Bloody Good

All Mike Tyson needed, in this latest career rehabilitation, was a change of venue. Nothing was working in the United States, that's for sure. Judges, commissions, even washed-up boxers like Evander Holyfield kept going against him. Fighting in the U.S. was a public relations disaster, among other things. He needed to go someplace where he was still viewed as a larger-than-life figure, and where it was still possible to earn $10 million for short work. He needed to go to England.

One other thing: He needed to fight somebody exactly like Julius Francis.

Those requirements met, Tyson's repackaging as gentleman fighter is off to a sensational start. True, protests from women's groups upset over what they saw as glorification of a rapist briefly threatened to keep Tyson, as a convicted felon, from entering the country. But the government, citing millions of pounds committed in ticket sales and the anticipated attendant revenue, stamped his passport, and the boxer went on to wow a highly uncritical British population, sweeping through London and then Manchester, leaving mobs of adoring fans in his wake. His behavior—there were old ladies he found time to cuddle, babies to kiss—was such that all of England had to wonder what the fuss was about. Then there was his visit to Brixton, a tough section of South London, where he used a bullhorn to calm the overexcited crowd. The man was practically a missionary.

Then came fight night in Manchester, when his recent missteps in the ring—in his previous outing, on Oct. 23 in Las Vegas, he had decked Orlin Norris with a left hook after the bell, earning a no-contest ruling and virtual exile from the Nevada boxing commission—were swept aside by a powerful performance. In less than two rounds, using throbbing punches to the body and righteous uppercuts to the chin, Tyson dropped the outgunned Francis five times before the bout was stopped.

Even Tyson's critics were forced to admit that his night's work was encouraging. There is no getting around the fact that Francis, 21-8 and the British champion, had no business in the ring with the former heavyweight champion, even if, at 244�, he outweighed Tyson by 20 pounds. Yet the power that Tyson displayed, which had the sellout crowd of 21,000 whistling in awe, was real. "Those short punches to the body," said Francis, "all those punches hurt me."

It has been a long time since one of Tyson's crowds whistled in awe. In the States, events conspired against a fully realized performance. Tyson undermined his promise with one outrageous gaffe after another until it came time to shoo him out of the country for repositioning as a charismatic and still dangerous heavyweight.

His popularity in Europe may have as much to do with his spending as his behavior, however admirable the latter might be. While in London for publicity-friendly workouts, he conducted his camp as if it were a buying trip. A rare McLaren F1 was considered. A gem-encrusted watch was purchased for roughly $800,000, which even Britons thought high for a timepiece that was not called Big Ben.

Still, Tyson would have been welcomed anyway. His face, a little older now at 33 and topped with mini-dreadlocks (a Lennox Lewis starter kit), was mostly a smiling one. He did not have to dodge the skepticism he lives with back home or explain anything beyond his intention to maul Francis. He seemed truly happy (most of the time) to be there.

The success of the event is likely to keep Tyson, now 47-3, with that one no-contest, on a kind of world tour, visiting the great capitals of Europe. His next assignment, which was set for March 25 at the New Jersey Meadowlands, may take place in Paris instead. This has less to do with the economics of boxing—which favors big bouts in Las Vegas—than with Tyson's newfound comfort abroad. Imagine: At his Manchester arrival hundreds thronged outside his hotel and were not dispersed until Tyson leaned out of an upper-floor window, somewhat like the Pope, and addressed them.

Would this happen in Las Vegas? Not for a while, anyway. Tyson is still trying to atone for his last debacle there. At what point he'll be encouraged to return (the "ban" handed down by the commission after the Norris bout is highly unofficial) and enjoy the rich site fees the casinos put up is undetermined. But reports of great sums of money having been lavished upon Tyson's latest venue—a Manchester civic leader said the fight would mean $32 million to his city, not counting the souvenir trinkets Tyson might have bought—may play a role in Vegas's decision.