03.02.04 – By Ron “Champ” Miller: Hello fight fans! Let’s go back… way back… for this “oldie but goodie.” Fourteen years ago, a strange thing happened to Mike Tyson on his way to stardom. Fate? Destiny? No. A long shot underdog beat the odds and Tyson has never been the same, since.
Some things just stick with you. For me it’s Dec 7th 1941. 1865. OJ. The World Wars. Korea, Vietnam, Gulf War. My High School and College graduations. March Madness. Super Sunday. The World Series. NBA playoffs. The Olympics. Traveling abroad. The day Gerald McClellan “died” and Roy Jones got ripped off at the Olympics. “Down goes Frazier, Down goes Frazier, Down goes Frazier!!!”
“Do you believe in miracles??? YES!!!” The 1972 Gold Medal game between the USA and Soviet Union(thanks Bill Walton). The first and many days of bootcamp. Breaking up with my many girlfriends. My first game of catch with my Dad. The good days, the bad ones. 1980 (my Phillies and Eagles going for a championship). Holidays. Birthdays, wedding anniversary, a death of a loved one.
But, what about the death of a career, legend, and myth, all in one day?
Recently, on HBO’s new fight series “Legendary Nights” (a must watch for any boxing fan) a fight was highlighted. “A shocking fight in Japan.” The biggest upset in boxing history, arguably in the history of sports. And I could have been there, LIVE.
February 11th, 1990 was such a day.
I was in Japan on that day, as a dependent of my father, who was stationed at Camp Zama. The boxing match — Mike Tyson vs. James “Buster” Douglas at the Tokyo Dome.
The funny thing was, I could have gone to this fight. Our MWR/USO had a bus going down there, plus FREE tickets.
But, no, this was going to be a one round blowout right? The only Vegas hotel that had odds on it was the Hilton at 42-1. It was supposed to be that much of a mismatch.
However, no one told Douglas that.
Douglas was a journeyman, with wins over Greg Page, Tex Cobb, Oliver McCall, Trevor Berbick and Mike Williams. He had lost to Jesse Ferguson, and was on his way to winning vs. Tucker, before being stopped an IBF title bid. He had just lost his mother. He had nothing to lose, everything to gain. So February 11th was just another day for everyone. Or so we thought.
Believe it or not, I loved Tyson back then. I was a “Tysonite,” to say the least. The black trunks, no socks, the white towel. He beat people in the ring before getting in the ring. Psychologically, his opponent was beaten before the first bell. Tyson was a menace. The triple combinations, hard right, the knockouts. The head movement, bobbing and weaving. The lefts, rights, bodywork. Amazing to say the least.
I enjoyed the Tyson truck commercials with Toyota trucks. The Tyson drink commercials. These played in Japan. Tyson was a marketing tool, before his troubles began, when I think he got rid of everyone and associated himself with Don King. Like Teddy Atlas says “Tyson was a meteor”. Bright, but over way too quickly.
On this night Buster Douglas stood up to the bully and beat him.
Douglas was magical, at least for this night. I think he could have given anyone a good fight. The way he boxed Tyson that night, was amazing. Inspired by his mother he fought the fight of his life. Sure the long count in the eighth round was disturbing (I counted to 15), but Douglas got up, shook it off and went on to history. The image of Tyson crawling on the floor, looking for his mouthpiece was ironic. I think he was looking for his life, his career.
The phone rang. It was my boy, calling me to say Tyson had lost. I said “no, no way!” But it was true. The unthinkable had happened. Tyson had lost, been stopped! His granite chin was dented. He was a beaten man. His corner was pathetic. Using a condom for enswell? They, too, thought this would be a cakewalk. Aaron Snowell’s corner work was questionable to say the least. Recently, he looked like a fool in Tim Austin’s corner as he yelled at Rafael Marquez. The next round Austin was toast.
There would be no rematch. Tyson is still fighting, why I don’t know, other than for money, which he has said in the past. Douglas didn’t fight for six years after getting embarrassed by Evander Holyfield (he was eating at all the fast food joints, and layed down, as his body jiggled like Jell-O). His comeback was short-lived. He is trying for an entertainment career now. “The Buster Douglas” of the 2000s was Haseem Rahman after losing to Lennox Lewis.
I often watch this tape. I close my eyes and think about how great he really was. Or was he? He fought a lot of bums, tomato cans, woulda beens, coulda beens and never was’s. Over the hills, too green. He won fights before hand. By intimidation and fear. I think to myself, how in the world a fighter who everyone thought was the greatest ever lost to a bum, a tomato can. I hear the excuses. He wasn’t prepared, not enough training, too much training. Personal and personnel problems. Bull. Tyson was in his prime. I do believe Douglas’ mom had a lot to do with this, but Douglas stood up to Tyson. The fight was over. He jabbed and doubled up with wicked combos. Held when he had to. A great fight plan.
People have accused me of hating Tyson. I don’t. How can you hate someone when you don’t even know him. I don’t hate anyone. I may dislike a few people, but that’s about it. I hate what could have been with Mike. He could have been the greatest, had he just stuck with his team, and not involved himself with Don King. (Firing Atlas was the worst mistake, as Tyson needed discipline, not babying, which Cus gave him. I didn’t agree with the “gun incident”, but…)
He could have minded his own business, not met up with Robins Givens and Ruth Roper. If he could have kept his “nose clean.” The plan was gym-home-fight-gym-home-fight. This all changed when Cus D’Amato, then Jimmy Jacobs died.
Woulda, shoulda, coulda. That’s the story of life, I guess. Zigging instead of zagging, taking the wrong road, perhaps the one with the least resistance. That’s what makes us humans, I guess.
I met Tyson at the Tszyu-Zab Judah fight. I was backstage, and approached him while he was walking back to the locker room following the stoppage. He was with his entourage. He was short, stout like a pitbull. I extended my hand, and with a scowl, he shook it.
I had touched history in a sense. The only question that bothers me is what could have been. That’s all. I don’t wish bad luck on my worst enemy, much less Mike Tyson. But he is going down that road. I still think it will end badly for Mike. Like his hero, Sonny Liston. We, as fans, are selfish.
We like to see two guys beat the hell out of each other (Ward-Gatti), but will we be there when they are sucking their soup out of a straw? Of course not.
Reminds me of Jerry and Mike Quarry, who were too brave for their own good. Who had “too good of a chin.” The same Holyfield who is headed down that road. Ali. Greg Page. Gerald McClellan. Makes me hate boxing when I think of these men. Some were avoidable.
That’s it fight fans!!!! Keep your hands up and keep punching for the stars!!!!
I’ve been off for a while, so in my next column, I will play catchup with what has been going on since December.