That kind of corporate approval, plus De La Hoya’s widespread appeal across many demographic groups, has helped push the company beyond boxing. Today, the promotion element is just one part of Golden Boy, which Schaefer likens to a “Hispanic Berkshire Hathaway.” Using De La Hoya’s celebrity and earnings (his worth is said to exceed a half-­billion dollars), the company has partnered with a Southern California developer to invest $100 million in commercial and residential properties in Hispanic communities. To date, they have signed off on eight projects in locations ranging from California to Texas and encompassing everything from low-income housing to big-box construction.

The company also owns, curiously enough, a small percentage of the company that makes Equal, the sugar substitute. And in February, Golden Boy bought a 25 percent interest in the Houston Dynamo, a Major League Soccer franchise, from the Anschutz Entertainment Group, which is run by billionaire Philip Anschutz. In a separate transaction, A.E.G., which owns 30 arenas across the country, purchased a minority interest in Golden Boy Promotions. The muscle and global reach of A.E.G. is expected to give Golden Boy a leg up in pursuing Olympic boxers who competed in this summer’s Beijing Games. A.E.G. has opened new stadiums in Beijing and London, and Schaefer envisions a pay-per-view simulcast featuring the first pro bouts of Olympic boxers on three continents.

Golden Boy’s most surprising investment is in the fast-fading world of print media. The Hispanic TV and radio markets have already been sliced up, but Spanish-language newspapers have operated as regional enterprises in a splintered trade. Golden Boy has a stake in ImpreMedia, publisher of the principal Hispanic newspapers in Los Angeles (La Opinión), Chicago (La Raza), New York (El Diario la Prensa and Hoy New York), and other major cities.

“Hispanics still read papers,” says Schaefer. Last year, one of Golden Boy’s subsidiaries purchased the Ring, the self-styled “bible of boxing,” along with three sister publications, for $7 million. De La Hoya promises to restore the ailing monthly to eminence by cross-promotion with some of the sponsors he has brought to the fight industry. And a boxing portal launched in collaboration with Yahoo will stream video of major bouts. He’s pledged to keep his hands off editorial content, and by all accounts, he has—at least so far.

“It’s a double standard,” protests King. “Had I bought the Ring, it would have been tantamount to treason.” In fact, in 1977 he did put out feelers. Alas, that same year, a magazine exposé revealed that the Ring’s ratings and its record book had been juggled to help King’s fighters in a nationally televised tournament. “I decided to just let it go,” he says with a sigh. “Why bring the condemnation of the nation upon myself?”

Other boxing promoters would be happy to see Golden Boy leave the ring for good. “They have no idea how to promote a fight,” says Arum. “One’s a banker, the other’s a boxer. No HBO executive in his right mind would agree to make Oscar a promotional partner.”

Kathy Duva of Main Events accuses Golden Boy of poaching other promoters’ fighters. “Oscar has had no success in building his own talent,” she says. “When Golden Boy hears that a young fighter’s contract is up, it moves in and pays a premium for his services.” King built his kingdom the same way, she says, “but he never talked about transparency.” Until recently, Duva managed a dozen fighters at a time. She’s now down to four. She says it takes an average of six years and $300,000 to build a fighter from scratch. “Those of us who have to make a living at promoting can’t anymore,” she says. “Golden Boy is trying to roll us up.”

Yet even the largely marginalized King claims to be a fan of De La Hoya’s. “Who am I to condemn, to vilify, to deprecate, to castigate?” he says. “I’m old and going on. Oscar is young and coming on. You can’t blame Golden Boy for amassing great promotional power in a time of boxing’s ‘niche-ization.’ Oscar didn’t create the situation; he just pounced on it. I applaud him for showing that fighters can think.” And Larkin, the former Showtime executive, argues that Golden Boy has endeared itself to HBO by “corporatizing” boxing promotion. “People like working with Golden Boy because they feel it’s clean,” he says. “It may or may not be—I don’t know—but that’s the perception. The company is reliable, realistic in its deal demands, and lives up to agreements. That’s saying an awful lot for a promoter.”

Schaefer adds, almost coyly, that jealousy is no more than feeling alone among smiling enemies. “When a Swiss banker and a kid from East L.A. appear out of nowhere to show people how things should be done, the crybabies attack them,” he says. “Which plays right into my cards. If the crybabies weren’t so obsessed with Golden Boy, they might actually pose a danger to me and Oscar.”

The question is, Will Golden Boy’s clout diminish once De La Hoya finally retires from fighting? “I’ll say this much,” says former H.B.O. exec Abraham. “It’s not going to increase.”