Down for the Count?

His latest push is to establish a federal entity that could supervise the sport. A federal boxing "czar" could, for example, establish uniform safety requirements to protect the fighters, organize the rankings and promoters so that the most skilled boxers get a chance to advance, and weed out corruption among referees and judges.

But McCain's proposal, which he has yet to put into the form of a bill, would surely face an uphill battle. It would be difficult to enforce, and opposition from state commissions would be enormous.

"There is very strong opposition on the part of the states," says an official at the New York State Boxing and Wrestling Commission who asked to remain anonymous. "People feel that the bureaucrats in Washington would drive down the boxing business."

Without a central governing body, experts say, boxing is likely to remain a free-for-all, in which the sport is governed by the people with cash up front. And ironically, that may be just what many of the fans want.

Boxing is enormously popular, and that is unlikely to change. Its seedy nature, its rawness, its bravado, and its unpredictability are part of what make it appealing to some. Few will forget Muhammad Ali's poetic abuse of Joe Frazier. Few will forget Mike Tyson's stare. What other sport could spawn a film character like "Rocky"?

"It has the most wonderful characters, they're all Damon Runyonesque," says Sugar, the writer. "In a day of homogeneity, when everything is controlled by corporations, this is a last vestige of individuality."

That individuality can be seen at the Round One Gym, where Bee Scottland spent his evenings working out with trainer Adrian Davis.

The action here is real, not polished for prime time. Musty and hot, the gym buzzes with grunts, groans, and laughter. Shirtless men do push-ups on a dusty, wooden floor. Sweat drips freely. A jump rope flickers endlessly. It is a solitary pursuit.

A poster on the wall reads: "The harder you train, the luckier you get."

There is no visible remembrance of Scottland, but he lives in the back of everyone's mind here.

William Joppy, a highly ranked middleweight, was a close friend. They sometimes sparred together. "It breaks your heart," says Joppy, who recently lost his middleweight championship belt to Felix Trinidad. "We practically grew up together. But it doesn't scare me one bit. That's part of the sport. The same can happen anywhere else, in a car accident or on the street."

Davis, the veteran trainer who himself lost his left eye to boxing, tries to go on with business, running the family gym and training the rest of his stable, including Rahman, the heavyweight champ. He says the gym needs to accept its loss and move on.

"I loved Bee," says Davis. "But Bee Scottland's death didn't stop the possibility that it will happen again."

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