Some would say Don King and Bob Arum are the last of the great dinosaurs to roam the earth leaving their giant footprints all over those they have trampled on in the last 50 years.

The legendary names Mohammed Ali, Marvin Hagler, Sugar Ray Leonard, Tommy Hearns, Mike Tyson and Oscar De La Hoya slip from the tongue as smoothly as King and Arum spoke about the historical promotions they have been central to since 1962.

Now, they are threatened with extinction as Arum's former client De La Hoya makes his play to rule the world of promoters through the magic of his personality, a crème de la crème stable of aging boxing superstars, the far-reaching extension of his marketing machine and the sense of trust he has built up with cable television networks.

There was a time when a punch could not be thrown without either King or Arum being right behind it to remind the world outside the ring that what they predicted had come to pass into the record books as fact.

The pit-bull aggressive Arum, a graduate of Harvard Law School, was gifted a downtown Brooklyn upbringing. He learned the hard way how to turn work into 'wonga' as a Tax expert on Wall Street and an Attorney at the Justice Department.

Ironically, Arum first walked into the shadowy side of boxing as the lead investigator of a government task force to look into the shady dealings of promoter Roy Cohn for Sonny Liston's 1962 knockout of Floyd Patterson for the heavyweight title.

GOLDEN ERA

Within three years, Arum had become Mohammed Ali's lawyer in a move that would make him a heavyweight of the game. He was also central to the 1980s golden era of Tommy Hearns, Sugar Ray Leonard, Robert Duran and Marvin Hagler.

In the 1990s, Arum was forced into the background by the earthshaking emergence of Don King's money-maker Mike Tyson, who chilled opponents with his chiseled body and hammer hands. The self-professed 'baddest man on the planet' single-handedly resurrected the heavyweight division.

Once convicted of manslaughter and since acquitted of tax evasion and fraud, King's first promotion was a charity event, featuring Muhammad Ali, for the benefit of the minority Forest City Hospital in Cleveland Arena Ohio. It became the second-largest grossing event back then for a boxing exhibition ($80,000) on August 28, 1972.

Since then, he has built a financial empire based on street savvy, immense charisma and honest-to-badness bluster as the first promoter to establish his own television network, the Don King Sports and Entertainment Network, in 1982.

He promoted an incredible 47 world championship fights in 1994, shattering his previous record of 25 title bouts in 1986. He was named the Greatest Promoter of All Time by the World Boxing Council in 1994.

He was also the first promoter to pay $30 million to a boxer when Mike Tyson whacked out World Boxing Council champion Frank Bruno in The Championship Part 1 at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas on March 16, 1996.

He shelled out a ground shaking record of $120 million to Tyson during the 15 months between August, 1995, and November, 1996. Tyson crushed four men, Peter McNeeley ($25m), Buster Mathis Jr, ($10m), Frank Bruno ($30m) and Bruce Seldon ($25m). Then, he crashed and burned against Evander Holyfield ($30m).

King was hailed as the Promoter of the Millennium by the World Boxing Association in 1999. He was inducted into the Gaming Hall of Fame, the American Gaming Association's highest honor, at their 20th annual induction ceremony last September, along with three others, including his old sparring partner Arum.

For all this, the constant allegations of extortion, the law suits and the post-fight allegations of theft by deception from his boxers have made King a dubious proposition.

The splintering of the sanctioning bodies was driven by greed where the best fighters in the world avoided each other until the time was right for the greatest financial gain.

Today, boxing stands in stark contrast to rival combat sport The Ultimate Fighting Championship as a means of making money rather than history. The Golden Boy saw a gap in the market and he rushed through it with both hands held above his head as the Champion of the work-a-day boxer.

When 19-year-old De La Hoya avenged a 1991 World Championship final defeat to beat Germany's Marco Rudolph in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics final, the callow teenager signed the bulkiest management deal ever, a $1 million bonanza, in turning from a glorious amateur to a professional of unlimited talent.

