The bite fight : Tyson, Holyfield, and the night that changed boxing forever

237 Pages·2013·5.11 MB·English

by  Holyfield

—
To my wife, Teresa, thank you for your love and support.
To my daughter, Taylor, you are the joy of my life.
“A boxing match is like a cowboy movie. There’s got to be good guys and
there’s got to be bad guys. And that’s what people pay for—to see the bad guys
get beat.”
—Sonny Liston
Contents
FOREWORD BY MIKE TYSON
1. THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM
2. YOU’LL BE CHAMP SOMEDAY
3. Fighting for Gold
4. Becoming the Real Deal
5. Sharpening Iron Mike
6. Heavy Lies the Crown
7. On Again, Off Again
8. Prison to Pay-Per-View
9. Man in the Middle
10. When Rage Takes Over
11. Let the Chips Fall
12. EAR PIECE
13. Damage Control
14. THE LOVE OF THE GAME
15. LIFE ON LIFE’S TERMS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
BIBLIOGRAPHY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PHOTO GALLERY
Foreword by Mike Tyson
To have come from where I was on June 28, 1997, to where I am now, I am only
here because of the love and support I had from family and friends, in spite of
believing I deserved it. There are many things I am grateful for. However, there
are many things that I look back on with regret. The notorious ear-biting incident
that would become the pun of my life is one of those moments. I am sincerely
appreciative that I had an opportunity to make amends for my actions and that
Evander Holyfield was gracious enough to forgive me. I have a great deal of
respect for him and am glad our legacy as human beings doesn’t have to be
defined by this one disastrous moment.
When I look back on my second fight with Evander, I still can’t believe that I
bit his ear. I mean, what was I thinking?
I wasn’t. I just reacted—and badly at that. The world would never look at me
the same.
When people called me “the Baddest Man on the Planet” it was a role I
embraced that I thought I deserved because I worked hard to portray that image.
I was taught by Cus to believe I was “the Baddest Man on the Planet.” My every
waking moment was focused on being the best and believing I was the best. A
lot of people didn’t like my persona. They thought I was arrogant. I mastered the
art of manipulation and intimidation. This is what being “Mike Tyson” was all
about. I was the greatest actor to ever enter the ring.
The first time I met Evander Holyfield had to have been about 1983 when we
were in the amateurs. We heard about somebody beating Ricky Womack. We
thought that was incredible because Ricky Womack was a great fighter. We
wondered, Who is this Evander Holyfield guy?
Then when we met him he was such a country guy. But you could tell he was
a good man. Bible-belt type of guy.
If we could have fought earlier in our careers as professionals, I think I would
have done better. The first fight in 1990 got canceled. But to be honest, my mind
was so messed up I don’t think I really would have done well. I was dealing with
a great deal of emotional turmoil, and at that time I didn’t have the tools or
maturity to handle life’s blows constructively.
When I learned about the death of Hector “Macho” Camacho I thought that
could easily be me if I had not made some life-changing decisions. I’m very
blessed that I now have the opportunity to have another chance at a decent life. I
am a happily married man, striving every day to be a better father and a better
person all around. I have an amazing support team of people around me now and
I try to circumvent negative outcomes by staying away from dark people and
places. I’m working on not allowing my past to define me as the person I am
today. Some days are harder than others, but I am constantly working on myself
and working towards being the kind of person that makes my family proud—a
good guy doing good things.
Doing my one-man show, Mike Tyson: Undisputed Truth, has been a great
blessing. I have allowed myself to open up about the ups and downs in my life
and have given people an impactful look into what they thought they knew about
me. My story is about victories and triumphs, mistakes and heartbreak. It’s about
owning up to what you do and never accepting being labeled something you’re
not. Through this journey into self-analysis, I am learning. I like who I am these
days and because of it I believe it makes me more likeable to others.
My continuous life assignment now is remembering gratitude and to live my
life with dignity and being a good role model to my children. I am now in a
place in my life where I recognize my mortality quickly approaching and want to
be of service. I want to help underprivileged children and give them hope.
That’s why I am dedicated to building my foundation, Mike Tyson Cares. It’s
something I’ve embarked on because I believe that everyone should have hope,
even if their situation appears hopeless. I owe these kids an opportunity because
someone gave me one and I’d be nowhere if someone didn’t believe in me. Cus
D’Amato believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself and he made me
believe that I had a purpose and could live out my dream. If only he had told me
to be careful what I wished for. But, I realize, I am not defined by my mistakes.
My legacy doesn’t have to be defined by them either. I choose to continue
growing as a human being and helping make children’s lives better.
—Mike Tyson
www.MikeTysonCares.org
1. Third Time’s the Charm
It’s the fans that make a big fight. They hype it up with their words and finance
it with their dollars; they make it glitter with their wardrobes and their own
unique style. They debate who will win and they defend their reasons why. They
are passionate almost to a fault, understanding the ultimate thrill is to see their
warrior render his opponent unconscious. Blood and bruises are expected, if not
applauded. That is the essence of the Sweet Science.
It doesn’t matter if you’re filthy rich or weekend rich, being part of a highly
anticipated boxing event can be an orgasmic experience, especially when the
coveted world heavyweight championship is on the line.
The Grand Garden Arena at the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas
has become the premiere destination for such events. Since opening on
December 18, 1993, it has been host to concerts, award shows, tractor pulls, and
beauty pageants. But in terms of sheer anticipation, excitement, and energy,
