By Anthony Bosco
If I didn’t know better, I could have watched Saturday’s Mike Tyson fight against Clifford Etienne thinking it was just the latest in a steadily growing long line of guilty pleasure reality TV shows. Or maybe the next evolution of Vince McMahon’s wrestling empire.
But the boxer from the Brownsville section of Brooklyn is no “Joe Millionaire,” no “Bachelor” and he is not stuck in the Amazon on the newest installment of “Survivor.” He is America’s freak show, a once great athlete who may have millions and may be single but is surviving solely on name recognition.
I know Tyson whacked out Etienne in 49 seconds, which no matter how much of the loser’s chin may have been porcelain is no small feat. But Tyson is no longer a top notch heavyweight, I’m sad to say, but certainly the one man in the sport who can still generate headlines and water cooler conversations like no other.
This past week Tyson tattooed his face in a way Lennox Lewis hadn’t — which would have seemed impossible to me after watching the Brit heavyweight champ pound the pug from our neighboring borough some eight months ago.
Sporting a green quasi-tribal design on the left side of his face, Tyson strolled into the ring surrounded by his people, none of whom apparently could convince the former undisputed title holder that getting a tattoo painted on his face might not be a good idea a week before he was supposed to fight.
The walk took longer than the fight. The tattoo will last a lifetime.
I have to say, Tyson looked OK, tattoo and all. He bobbed, weaved and punched with “bad intentions.” That he was doing so against inferior opposition is forgivable, especially considering the last time he fought he ended the fight with blood streaming down his face and staring at the roof of the Pyramid in Memphis, Tenn.
The two combatants traded punches for a few seconds and clinched for a few more before the man they call “Iron Mike” delivered a textbook right hand to the side of Etienne’s head.
The “Black Rhino” fell over backwards from the force of the punch, nearly snapping his right leg in half in the process. Etienne grabbed his mouthpiece, took a quick nap and then tried vainly to beat the count of 10.
Tyson, in a display reminiscent of Jack Dempsey’s heyday, raced over to the fallen fighter and helped him to his feet.
Almost as entertaining as the fight, no, make that more entertaining than the fight, was Tyson’s televised interview in the ring following the bout, proving that if anyone needs a serious hug, Tyson is the guy.
I am making light of the situation, but Tyson’s life is a tragic tale. His family life in Brownsville was somewhat less than perfect, and he turned to crime at a very early age, mugging people on the street in his preteen years.
That led him to an upstate detention center for youths, where he discovered boxing. He eventually hooked up with legendary trainer Cus D’Amato, who took the young Tyson into his home.
The two developed a close bond over the years, with Tyson soaking up all the boxing knowledge he could get his hands on, all the while being groomed and sculpted into the perfect heavyweight boxer.
Less than 6 feet tall, Tyson weighed in at about 220 pounds during his prime. His neck was a frightening 20 inches around and his physique, while not that of a bodybuilder, was like a Panzer tank. Anything in front of Tyson got destroyed, it was that simple.
He tore through his opponents, beating some with his stare alone. He became the youngest heavyweight champion in history with a second-round knockout of Trevor Berbick and quickly unified the title with a series of bouts against Pinklon Thomas, Tony Tucker and, eventually, Michael Spinks, who was the linear champion although he held no belt.
That Spinks bout was the defining moment of Tyson’s career. He would never be better than those 91 seconds, when he completely annihilated the previously unbeaten Spinks.
What followed was a decade-long ride on the Tyson train to oblivion. He divorced wife/actress Robin Givens, lost his title to Buster Douglas and was incarcerated for the rape of a beauty pageant contestant.
After he got released from prison, Tyson recaptured a portion of the heavyweight crown, then lost it to Evander Holyfield, bit off part of Holyfield’s ear in the rematch — which he lost via disqualification — and was suspended from boxing for a year.
A couple of bizarre matches ensued against middle-of-the-road heavyweights such as Orlin Norris, Lou Savarese and Andrew Golata before Tyson got another shot at the title against Lewis.
Lewis clobbered him so convincingly that Tyson still has no problem admitting publicly that he is not ready to fight a rematch.
But that is probably what is going to happen. Lewis seems unwilling to fight the best challenger out there for him, Wladimir Klitschko, when the promoters, sanctioning bodies and public can all get fat watching him beat up Tyson again.
The freak show will continue as long as there are seven-digit paydays for Tyson to cash in. And the public will keep plunking down their collective cash as long as Tyson can still punch.
Reach Sports Editor Anthony Bosco by e-mail at TimesLedger@aol.com or call 718-229-0300, Ext. 130.
