the world, a town ever searching for that elusive |
