I squandered my resistance on a pocketful of mumbles

by anna at 07:07 PM on June 13, 2005

I am floored that is is so over for Mike Tyson. I'm even more amazed at how it ended for him. No blaze of glory, no flameout, just sitting listlessly on a stool in his corner. Seconds before some hulking white guy had shoved him to the canvass like a punk. Word is he looked like he'd survived a stoning. He later admitted that his career was over in 1990 and that everything thereafter was a sham.

Since that time he's raped someone, gone to prison, wrapped his Bentley around a tree in a bizarre botched suicide attempt, tried to break two fighters' arms, gotten DQed for blatant head-butting, gnawed off somebody's ear, accosted an old man after a fender-bender, hurled a TV out a window when guards refused to bring his meds, told a heckler he'd fuck him till he loved him, squandered a fortune, divorced two women, lost 3 of his last 4 fights and admitted he can't bring himself to kill bugs infesting his home.

When he hung it up it signaled the end of heavyweight boxing as a major sport. (Name all or even one of the current alphabet soup champs.) It's gotten so perverse that Tyson banked $6 m to fight a man who he later disparaged as a tomato can and yet was cleearly the better fighter, who got only $150,000. It took him all of 18 minutes to silence Tyson, who'd claimed he'd gut McBride like a fish. All talk.

Ah but it wasn't always that way. Neither my wife nor I are big boxing fans. And yet we used to tune in religiously whenever he'd fight. Just the spectacle of him showing up sans robe, entourage or even socks, pacing around with that menacing scowl as if he had pressing engagements afterwards were enough to strike mortal fear into his opponents' hearts. And he'd back it up. Usually it'd be over before it began with Tyson charging across the ring to unleash a ferocious barrage of pure offense, leaving them in a heap. His foes looked like they'd been ripped limb from limb by a crazed hyena.

As Oscar Wilde once said, it isn't bragging if you can do it.

I'd liken Tyson to Christina Aguilera. Both were blessed with unreal natural talent. But they painted themselves into a corner with their increasingly outlandish behavior and appearance. Now they are both sad parodies ot their former selves. She looks like Dee Snyder's ugly sister. Half his face is tattooed with some Japanese imagery.

Speaking o' which, in the 80s it was all about the Mikes: Tyson, Jackson and Jordan. Jackson's career is in shambles and like Tyson he faces a mountain of debt with no means to pay. (Two words: HisStory.) Even the iconic Jordan returned for a forgettable stint here with the Washington Wizards. No playoffs, no scoring titles, no soaring dunks and the pitiful legacy of his #1 pick Kwame Brown. The Wizards suspended him during their playoff run this year.

Where does Tyson go from here, then? He's 38 with a 40 year life expectancy. Does he sink to the pathetic trade show/state fair/casino greeter circuit? Or keep fighting until somebody beats him to death a la Boom Boom Mancini, putting him out of his misery at long last? No, what he needs to do is secure the rights to all his spectacular early fights. Then he needs to patch together all the furious final rounds, with his crushing of highly touted Michael Spinks as the finale. (Spinks never set foot in the ring again.) Aside from the gal he raped, the guy whose ear he chewed off, his two exes and that old man, who wouldn't plunk down $50 for that triumph of violent artistry? I know I would.