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 Lennox Lewis celebrates after demolishing Mike Tyson |
Tyson's final chapter?
Let's hope so...at last!
By RON MILLER
of TheColumnists.com
Lewis vs. Tyson. It was a testament to the age we live in--the Age of Hype. It was a prizefight that shouldn't have been: Lennox Lewis, the seasoned and busy heavyweight champion of the world, vs. Iron Mike Tyson, the used-up ex-champ who hadn't fought anybody worth a hoot since 1997.
But Tyson still captured the imagination of the public with his ongoing act as The Thug, the Baddest of the Bad Boys of Professional Sports, so the match was made because it could generate millions of dollars.
And it ended like anyone should have expected: Lewis put a heavy beating on Tyson and knocked him out in 2:25 of the eighth round Saturday night.
Coming just a month or so after Irish Mickey Ward vs. Arturo Gatti, the bloodiest and most fiercely fought prizefight in decades, Lewis vs. Tyson was a sorry excuse for a fight. Tyson won only the first round, then plodded around the ring after Lewis, absorbing punishing left jabs, uppercuts and the right cross that finally put him down for the count of 10, both eyes already closing and his nose a bloody mess.
So, why did I pay $55 to watch it all by myself on pay-per-view television? Because it wasn't a fight at all, but rather the closing ceremony for the bizarre boxing career of Mike Tyson, a man who gave fight fans years of astonishing action, then more years of dreadful shame, both in and out of the ring.
At one time, Tyson was the unholy terror of the squared circle. He knew only one way to fight: March forward, swinging punches, until the other guy was demolished. He hadn't been able to do that against anybody of any talent for at least 10 years. Instead, he barnstormed Europe, punching out giant Italians stuffed with too much pasta, pudgy Danes who couldn't bend over to tie their shoelaces without provoking nosebleeds, or fainting Englishmen who began to pick out the place where they were going to fall before the referee had them touch gloves for round one.
The last good fighter he faced before Lewis was Evander Holyfield, who knocked him out in one bout, then won by disqualification in another when a frustrated and badly-outclassed Tyson tried to bite his ear off.
The Tyson who faced Lewis on June 8 was just an overmuscled little guy of 5-10, looking for a one-punch solution to a 6-5 boxer-puncher who hammered him at will once he got rid of the first round butterflies caused by Tyson's mean and nasty reputation. Nobody will ever call Tyson "Iron Mike" again. He showed up covered with rust and performed like a sleepwalker wearing a suit of armor that was too big for him.
I knew this would happen and I paid my money anyway. I wanted to see it, wanted to see Lewis humiliate the man who vowed he would eat Lewis' children and crush Lewis' skull. But once it started to happen, I hated myself for it. Tyson is just an over-the-hill bum, who owed the Showtime network $15 million and had to fight to get himself out of hock.
But Tyson will never get himself out of hock. The money will stop coming now and his army of hangers-on will go away. He won't even hold the respect of the black community much longer because he no longer seems quite as "bad" as they wanted him to be. I mean, he just got his butt kicked by an English heavyweight. That used to be a real disgrace until Lewis came along by way of Jamaica and Canada to fight for the Queen. Worse yet, Tyson actually behaved himself after his defeat, told the TV audience his nasty comments about Lewis were just made to sell tickets--and even reached out to wipe some blood off the champ's cheek on camera, a gesture I never thought I'd see Tyson execute in public.
What's left for Tyson? He wants a rematch. Who's gonna break the news to him? Goliath doesn't get a rematch after David flattens him. Where would they hold it? How about Spitzbergen or somewhere else in the Arctic Circle?
Watching Tyson vs. Lewis, I was reminded of Louis vs. Marciano. I don't think anybody ever believed the Brown Bomber was going to beat Rocky, but they went to see it anyway. I remember the pathetic newsreels showing a flabby Louis getting beat up by a white heavyweight no bigger than Tyson. It made me sick.
But Louis was beloved and people wanted to see him just one more time the way people wanted to hear Sinatra sing one more time, even if he couldn't hit any of the high notes anymore. Tyson isn't Louis. Nobody will want to hire him as a greeter, not even in Vegas. He may go on another Louis-style "bum of the month" campaign in Europe, but now some of those guys will start beating him up, too.
The only time I ever met Tyson was on the set of the old ABC sitcom "Webster," which featured Tyson as a guest star when he was heavyweight champion of the world. He was pleasant enough, but you could see his future ahead of him. He arrived with a bunch of buddies from the 'hood and they seemed to act the way I'm told leeches do on a host. They'll start dropping off now, but they'll have sucked him dry first.
I met Joe Louis once, too. That was back in the late 1950s at the old Hollywood Legion Stadium. He showed up to take a few bows before an Art Aragon fight. The whole crowd stood up as if he were playing "The Star-Spangled Banner." The man gave off good vibrations. He stood for decency.
We all know what kind of vibrations Tyson gives off and we know what he stands for, don't we? Nobody's going to stand up and salute when he goes by in future years. Still, he was a ferocious prizefighter in his day, the best of his era. That era ended a decade ago and Lennox Lewis just made that as plain as the bloody nose on Iron Mike's face.
© 2002 by Ron Miller.
The photo is from the AOL home page.
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