The Sweet Scientist: Lennox Lewis Brings Mike Tyson's Spectacle Back to Earth

Scott Thill

Sleeping with the enemy? Tyson makes peace with the gays and others he bashes on a regular basis. (REUTERS/Jeff J Mitchell)

"We are a society of enablers. We've allowed this cartoon character to develop over the years, and we still cheer for him against someone like Lewis, who seems to be a decent guy. I probably wouldn't order the rematch, but it says something about the state of boxing that I definitely would not order the next Lewis fight. He's a great boxer, but I have no interest in him. Tyson's cloak of unpredictability, now that interests me." -- Peter King, Sports Illustrated

Now that he's made Mike Tyson's face look like Jake La Motta's in Raging Bull, it's more than hypocritical to see everyone from sportswriters to Tyson himself finally hand over the heavyweight props to the baddest Rastafarian (when he wants to be) on the planet, Lennox Lewis. Especially considering that so many lauded -- whether in the form of victory endorsements or pay-per-view millions -- real-life raging bull Mike Tyson prior to the fight. Perhaps they were cowed by his fakery, his bravado, and his rap sheet, but either way they claimed him the winner of a fight that anyone within three feet of a real boxing ring would give to the larger, more technically proficient Lewis. Freakishly enough, some papers said that it was indeed the purportedly glass-jawed Lewis' reputation that was on the line, even though he has dispatched almost every boxer sent his way, while Tyson had not beaten a serious opponent in almost a decade.

Stamp this! "'I already stamped my legacy in the immortal history of boxing,' Tyson said, cleverly positioning his use of the term, 'immortal.'" (AP Photo/Laura Rauch)

Tyson himself, always a lie detector conundrum, was not immune to his own vapors. "I already stamped my legacy in the immortal history of boxing", he said, cleverly positioning his use of the term, "immortal". There was no immediate clarification as to just what that legacy contained, other than a string of failures to better fighters, victories over nobodies, and more outside-the-ring drama than a top-notch Hollywood screenwriter could conjure.

Even other boxers who should know better got in on the Lennox Lewis dogpile. WBC welterweight champion Vernon Forrest told BoxingInsider.com that "Boxing is Mike Tyson, and Mike Tyson is boxing", disposing with clever usage altogether in favor of short-sighted hyperbole. "Everybody can't wait to see what happens, and what Mike is going to do". Forrest might have been talking about the action inside the ring, but the available contexts -- as in, "What Mike is going to do when he loses and goes postal on the Memphis Pyramid" -- are nonetheless applicable. "What Mike is going to do" has been the penumbra tailing Tyson ever since he stepped out of jail after serving time on his rape conviction. Who else will Mike rape? Who else will Mike bite? What monstrous act will Mike execute within range of a camera or a microphone?

Big ups, Rasta! "Some papers said that it was Lewis' reputation on the line, even though he has dispatched most everyone, while Tyson had not beaten a serious opponent in a decade." (AP Photo/Laura Rauch)

Hey, there's a reason that his Playstation 2 game, Mike Tyson Heavyweight Boxing, contains more than 600 power punches, blows, and, of course, illegal moves.

Speaking of gaming, there hasn't been this much of a sports bet gimme since the similarly hyped (and equally unprepared and lesser talented) junior welterweight Zab Judah got cold-cocked into an embarassing duckwalk by the more professional and harder hitting Kostya Tszyu. Like Tyson against Holyfield, Judah went nuts, threw a chair, tried to choke the ref and basically made himself look like an idiot. All of which doesn't explain why it wasn't until the Saturday before the fight that some were finally lowering odds on a Tyson KO because smart bettors were taking advantage of the hysteria, knowing that they would easily cash in. They must have known that, for one thing, it's a sure bet to go against anything said by Neil Cavuto -- Fox News Network's talking head on all things business-related -- who picked a Tyson KO in round three during, of course, an interview with Showtime CEO, Matthew Blank, whose network owns Tyson's televised fight rights.

