BOXING: Tyson Leaves No Middle Ground

The World Series starts on Saturday, taking up all the attention in New York City and rest of the country. The National Football League is in season, as is the National Hockey League. The National Basketball Association is going through the motions of its exhibition season. But something will still receive just as much coverage. Just as many people will want to know what happens. It's Mike Tyson versus Andrew Golota. The American ear chewer against the Polish low blower. The jokes have been made, repeated a thousand times over. But still, there will be people that want to watch. That want to know. Because it's Tyson. The man who personifies the artistry and simultaneous savagry of the sport known as boxing. We watch Tyson because he still brings out something in his fight we haven't seen before, whether it a knockout punch from an unique angle or the chewing of body parts. Boxing as a sport is showing signs of death. There is no Sugar Ray Leonard to cheer for, no Marvin Hagler that stalks his opponents. Roy Jones Jr. is a magnificent talent, but has no rival to match up against him, leaving most of his fights an exercise, no more than sparring for millions. There are fighters like Shane Mosley, but how many people on the street can tell you who he is, or what weight he fights at? Oscar de la Hoya is recognizable, but for his out of the ring exploits, not because of his boxing, which lately has been middle of the road. Lennox Lewis has reached the peak of his career, but who cares other than the British? Michael Grant was supposed to be the next big thing, but instead was a tomato can with superstar hype. David Tua is supposed to be good. Still, nothing to hang the sport's hat on. The most recognizable people in the sport today are Muhammed Ali, Don King and Tyson. When somebody looks at Ali, they are cruelly hit with the reality of what boxing does to a person when he hangs on for too long. When somebody looks at King, they look at the absolute downfall of the sport. Tyson, they look at, and they can't come to a consensus. Does he still have the power of his youth? Is he a raging, maniacal man with the ability and lack of self-control to do absolutely anything? When Tyson fights, each time, people hope for a blast from the past. Instead, they get dropped to a new low. And still, the next time after that, Tyson renews hope again. Sports, at the heart of it, is a spectacle. Tyson is a performer. We expect something different each time he steps into a ring, whether it be good or bad. And the worse he gets, the more we want to see him again. You can say it doesn't matter anymore, that Tyson is washed up — well, he is. Far past his best years as a boxer, Tyson is now no more than a puncher who can end a fight with one blow, but cannot win a fight with tactics or jabs. That never was his style. Tyson's style, now as it was in the past, is intimidation. Tyson intimidated opponents into fearful, cowering creatures who were thankful they were only knocked out and not killed. But then came his time in jail for rape, his loss for Evander Holyfield, and Tyson's biggest weapon was gone. People weren't intimidated by him anymore. They saw him as beatable, something that, even after losing to Buster Douglas, Tyson was never thought of. People go into the ring against Tyson now thinking that they can win. So often, they go out wondering how they were able to survive. Various medications have been documented as to Tyson's use. They create a unstable version of Tyson, the version of controlled aggression in his youth to outlandish behavior of the present. The Tyson as champion was feared, but relatively controlled in his behavior. Now, Tyson can't do anything without lashing out. Lashing out at the media. Lashing out at referees, medical and boxing commissions, opponents. Tyson has made himself into a traveling freak show, something that he is all too well-aware of. He knows that how people perceive him. And despite his claims to the contrary, he seems to like it. How else to describe why he acts the way he does? Tyson, at the heart of it, is boxing personified. We want to see blood. We want to see somebody hurt. We want to see a spectacle, a spectacle of outlandish proportions that takes us away from the ordinary day-in, day-out business of life. The sport of boxing relies on the brutality of two men, the ability and desire to inflict pain and terror in the mind and body of an opponent. Tyson has inflicted plenty of pain and terror in his career, which can easily be split into two parts. At the first part, it was on his opponent that he inflicted pain, to our cheers. But now, the terror, the pain, it is on us. The terror of what he will do next. The pain of how we constantly ask for more.