Boxing's revival threatened by Tyson's title threat

Well over a century ago, a classical American author who has left an enduring imprint upon many generations of Americans clarified an erroneous report of his passing with a memorable quotation,

"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated," he said.

Those who have followed the Sweet Science, from either a historical or recreational perspective, are fully aware the Samuel Clemens's maxim has been applied to professional boxing at numerous points throughout the late 19th and 20th century.

Every time boxing has received its last rites, a dynamic force exploded upon the fistic scene to produce a renewal of excitement and public interest. The arrival of Dempsey and Kearns in the late teens was a presage to boxing's first million-dollar gate when Dempsey-Carpentier in 1921 shaped a reign by the Manassa Mauler that paralleled the prosperity of the roaring twenties. When Tunney pummeled Dempsey in the rain at Philadelphia in 1926 and retired three years hence, the heavyweight division witnessed a parade of second tier champions and a corresponding decline in public support for boxing that was swiftly reversed by the meteoric ascent of one Joseph Louis Barrow.

Even Joe's KO loss to Schmeling provided world theater after Louis lifted Braddock's crown in 1937, setting the stage for a prizefight that transcended sport and served as a foreshadowed America's entry into World War II.

The entrenched element of organized crime and its infiltration throughout boxing reached a crescendo with the arrival of Sonny Liston upon the heavyweight ranks in the late 1950's. Liston was a criminal, a violent thug who scored one crushing knockout after another until the popular, polite and weak chinned Floyd Patterson could avoid him no longer. Even JFK hinted to Floyd that denying the ex-convict a title opportunity would be in boxing's best interests.

However, Floyd felt Liston earned the title bout and in two minutes and six seconds the championship changed hands, leaving the most prestigious title in the world on the edge of the underworld.

A long reign was forecast for Liston, if he could avoid a return trip to the penitentiary. Boxing was in need of rescue and the ascendancy of Cassius Clay, lightly regarded as title timber who narrowly missed a KO defeat to Britain's Henry Cooper in 1963, did not seem to pose any threat to Liston. Yet, Clay's greatness was a work in progress and his predictions, poetry and utter fearlessness of the brutal champion resulted in the big upset that really wasn't an upset at all. Clay/Ali was not merely a great champion, he was the greatest off all time, taking the heavyweight championship from Frankfurt to Manila to Kinshasa and demonstrating unmatched courage in and out of the ring.

There has always been a towering figure to appear and reenergize boxing and help clear away the cobwebs of corrupt promoters, underworld control and manipulated ratings that lend an aura of incredulity to the sport.

That leads us to Michael Gerard Tyson.

Undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the World at 21. Nine overpowering title defenses and an appearance of all time greatness that suggested a reign and title defense record surpassing that of Louis. He was utterly dominant, hit as hard as Smokin' Joe during Ali-Frazier I, had the hand speed of a young Patterson and the chin of Dempsey at Boyle's 30 acres. Breeding fear and violence in and out of the ring he began surrendering to his demons, one by one. He entered the 1990s with his title intact and then it was gone. Buster Douglas was a good heavyweight. A ramrod jab, and solid uppercut and a respectable chin.

Good, not great. Not anywhere nearly good enough to topple a Michael Gerard Tyson anywhere near his peak. Yet he pumped jab after jab into Tyson's face, faced him down in ring center, picked himself off of the deck after absorbing the Champion's best shot, and knocked him out in ten rounds. The fight itself wasn't even close.

However, it was the Mike Tyson of the 1990s that cast the dark shadow over professional boxing. As if his association with Don King, who made Champions and destroyed careers, wasn't bad enough. The rape conviction and subsequent incarceration placed the enduring stamp on the soiled greatness of Mike Tyson. The damage done to boxing was incalculable. Of all the times the sport has been pronounced dead over the past century it was mostly hyperbole. There was Dempsey, Louis, Marciano and Ali to arrive and capture the adulation and awe of the sporting public. Yet, the Tyson comeback in 1995 was not met with the excitement and expectations of Ali when he met Quarry at Atlanta. With the ex-titleholder and ex-convict came his fury, his resentment and his precarious mental state. When he said he wanted to kill Lennox Lewis and eat his children, he wasn't engaging the Champion in public to build the gate. He meant it!