Lesson learned? Whatever Fox predicts, go the other way.

But to be fair, everyone bought (literally) into a Tyson victory because the spectacle has always been greater than the science when it comes to the ticket-buying, pay-per-view-purchasing public. "What Mike is gonna do" is the inverted question on everyone's lips, which means that they're never looking at the other guy who, at least in the last ten years, has ended up being the better fighter. Superstition, especially when it comes to Tyson, has always been favored over knowledge, and superstition, whether numerology and lottery tickets or religious beliefs, has always paid the bills, although usually for those on the other side of those leaps in faith.

It is for those reasons that very few considered that not only was Lewis the larger fighter, but the longer-armed one, a nugget of wisdom that, practically applied, would settle this question of victory by itself. Like the ebullient Cuba Gooding, Jr. said before the fight, "You gotta put a hand on the brother". How the shorter Tyson was going to manage that was evidently not the concern of Cavuto, et al, who, like Tyson and his camp of crusaders, simply thought that Lewis would run scared from Iron Mike. But Lewis is no wimp, he's the heavyweight champion, and champions are not afraid of bullies.

More Sports

"Kobe as MJ? Please. Ruben Patterson calls himself the Kobe Stopper; who ever called himself the Jordan Stopper?"

"Without further ado, a pic-by-pic rendering of Tszyu's demolition and Zab Judah's incoherent defense of his knucklehead outburst."

"Jesse Ventura referred to Bud Selig's case as 'asinine,' as Selig pretzeled himself into a full nelson and pleaded to be treated unlike any other American business."

"The noble contribution to baseball by an ingenious man -- his name long misplaced -- has been victim of an Oliver Stone sized cover-up for the better part of the last decade."

Or baldies, as Lewis indirectly pointed out as he strode peacefully into the arena to the lilt of Bob Marley's "Crazy Baldhead", whose chorus, "We're going to chase these crazy baldheads outta town", said more than enough for the comparatively (to Tyson anyway) silent fighter. Lewis knew that all this pre-fight blather about Tyson promising to eat Lewis' unborn children, to smear his brains across the wall, to crush his skull was nothing but something to sell tickets. And magazines, which explains why we got Sports Illustrated's cover story, "Monster's Ball", featuring a maniacally grinning Iron Mike, instead of (at least!) one Lennox Lewis write-up. All of this coverage of Mike was not so much a diss or blemish on Lewis' own professionalism and boxing smarts -- it was, as Tyson said about his antics directly after the fight, "stuff . . . to help the promotion".

The fact that journalists and talking heads (Cavuto, I'm still shaking my own head) fell for it tells you how much they know about business more than how much they know about sports. They, like everyone else in punditry, just want to sell you something.

And Tyson is no moron. His grace under defeat, his wish for another chance at redemption against Lewis (yeah, sure), and his "immortal" legacy are all tied together by one word: money. He pocketed around $20 million for his bout with Lewis, but most of it was already earmarked for debts created by everything from pigeon food to female company. Which is why when it was all over he kissed Lewis' mom on the cheek (hey, Mike, she's the grandmother of Lewis' unborn children!), asked for a rematch, and looked to another future payday, before he, like ex-badass Larry Holmes, goes on the joke circuit to fight sideshows like Butterbean.

No, as usual, the joke is on the public, who once again fell (and paid) for Tyson's garish theatrics, leg-biting melees, crotch-grabbing press conferences, so-called insightful Sports Illustrated spreads, and mediated madness, mistaking it for truth. But truth is usually stranger than fiction. And this story is one we've read again and again.

Thank god Lewis' jab took not just Tyson, but his hordes of crusaders out, as well. Maybe now we can get back to watching real fighters fight, rather than bite, each other.

Scott Thill is a gainfully employed dotcom editor currently finishing his first novel, The Dangerous Perhaps. He had his money on Lewis the whole time. Really.