The Lewis/Tyson Disaster Survival Kit

By Jonathan David Morris

04.06 - India and Pakistan. India and Pakistan. Turn on the news or pick up the paper, it's nothing but India and Pakistan. Enough already. We get the point. We heard it the first time. There might be fewer inhibitions between these countries than there are nuclear weapons, but, by God, check your local listings will you? It's almost time for Lennox Lewis versus Mike Tyson, pound-for-pound the most potentially disastrous war of them all.

Ask yourself which crossfire you'd rather get caught in. No, seriously. Ask. If you think back on Tyson's bout with Lou Savarese, I'm confident you'll go with India and Pakistan. Old Man Mike hits everyone and everything with bad intentions, referees and lockers not excluded, and that's when he's in a good mood. If it's between his wayward fists and an existence-altering war arsenal, with apologies to Robert Plant, I'm moving to Kashmir.

Now, ask yourself which battle you'd rather watch and the answer's more obvious than Lewis's old school jab. Everyone likes an old fashioned car wreck every now and again, right? Personally, I haven't purchased a pay-per-view card in years -- call it a moral stand, call it frugality, call it what you will -- but next Saturday night, rest assured, I'll be watching. If they have to pry the remote from my cold, dead hands, I'll be watching.

As will the rest of the world, I'd imagine.

Yes, it's that rarest of rare occasions, the monumental heavyweight title fight. It's when the rest of the world catches up with and subsequently converges upon the sweet science. Indeed, it's when the rest of the world thinks it can speak intelligently about boxing, how the sport is out of control and how it should be banned. Of course, boxing fans know better. Boxing fans know that the rest of the world should be banned from watching. Boxing fans also know that the rest of the world's comments on boxing sound about as smooth as a vinyl copy of A Roy Jones Family Christmas (you know, the record that keeps on skipping all year 'round).

So, while the rest of the world frets about India and Pakistan, with fretting over Lewis and Tyson to begin shortly after the bout has commenced, boxing fans can start fretting early. If properly prepared, boxing fans can and will survive this forthcoming 12-round nuclear winter -- here you thought that only mosquitoes, sea monkeys and guys like Bob Arum could pull that off, silly you.

In wait of this quavering mess, you'll just need to collect a few things. The necessities, if you will. I call it the Lewis/Tyson Disaster Survival Kit.

Earmuffs are a fine place to start. Tyson is fighting, after all, so you'll want to protect those precious lobes of yours. Not because he'll bite them (come on, from inside the television?) but because the announcers, by mandate, will talk incessantly of the time he chewed on the head of Evander Holyfield. You've watched a Tyson fight. You know how it goes.

Worst thing is, the tired "bite fight" blather figures to be even worse than ever this Saturday night. That's because Tyson, per his press conference brawl with Lewis, has now bitten two of the top three heavyweights of his era. Actually, if he's half the animal they say he is, he's probably tried gnawing his own wrists at some point -- likely while handcuffed -- meaning he's bitten all three. It's really kind of disturbing when you think about it, so, uh, don't think about it.

On the subject of biting, if you've got children and they plan on watching, you'll want to add one of those kiddy leashes as the second item in your disaster survival kit. Got to keep a close eye on those kids, you hear? Whereas some athletes like children, the baddest man on the planet likes to eat them. He's very much like the witch from Hansel and Gretel in this regard.

Why Tyson's not content with eating the ears off grown men, I'll never know. I'd imagine there's some sort of nuance -- such as the difference between wines or types of macaronis -- but I'm no connoisseur on the subject and thankfully so.

The youth of the nation might also want to throw a groin cup into the disaster survival kit. Tyson's apparently also interested in stomping on children's testicles. Honestly, I don't know what the Hell that means, I'm just repeating what he said. Would someone please give that poor soul a chew toy, already?

Actually, upon further consideration, maybe the kiddy leash and groin cup can be substituted with a v-chip. I'm not sure kids should be watching this dude at all. I mean, next to some Tyson fights, shows like South Park look an awful lot like The Land Before Time.

Anyway, next you should stock your disaster survival kit with a flashlight and metal detector. At a record price tag of $55, you'll want to head to the nearest supermarket and scour the lot for loose change if this bout goes less than, say, nine rounds.

In case of emergency, you'll also need a year's supply of your favorite beer. A family size George Foreman Grilling Machine couldn't hurt, either. Sorry, Showtime subscribers, but the Bobby Czyz Perfect Pancake Maker has yet to hit store shelves.

Lastly, you'll need the proper CPR equipment. In a bout where the winner could well be the man who leaves on a stretcher, you, too, might need medical attention. I suspect it will have something to do with the year's supply of your favorite beer. Maybe I shouldn't have suggested quite so much. Maybe.

By now, you've probably noticed that this column has all but ignored the fact that there will be two men in the ring this Saturday. The second one is Lennox Lewis, in case you forgot. Not that I did or anything, I just didn't have much to say about him. Fact is, Lewis is the champion and has carried himself as such. He's been the consummate gentleman in all this, and, to be quite honest, that's no fun.

I do believe the champ will retain his title, however. Lewis has never lost a bout that he's wanted to win and I'm fairly certain he wants to win this one.

Everyone's made much ado about Tyson's chances as a puncher. Indeed, his two-fisted fury would seem to neutralize any and every weapon in Lewis's artillery. Yet, as evidenced in his bout with David Tua, Lewis can keep a pint-sized power puncher at arm's length with relative ease. Can, I say. He can keep a pint-sized power puncher at arm's length with relative ease. Whether he will is another story altogether. I'd venture to guess if not for the fact that Lewis and Tyson are enormously prone to unpredictable matches. So, we'll have to sit back and find out.

That something out of the ordinary will happen seems a safe bet. I'd like to see something remarkable or memorable, but for the right reasons. It's a bit much to ask, I suppose, but it can't hurt to hope.

Really, though, I'd settle for another classic moment on behalf of the great philosopher, Mike Tyson, if not the once great boxer of the same name. Win, lose, draw or disqualify, in his post-fight comments we're probably guaranteed to get just that.

Maybe Tyson will win the title and disrespect it like the woman he says it is. Maybe Lewis will retain the belt and revere it like he most often has. Either way, the rest of the world will watch, the rest of the world will complain, then the rest of the world will crawl back to the hole from whence it came till the next so-called superfight.

And as the strife between India and Pakistan rolls on, boxing fans will watch the Lewis/Tyson replays and laugh at the rest of the world. After all, controlled violence is much more fun.