By Terence Dooley

In his autobiography, Bill Clinton talks about the idea of a person living parallel lives.  Bill applies it to himself, in the absence of an available intern, by showing how he could, on the one hand, steer his country through a relatively prosperous time in terms of international relations (the USA was hated then, it is now merely derided) whilst also, with other hand, putting his political career into the mouth of danger by doing very bad (or good) things with Monica Lewinsky in the oval office.

It is a strange yet oddly feasible idea.  In fact we all lead a multitude of lives; at home, at work and at play - are we the same person throughout all of these states?

It is also an idea that can be applied to the retrospective analysis of two boxers whose ring careers lead to a defining confrontation.  We can even meander back and forth over the timeline of their careers in order to see if our amblings throw up anything interesting.

The careers of Lennox Lewis and Mike Tyson are a case in point.  Flip sides of the same coin, total opposites whose sole career meeting lead to a conclusion that was written in stone as soon as their personalities – both in the ring and outside the ring – were formed.   A conclusion perhaps set when they sparred as youths.

In the case of Lennox Lewis and Mike Tyson this type of approach uncovers a lot of insights about the two fighters, and yet the most pressing one is the fact that in Lewis we, the UK, had a fighter with the kernel of mental strength Tyson never possessed. 

This inner toughness is ironical when one considers that Lewis, in some, mostly US, quarters (join me in deriding them), is still the cliché definition of a heartless and chinny heavyweight.  We consider Lewis fragile because he copped two huge right hands and was taken out.  We consider Tyson tough because he copped a few masochistic beatings before being knocked-out.

One thing needs to be set straight here.  The beatings Tyson took showed he had some bravery yet the fact he never turned these situations into wins, nor did he avenge his losses, shows us that he had no real fighting heart. 

Twice we saw Lewis bounced to the canvas and twice we saw him bounce back to great heights. 

If we start our analysis of the timeline from the Buster Douglas (1990) fight we can see that in this fight Tyson was ruthlessly exposed as a bully who could not turn the fight once it turned against him.  Tyson took his lumps yet so, too, does a criminal caught in the act, Tyson was a criminal, for too long he impersonated an all-time great fighter and too many allowed him to get away with it before Douglas caught him in the act, and punished him for it.

Another defining moment came prior to this, although it also came prior to Lewis turning pro (Lewis turned over on 27-6-1989), as Tyson hammered a cowed light-heavyweight with dodgy knees and a lack of bulk in Michael Spinks (this fight took place on 27-6-1988, a year before Lewis turned over and in doing so put a defeat in prospect onto Tyson’s destined timeline). 

The beating of Michael Spinks, in 89-seconds, was a crucial moment in Tyson’s career, that moment is now hermeneutically sealed as an example of the greatest fighting machine of all time at work.  Before Lewis even laced-up his professional gloves Tyson was set in stone as a masterwork of rage who burned as hotly, and as intensely, as a Bible on fire.

Unpalatable as it may seem for Tyson fans the Spinks fight is an epidural, a tranquilliser for the fact your guy was exposed, as a front-running fighter who crashed every time he came up against skills backed by will.  You watch Tyson destroy Spinks and lapse back into your dogmatic slumbers.

James ‘Bonecrusher’ Smith and Tony Tucker (both 1987) tied Tyson in knots whilst also exposing his inability to work his way out of a clinch.  They showed that a big, strong fighter with an accurate – accurate, not merely fast – jab could mess Mike up, drop right hands in, tie him up, and ultimately make him look an ordinary Joe.

Those 89 seconds of so-called fistic perfection versus Spinks is now a Never-Never land where Tyson the Man Child can exist as the perfect fighting machine for the rest of boxing’s timeline. 

Mike Tyson was not a great fighter – Muhammad Ali was, Joe Frazier was, both these men also took on a light-heavyweight, a supreme one in Bob Foster, but guess what?  That light-heavyweight does not represent the pinnacle of their careers, their tough battles with one another, and others, does.  When did Tyson come through those tough battles?

To rebuild from the Douglas fight Tyson fought two brutal wars with Razor Ruddock (1991, pivotal year, 10-years on 2001 would be a pivotal year for Lewis and Tyson) – one a controversial 7th round stoppage win, the other a lacklustre point’s victory.  These wars made Donovan - a limited but dangerous puncher in the great scheme of things – feared yet what they really showed us was that beyond the smoke and mirrors of intimidated foes Tyson was a very human fighter.

