A COLD fog cloaked the Boardwalk as 10,000 stunned fans spilled out of Atlantic City's cavernous Convention Centre after they had witnessed what should be the end of Sugar Ray Leonard's thrilling boxing career.

The gloom which hung over New Jersey's depressing gambling resort was tangible. Hector "Macho" Camacho, a loud-mouthed human self-destruct mechanism from Puerto Rico, had stopped Leonard in five rounds to leave this once great boxer as just another middle-aged man who came here, gambled and failed.

Many had arrived cherishing memories of Leonard's glory nights. But his epic contests against Roberto Duran, Tommy Hearns and Marvin Hagler clouded their judgment.

For months, he argued that we should forget it, but the truth had been revealed savagely by Terry Norris six years ago in Madison Square Garden when Leonard looked a shot fighter. This merely confirmed the fact.

Hagler spoke from his home in Milan prior to Saturday's contest. He said Leonard's latest comeback was ill conceived, and his health was at risk. Mercifully, the greatest damage inflicted by Camacho was to the self esteem of his opponent.

Leonard was given a rapturous reception as he stepped into the ring to the sound of the Michael Jackson Bad. But there was an apprehensive look on the old champion's face when Camacho joined ludicrously decked out in a Roman centurion uniform matching those of the Caesar's palace security staff.

His worries looked well-founded as he failed to land a single meaningful punch in the opening round and fell clumsily to the floor after one lunge. The fleet footwork of old was non-existent.

Later, Leonard claimed he had aggravated a calf injury which had interrupted his preparations for the contest. Camacho, positively oozing confidence in the week before the fight, once said he liked his wife to boo at him in bed. "It turns me on," he claimed. After the bulk of the crowd had hooted their derision, he was suitably inspired to slip quickly into a neat rhythm, forcing Leonard back.

By the fourth round, Leonard was at last beginning to put his combinations together, but they provided only an illusory success. And as a clash of heads sent him back to his corner with blood seeping from a gash over the left eye, Camacho seized his opportunity. As Leonard pitched forward on unsteady legs, the Puerto Rican nailed him with a classic short left upper cut.

Leonard never lacked fighting heart. Somehow he got to his feet, but seconds later referee Joe Cortez was cradling the old fighter's head to his shoulder. The last contest in Ray Leonard's great career had been stopped 68 seconds into round five with Camacho raining unanswered blows on to his stricken opponent.

Leonard said afterwards: "My career is definitely over in the ring. I'm through. Nobody wants to stop. But this is a pretty good indication. Boxing gave me character. People ask how I would like to be remembered. The fact is, I'm just as gracious as a loser as I am as a winner."

He was as good as his word, paying tribute to Camacho as "a great little fighter." He added: "He was much more focused than when he beat Roberto Duran, he fought a superb fight. I tried to establish my jab, but every time I reached with the right I was off balance. He was always one step ahead."

Speaking directly to his conqueror after the fight, Leonard embraced him and advised him to clean up his life.

Camacho said he was going home to patch up his rocky relationship with his long-suffering wife Amy, saying he'd partied throughout his career. Now, it was time to act with a little more responsibility to his family.

At 34, this philandering egotist has secured the most eye-catching win of a career which has never previously fulfilled its true potential. He cheerfully said he had "stepped up to another level" and was eyeing the winner of the WBC welterweight title fight next month between Pernell Whittaker and Oscar De La Hoya as a possible opponent.

"I'm pretty sure I could beat Whittaker. There may not be too much left of him after this. Oscar is a tough, bad boy. Whittaker's a southpaw, like me, so let's see how De La Hoya copes."

Leonard limped away, his pretty boy features suddenly seeming older. He will return to his new love, golf, and to the less hazardous world of boxing commentary.

Last week, when asked to contemplate the possibility of defeat he said: "Hell, if I do lose, so be it. If one defeat can tarnish or spoil a career, it can't have been much of a career in the first place."

Leonard was the man who first dazzled in the Olympics. He came back from defeat against Duran to psychologically destroy one of the hardest men of all. He beat Hearns when the "hit man" was in his prime and produced the pivotal boxing moment of a decade by beating Hagler.

Sadly, like so many of the great ones, he took on one too many in search of a fleeting moment of glory and one more roar of acclamation from those who paid to watch.

Tears of anguish were shed by some in that Atlantic City crowd.

Perhaps, away from the spotlight in which he has always revelled, Sugar Ray joined them. He was a proud fighter and reflected finally: "Always coming back and trying to defy the odds is one thing, but there comes a point in life where you have to admit you just don't have it. I don't feel bad because I gave it 100 per cent. Losing to Camacho is not all that bad, because he deserved it."