nothing had come close to the excitement that filled the building on November 9,
1996.
Close to 17,000 people—some covered in jewels, some wearing jeans—were
all out of their seats standing and cheering as Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield
traded punches in the center of a boxing ring. For nine intense rounds, Holyfield,
a huge underdog despite being a former heavyweight champion, more than held
his own against the heavily favored Tyson, who was defending his WBA
heavyweight championship. Tyson thought Holyfield would be easy work, but
he was proving to be exactly what his nickname suggested: the Real Deal.
The harder Tyson punched, the harder Holyfield punched back. That’s why
the crowd was standing. The roars that filled the arena were deafening.
At this point in his life, Tyson had already earned a fortune, lost a fortune, and
was now in the process of doing it all over again with little concern about who
he faced in the ring. Holyfield was supposed to be another quick payday, a
means to collect more cash to spend on houses, cars, women, and jewels. “I’m
going to make $30 million Saturday night and sign for another $30 million on
Monday,” Tyson boasted during the press conference days before the fight.
This first fight between Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson had been years in
the making. It had been six years since their first fight was canceled and 12 years
since they had turned pro. Tyson was originally a 25:1 favorite when the fight
was announced, but only a 6:1 favorite when the bell rang to open the first
round. Holyfield, a two-time heavyweight champion, was viewed as washed up
after three wars with Riddick Bowe and a lackluster showing against the former
cruiserweight champion, Bobby Czyz.
But instead of dominating Holyfield as many thought, Tyson was getting
battered by the underdog. By the end of the ninth round, Tyson was cut over his
left eye and his body and ego were being badly bruised by the determined
Holyfield, who was expertly executing a simple game plan. “When he hits me,
I’m going to hit him back,” Holyfield had said.
That strategy, along with other psychological and technical warfare, had
Holyfield winning the bout and ruining Tyson’s post-prison comeback, which
was being orchestrated by the flamboyant boxing promoter Don King.
Until that night, it had all gone exactly how King scripted it in his genius—for
the most part. Tyson’s ex-wife, Robin Givens, was long gone, and so too were
his former managers, Bill Cayton and Jim Jacobs. Also gone was his longtime
trainer, Kevin Rooney, who had molded Tyson’s fighting style since he was a
troubled teenager living in the Catskills in upstate New York. King had Tyson
all to himself now, and his vision to maximize Tyson’s earning potential was just
getting started.
Three years in an Indiana prison after being convicted of raping Desiree
Washington had soured Tyson’s mood, but elevated his street cred. Now he was
idolized by gangsta rappers and the hip-hop generation. Iron Mike was also now
known as “the Baddest Man on the Planet.”
He could still knock people out, too. He had wiped out Peter McNeeley in
Round 1 of his celebrated comeback fight on August 19, 1995; and after
knocking out Buster Mathis Jr. in three rounds the following December, he
recaptured the WBC championship by taking out a terrified Frank Bruno in three
rounds.
One viable threat to Tyson’s supremacy was avoided when Tyson gave up his
WBC title instead of fighting the mandatory challenger, Lennox Lewis, a former
Olympic champion from England, who was unbeaten. King was not about to risk
his hold on the heavyweight championship and its future riches by having Tyson
fight the 1988 gold medal winner at Seoul, Korea. At 6950, Lewis was seven
inches taller than Tyson and possessed an 84-inch jab that could make it difficult
for the stockier Tyson to get inside.
Instead of fighting Lewis, Tyson gave up his WBC belt the same night he
knocked out a less-than-imposing Bruce Seldon in one round on September 7,
1996, to capture the WBA heavyweight crown. Owning the WBA or WBC made
no difference as long as Tyson had a title and looked invincible.
From the outside looking in, it seemed things couldn’t be better for Tyson. But
if he thought he was calling the shots on his career, he was wrong. He’d given up
that right days before being released from prison when he signed an exclusive
promotional agreement with Don King Productions, giving Don King the
exclusive right to promote his bouts. King then used the agreement to negotiate
exclusive deals with Showtime Network, the MGM Grand, and the Fox
Network, deals that would make King a very rich man and Tyson not as rich as
he thought.
Within three years, Tyson would file a $100 million lawsuit in a U.S. District
Court in New York, charging King with diverting millions of dollars of Tyson’s
money through accounting manipulations, improper deductions, and reductions
in Tyson’s potential profit participation.
Tyson, however, was blind to all that when he stepped into the ring to face
Holyfield for the first time. He was looking to replenish his bank account for his
next spending spree. The $21.5 million King had given him the day he was
released from prison was nearly gone. And the millions he made for beating
McNeeley, Mathis, Bruno, and Seldon were being spent like sand through the
hour glass.
But Holyfield was supposed to be just another easy fight for Tyson. Despite
having won the heavyweight title two previous times, the 34-year-old Holyfield
was supposed to be washed up.
He had gone 4–3 in the last seven fights and looked awful in his most recent, a
close decision over Czyz. Many in the boxing media had suggested it was time
for Holyfield to retire. His skills had seemingly diminished and the health of his
heart was also in question.
The belief was Holyfield had waited too long to face Tyson. Yet it was a fight
that was inevitable since the day they met as youngsters trying to make the 1984
Olympic team. Holyfield would eventually settle for a bronze medal in Los
Angeles and become celebrated because of the humble way he accepted being
disqualified for hitting after the bell in his semifinal bout.
Tyson lost a box-off to Henry Tillman and didn’t make the U.S. squad. But he
went on to captivate the sport with his knockout prowess as a professional.
Dressed in black trunks, with black shoes, no socks and no robe, he became an