LAS VEGAS – The gapped-tooth sneer is the same. So are the black eyes that at times look like those of a madman, perhaps dipped in evil. They tell you he is capable of just about anything – and his actions solidify this point. The tattoos that cover his beefy torso and make you confused about whether to look at him or read him will always make him look scary.
But there is something different about Mike Tyson: You aren’t intimidated by him.
Yes, partly because you’re not in the ring with him. But also because the notion that used to emanate from him – that he is this ring beast filled with a power and rage that makes him indestructible – is dead. You used to watch him because the dark side in you told you so. You wanted to see him destroy another man. You wanted to see how that man would fall: Would it be bloody? Would it be grisly?
Now you know Tyson is not only human, but highly beatable. There is no more fascination.
Maybe that’s why it wasn’t the same during Tyson’s bout against Francois Botha last night at the MGM Grand Garden Arena, the place where 19 months ago Tyson gnawed on Evander Holyfield’s ears. It was just another fight night.
There used to be an electric feeling before one of Tyson’s fights. The countdown to carnage, so to speak. It was intoxicating.
And they would all be here. All of the famous and infamous. Nothing like the smell of blood to bring out the money crowd. If you wanted to be seen, this was the stage. You would see them in the casino gambling fortunes for most. They wore purple suits and a gold tooth, and were accompanied by more than one woman with silicone breasts. They would carry $300 bottles of Louis Crystal champagne, sipping from both hands. It was always a scene.
Some were here last night. Most opted to stay home. Ticket sales were slow all week. The biggest buzz was of the Broncos and Jets, and whom to bet on.
“This is the most dead I’ve ever seen it for a Tyson fight,” lamented one local taxi driver.
For Tyson’s first return – following his three-and-half years in jail – they still believed. It didn’t matter the opponent was Peter McNeeley. Tyson had only one loss and that could be explained by a fluke. This time, they wouldn’t be fooled again. Tyson had two more losses and his myth stripped.
What fun would it be to watch him beat up on Botha when he couldn’t beat Holyfield? Botha – the South African with the bloated record (39-1) – was waiting to fall last night. He was merely a 7-1 underdog thrilled to play sacrificial lamb for $1.85 million. He remembered his lines well, saying: “I’m not going to let him intimidate me. Mike Tyson is going to have a fight on his hands.”
You didn’t believe him. Like you don’t believe Tyson will ever approach the same status he once held in this sport. Think how long it’s been since Tyson was Iron Mike or Kid Dynamite. He was perhaps at his peak the night he finished Michael Spinks in 91 seconds. That was in 1988.
What is he now? Someone in it to pay his IRS bill. He earned $10 million for this fight, but what he didn’t earn was the respect he once had as a fighter. That you doubt will ever come back.
The trick for new manager Shelly Finkel will be to build the notion back. One knockout at a time. Over one carefully-picked opponent at a time. Tyson will fight again April 24. Who’s next? Axel Schultz, Lou Savarese, Andrew Golota, George Foreman are among the potential victims. It will be a four-fight, year-long process to pique your interest for the third bout against Holyfield in 2000 sometime.
And it won’t matter what happens then. Because that fight will be the biggest ever, if only because of the freak show appeal.
“He can’t beat me. He ain’t in my class,” Tyson said.
He was talking about Botha, not Holyfield. Of course, he wasn’t talking about Holyfield.
Tyson did a lot of talking this week. Most of it was a lot smoke, laced with profanity. It wasn’t intriguing anymore. It was tired.
Because it couldn’t deter you from the underlying fact: Mike Tyson is not the same.