Stylistically we are supposed to suppose that Tyson was perfect until he lost Kevin Rooney, the master trainer, where, then, are Rooney’s other Tyson’s?  So scratch that excuse.

In reality Tyson benefited from fast hands and scared foes.  When they were not afraid – as Tony Tucker and Bonecrusher Smith were not – they made Tyson a pot-shotter who could be pushed back, who could be hurt and who, ultimately, was content to clinch and maul his way to a win rather than take a fight by the balls if his opponent had a set of the same appendages dangling between his legs.

By the time Donovan faced Tyson Mike was the Emperor with no robes, his style stood there naked and, with no forward space to barge into, Tyson was reduced to standing and trading with a limited fighter.  The two fights with Ruddock featured 19 rounds of rather basic slugging; Tyson looked anything but special in those fights.

Still, the logic said that Ruddock must be a fearsome fighter so he entered a fight with Lennox Lewis benefiting from his exposure to the slipstream of Tyson’s hype.

That hype was blown aside as Lewis did what Tyson had not been able to do.  There was no sense of controversy as Lewis blew Ruddock away with a rifle-shot right hand blast in the 1st round, effectively ending their fight (1992). 

Ruddock got up to beat the count but two more knockdowns followed the rest between rounds and Lewis was proclaimed the, easy, winner. 

Ruddock blamed the cold and the fans, the real blame lay in the outstretched right hand of Lewis as he saluted the finest win of his career thus far.

Both Tyson and Lewis moved along different, you could say inverted, career trajectories as the 1990’s began; Tyson went to jail, luckily for his boxing career, it prolonged the façade. 

On the other hand Lewis enjoyed, or was sickened by, some of the moments he went through whilst Tyson was gone.  Good or bad they were the moments through which we could clearly see that Lennox would be the final, clinical, scalpel to the mystique of Mike Tyson.

First up came a fight with another common opponent in Frank Bruno (1993).  On a cold and miserable night in Wales, as most nights are in Wales, Lewis fought lethargically against Bruno only to uncork a lovely left hook which left Bruno in his customary big fight position - lolling on the ropes and taking a beating.

Lewis had fought poorly, possibly gone behind, and then won the fight.  It was a sign of mental strength and determination. 

Years later Tyson would be behind to Frans Botha (1999) and would similarly turn a fight, yet before doing so his fragility would cause him to attempt to break Botha’s arm.  Tyson then conspired to make the man from South Africa look like the second coming of Ray Leonard, both of them - although when Tyson did land Botha looked more like Sugar Ray Seales.

A defence of Lewis’ WBC title, against Phil ‘Inaction’ Jackson (1994), followed the Bruno win only for us to then see Lewis crumpled by a sweep of Oliver McCall’s (1994) right hand in the 2nd round of his very next fight. 
 
What Lewis did next, though, showed that he had the mental toughness to rebound from a devastating loss in a way Tyson never could.

Lewis came right back into a contention fight with the dangerous Lionel Butler (1995) as both men strove for a #1 WBC ranking (the WBC would soon embarrass itself by granting Mike Tyson a #1 ranking upon his release from prison, despite his patchy pre-jail form and his farcical post-jail opponents.) 

Lewis showed mental toughness in this fight, he did what he had to do in breaking Butler down and knocking him out. 

Furthermore, the path back for Lewis involved fights with bangers like Tommy Morrison (1995) and Ray Mercer (1996) whilst Tyson banged over a bunch of non-contenders when he returned in 1995.

At this point a fight between Tyson and Lewis seemed a natural yet Tyson felt that a fight with Evander Holyfield was unfinished business. 

In all reality Team Tyson felt Holyfield was finished enough as a fighter for them to do big business on a non-competitive fight.  Lewis was given step-aside money before eventually fighting for his previous title versus Oliver McCall (1997) – incidentally, in doing this he did what Tyson never could do, often never attempted to do, in beating a guy who had defeated him.

We know what happened next.  Holyfield (in 1996) stood-up to Tyson and the losing pattern of his career was revealed a second time. 

A tough boxer stood up to Tyson, showed greater heart, skills and wills, and did what is customary in these situations; Holyfield backed him up, put him down, cut him, and then knocked him out.  It is a definitive pattern.

Holyfield put Tyson down in the 6th round with a short left hook, Tyson got up and took his lumps yet this is not showing heart, getting up and winning is showing heart, Tyson showed that even bullies gamely accept a whipping when they mess with adults.

