Doing a different kind of time
Tyson rebuilding his image, preparing for Botha fight
Posted: Monday December 28, 1998 08:40 PM
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Tyson: "People think I'm either a superstar or a freak. I don't blame them. I can relate to that." AP |
PHOENIX (AP) -- The topic was Mike Tyson and the radio talk show
host wasn't concealing his distaste for the ex-heavyweight champ's
move to Arizona.
"He's a convicted rapist who has shown no repentance," the
host said. "Ten thousand people have moved to Phoenix since Mike
Tyson did and 99 percent of them have been better citizens than he
has."
The callers, though, weren't so sure.
The Mike Tyson they saw wasn't the felon who went berserk in the
ring and bit Evander Holyfield's ears. Or the Mike Tyson who
pleaded no contest to attacking two men following a fender-bender
involving his wife in Maryland.
They saw a Mike Tyson who a few days earlier had handed out
turkeys to poor families. They saw a Mike Tyson who visited
teen-age inmates and paid for the funeral of a 2-year-old girl shot
to death during a burglary.
More importantly, they saw Mike Tyson succeeding in a somewhat
desperate, last-ditch attempt to rehabilitate his image.
"You may not like him but he's doing things other people
won't," one caller said. "Besides, he's a celebrity. And we need
more celebrities."
Celebrity is not a word heard often near the Madison Square
Garden Gym, which sits on a corner in a crumbling area west of
downtown Phoenix. Smoke from a portable taco stand out front hangs
over the parking lot during lunch hour.
On a sunny afternoon last week, a few dozen people, many with
young children, waited outside with pens and paper in hand. Word
had spread that Tyson trained here, and they waited patiently to
get an autograph, perhaps even a picture.
This was not a gathering of those who chortled when Tyson had to
register as a sex offender recently after renting a house in posh
Scottsdale to train for his January 16 comeback fight against Francois
Botha. This was not a crowd to criticize Tyson's charitable efforts
as publicity moves aimed at keeping him from going back to prison.
The public may be split in two camps, but this was the faithful.
And they were eager to get a glimpse of the fearsome former
champion.
"People think I'm either a superstar or a freak," Tyson said
later. "I don't blame them. I can relate to that."
A glimpse of Tyson would have to suffice, at least for the time
being, as four burly security men arrived in a van and quickly
cleared the crowd back behind a chain-link fence. A few minutes
later, a shiny new purple Rolls Royce pulled up, and Tyson waved to
the gathering from the passenger seat.
Those with enough patience to wait got their chance with Tyson,
who invited them in later for pictures and autographs. But first
there was work to be done.
After 19 months out of the ring for biting Holyfield, Tyson was
once again discovering his skills in the gym. This was a day for
sparring and Tyson was eager to lace on the gloves, despite his
general distaste for long training camps.
"I love fighting but training is such a pain," Tyson said.
"It's so monotonous. You've got a grown man telling another grown
man what to do. It's just not natural."
If the long layoff caused Tyson's skills to slip, it didn't show
as he and two different sparring partners went after each other for
five rounds.
Listening intently to new trainer Tommy Brooks -- who was in
Holyfield's corner for Tyson's two losses to the heavyweight
champion -- Tyson worked on showing different angles and moving his
head to avoid being hit.
It soon became apparent that the quickness was still there, even
at age 32. And the punches thudded relentlessly against the heads
of his sparring partners, even through the bigger gloves and
headgear of a training session.
The week before, Tyson had knocked out one sparring partner. On
this day, he made a nifty move to the left reminiscent of his best
days, then dug a left hook into the ribs of Darren Hayden, who
doubled over in pain and had to stop fighting to regain his
composure.
"Did you see me in there?" a clearly enthused Tyson later
asked a friend. "Did you see what I was doing?"
Brooks was equally happy with the short but productive session.
"See what I mean?" he asked a watching reporter who had
questioned what Tyson had left after two straight losses to
Holyfield. "See what I mean?"
Earlier, Brooks had talked about getting Tyson back to doing the
things that made him the most feared heavyweight of his time.
"At first I was wondering if I would have enough time," Brooks
said. "Now I know I do."
The sparring session was as brief as it was intense. With Hayden
hurting, a scheduled six rounds became five, and Tyson showered and
dressed quickly.
The security men let the fans come inside and Tyson signed
autographs, posed for pictures and put kids on his lap. Two older
women crowded close and he pulled both in by the shoulders for a
group picture as they squealed in delight.
The contrast of being beloved by some and hated by others isn't
lost on Tyson. He understands better than most that he's a
polarizing figure whose ring conquests have won him millions of
fans and whose exploits outside the ring have alienated him to
millions of others.
Tyson laughed later as he told a story that illustrates his
sometimes bizarre appeal. It took place in September at
Massachusetts General Hospital as he was undergoing psychiatric
tests ordered by Nevada boxing officials before he could return to
the ring.
"There was a nurse in her white nursing outfit that came in and
she says she wants her picture taken with me," Tyson said. "I
said, 'Ma'am, don't you realize I'm here because people think I'm
crazy and I'm a convicted rapist? She said, 'I don't care, I just
want my picture taken with you.' So I grabbed her real tight and
held her, and she got her picture."
There was no posing for pictures an hour later as Tyson motored
up in his Rolls Royce to a detention camp for teen-age offenders
set up behind barbed wire in tents in the desert.
Some local talk shows had criticized the visit as an
image-building stunt, and, indeed, TV cameras were on hand to
record the event. The media had been invited by the sheriff,
though, not Tyson, and the boxer even tried to shoo them out of a
tent while he spoke to about a dozen prisoners sitting at metal
picnic tables.
"All the people who complain about me being here should come
and talk to these kids," Tyson said. "I don't see them here.
They're scared to even look at these kids. They're afraid they'll
rob them."
For 20 minutes, Tyson talked nonstop to the teens about self
respect, gangs, growing up and being in prison, like he was for
three years while serving his sentence for rape in Indiana. He
talked with the knowledge that he could go back again, for his
assault plea in Maryland or a parole violation in Indiana.
"In a real prison they kill you because they don't like the way
you walk," Tyson told the teens. "I just left prison a little
while ago and you don't want to go there."
The talk is filled with some unguarded and revealing moments.
"To this day I can't believe I'm Mike Tyson," he said. "People shake my
hands and I think they're crazy. I've been a
millionaire since I was 18, but I'm still dealing with becoming a
man. I haven't started becoming a man until recently."
Copyright 2003 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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