The hysteria that met his transformation was counted in the 6,000 bodies that were jam-packed into the Great Western Forum in Los Angeles on November 23rd 1992. On his debut, he pounded out Lamar Williams in two minutes.

It was the start of a heralded journey that momentarily veered off track. The $1 million deal turned out to be a sham. The $250,000 promised house was a rental home. The Acura NSX sports car was secured on lease. De La Hoya fired his agents like bullets shot from a gun.

"All I saw from the deal was about $75,000 in cash," said De La Hoya, who had learned a lesson that never left him.

At this stage, De La Hoya was clever enough to know he did not have the wherewithal to go it alone. He quickly signed up with Arum and promptly marched right over a number of fall guys to stiff super-featherweight champion Jimmy Bredahl for his first world title 18 months into his career. He would never make less than $1 million per fight from then on.

The vast Hispanic population in California had been waiting for a fighter with cross-community allure, a charismatic character that would combine the perfect 'Hollywood' image of beauty and the beast. By 1997, Forbes Magazine made him the third-best-paid athlete in the world with an income of $37 million.

Gradually, De La Hoya's natural instincts made him question how Arum chopped up the earnings from pay-per-view nights, closed-circuit broadcasts, and sponsorship payments. In 1999, he lost out on a split decision to King's Puerto Rican welterweight Felix 'Tito' Trinidad. He made $23 million; Arum took $12 million -- prompting DLH to react: "I thought: there's something wrong here".

The public was growing disillusioned with a sport in decline. The myriad belts and meaningless match-ups propelled by these motor mouths served only to make money for the promoters and sever the umbilical bond between the fighters and their fans.

It was time for the Golden Boy to take control of his own destiny and that of the sport. He formed a partnership with Richard Schaefer, quickly gathered in a stable of renowned boxers, such as Bernard Hopkins and Sugar Shane Mosley, and got into bed with Television Channel HBO in his stated attempt to reform the sport from the inside-out.

"Traditionally, fighters have had no idea how much money promoters make off them. We're up-front with guys. Our books are open. We break down every source of revenue so they can see every cent.

"We treat boxing like a legitimate business, bringing in integrity, honesty, and transparency. We treat fighters like normal human beings. We're a company for the fans, for the people," he said.

MONOPOLY

He grew the business to claim a share in 65% of the total pay-per-view sales in 2006 and a remarkable 95% in America last year. This reveals a frightening degree of dominance, verging on a monopoly, in an industry where money matters most.

De La Hoya moves up and down the divisions in search of the next great take. He will find it at the MGM Grand, Las Vegas in the early hours of next Saturday morning against pound-for-pound king Manny Pacquiao by boiling down to welterweight for the first time since 2001.

It is a dreadful mismatch. De La Hoya will walk into the ring against a man that is naturally 20 pounds lighter than him. He has become a one-man money making industry over and above the validity he has given back to the sport.

"Before long, Oscar will have all the fighters and all the dates, and nobody is going to watch boxing anymore because the quality is so bad. Golden Boy Promotions will be the death of the sport. Basically, it's the Wal-Mart of boxing," said Kathy Duva of Main Events recently.

Former undisputed heavyweight champion Larry Holmes was not a million miles away from the truth when he professed "all fighters are prostitutes and all promoters are pimps".

The Easton Assassin, as he was known, went unbeaten for 48 fights, including 20 world title defences, before he fell to a controversial points-decision against former light-heavyweight champion Michael Spinks in 1985.

Holmes walked away from the game for the final time in 2001 with a low opinion of the money men: "We put our life on the line to fight for them, put on a show, and these guys take our money, so whatever happens to Bob Arum, Don King or anyone else is fine with me".

WIDER SMILE

The Golden Boy beams a wider smile, wears a sharper pin-stripe suit and sings from a hymn sheet littered with the traditional principals of honesty, trust and fairness. But, he promotes the value of money fights ahead of the worth of the belts that make the men inside the ring.

Will he save the sport? Or, will the sport have to be saved from him? So far, he looks good. But, then again, he always has.