Tyson then tried to avenge a defeat for the first, and only, time when he stepped in with Holyfield a second time (1997). 

At this point Tyson fans might want to claim that Mike was beating up Holyfield before he shamed himself, his sport, and his ‘street’ image by biting chunks off Holyfield’s ears.  In reality Tyson was pushed back early, out-manned, cut (guess what would have happened next), and then resorted to gutter tactics. 
 
Once again Evander was a man whipping a boy, Tyson did the only thing he had the ability to do, he bit into Evander’s ear then spent years moaning about head-butts.  Mike had shown himself to have a bit of dog in a losing fight, the visceral violence of his foul allowed him to get away with it and claim he took it to the streets, his fans quickly forgave him.

Plugging away in the background was Lennox Lewis.  Lewis had grabbed his old WBC title with both arms in that strange rematch with Oliver McCall. 

McCall so often entered the ring fighting back tears and in his rematch with Lewis salt water was never far from his eyes.  McCall quit in the fight as George Benton, his cornerman, looked on, like a blues player watching his drummer lose the rhythm time after time. 

Lennox’s reputation was further soiled by a maul with Henry Akinwande (1997), who grabbed his opportunity, and Lewis, with both arms, this fight saw Lewis win by DQ, and become a partial laughing stock.

Lewis puffed out his chest and signed to fight Andrew Golota (1997), the fearsome Pole who had built his mystique on a pair of foul-filled DQ losses against a shot to pieces Riddick Bowe.  US audiences thought that this fight would reveal the negatives in the psyche of Lewis whereas in reality it showed his steely resolve as Lewis blasted Golota aside in 95 clinical seconds. 

Lewis had built himself back from his KO defeat without a promoter feeding him stiffs and without carte blanche ranking leniency from the WBC.  Lewis built himself all the way into a unification bout with Holyfield (1999), in which he was denied all the marbles by a controversial draw.  Rather than crumble Lewis came back for more, in the 2nd fight he refrained from biting Evander’s ears, opting to out-box Evander instead (1999). 

In the interim period Lewis had seemingly failed his audition for a Tyson fight when eking-out a point’s win over Tyson-like, or so they say, Ray Mercer (1996).  People forget that Lewis absorbed some meaty shots and blazed back, they only saw the fact that Mercer was a squat guy who could ping Lewis with shots himself.

So, Lewis bided his time before eventually taking on another Tyson-like fighter in David Tua (2000).  American critics prepared their carving knives to tuck into, they assumed, the fallen Lewis only for Lewis to turn a tough fight into a cakewalk. 

Throughout the first 6 rounds Lewis controlled Tua with his jab, preparing Tua in much the same way an artist prepares himself a tabla rasa.  Lewis waved his magic jab and turned Tua’s pre-fight script into an empty page.

As the fight progressed further Lewis mastered, then blurred, the elements of space, distance and time to such an extent Tua must have seen the fight slip-by in the blink of a missed left hook.  Lewis made space with his jab, found distance with movement and negatively, sensibly, killed time by clinching when need be.

It was the perfect fight, more so than the Spinks fight had been for Tyson, this was Lewis’ chin confronting a few demons and passing.  Lewis poured cold-water antiseptic onto the perception of Tuaman’s red-hot punching.

As would always be the case for Lewis in the USA it was not quite enough to please the fans, some fans booed loudly throughout then left the arena during the 11th round, they should have beaten, with a jab, on the way out.

Tua gambled in the final round allowing Lewis to produce one of the most aesthetic moments of his career.  Tua threw a right hand with all his might; Lewis turned him into the ropes then stepped-away to leave Tua floundering on the middle strands.  After 12 rounds of chasing Lewis with his left hook cocked Tua only succeeded in taking himself out.

Whilst Lewis was taking on these tough tests Tyson was following his post-jail blueprint, fighting no-hopers in the hope he would get another title caning and pay-off.  In 2000 Lewis took on Michael Grant (He Be Over-hyped), Frans Botha and Tua, whereas Tyson was fighting the likes of Julius Francis, Lou Savarese and Andrew Golota (who lost so badly his childhood stutter returned in the post-fight interview).

So far both men were following parallel career paths, different routes towards one goal, a bout between the two; then, in 2001 (a good year for spaced oddities), a series of events unfolded that left no doubt as to whether Lewis would beat Tyson in a proposed fight.