Boxing's hold on the sporting public during the 1990s was precarious at best. The foundation of public support the sport always enjoyed, even during its lowest times, had all but vanished. There were virtually no unified champions, save Roy Jones, Jr. The once legendary Middleweight Division was an afterthought and the Jones, pound for pound the greatest fighter on the planet, seemed unable, or perhaps unwilling, to cement his greatness, as Ali had against Frazier, Graziano against Zale and Leonard against Hagler.

Only Holyfield carried the mantle of greatness, and legitimacy, through three reigns as Heavyweight Champion and two triumphs over Tyson that not only dethroned him after his brief second reign as WBA Champion, it dismantled him. Tyson's mutilative attack against Holyfield during their return, in the face of a certain repeat of his KO loss the previous year, seemed to spell the end of Mike as a viable title threat.

The ascendancy, and permanency, of Lennox Lewis reign further diminished the likelihood of a return of Iron Mike to the championship and even the probability of a Lewis-Tyson title bout seemed to spell certain defeat for Mike, rage notwithstanding, and his ultimate departure from the fistic scene.

As Tyson began to recede, and the public expectation of his regaining the championship continued to fade, a discernable revival began for the Sweet Science. Glamour bouts began dotting the landscape, such as DeLahoya-Trinidad, DeLahoya-Mosley, Trinidad-Joppy and Hopkins-Trinidad dotted the fistic scene and a reawakening of pubic interest in anticipation of the marquee bouts was witnessed. The Lewis knockout loss to Hasim Rahman was an upset along the lines of Douglas-Tyson and for the first time since a portion of Holyfield's ear was deposited on the canvas at Las Vegas it was boxing they were talking about around the water cooler and at the diner the following morning.

However, it was the Rahman knockout of Lewis that threw a life line to Tyson. The Briton had a weak chin and the pubic had just about forgotten his dramatic one punch stoppage at the hands of journeyman Oliver McCall seven years earlier. Suddenly Rahman was McCall redux and the Englishman was shockingly knocked out. The new champion is viewed in many circles as no better than Ingemar Johansson, Leon Spinks or Buster Douglas, all short term titleholders who were flawed champions whose reigns were quickly short-circuited in their initial title defenses.

Now the Rahman-Lewis return is pending and the sentiment in many boxing circles is that a prepared Lewis will rediscover his title form and regain the title, probably inside the distance. Yet, the return of Lewis to the championship will only serve to hasten the momentum towards a Lewis-Tyson championship bout in 2002. Tyson hasn't a glimmer of the explosiveness, blinding hand speed and utter domination that characterized his 1986-1990 championship reign. However, he is still a formidable puncher who inspires fear and would be an odds on favorite to reclaim the title from either Lewis or Rahman.

That would be bad for boxing. It would undue the painstakingly slow recovery the Sweet Science has experienced over the past 18 to 24 months. The style, power and class of worthy champions such as Felix Trinidad, Shane Mosley and Roy Jones, Jr would slowly be submerged by the surly Tyson, should he regain the crown. Most assuredly a Tyson return to the Heavyweight Title would lead to another episode, another disgrace, and another scandal that would critically, if not fatally, injure boxing as a viable public attraction in this country, and throughout the world.

Tyson remains a sinister figure, who, courtesy of a weakened Heavyweight Class and the end of the Holyfield era, is a legitimate championship threat. He won't go away. There is not enough talent to dispose of him and the one heavyweight who mastered him is at the end of the trail.

With Lewis and Rahman his only serious threats, Tyson could not only reclaim the crown, he could reign for several years and ultimately cement boxing's demise.