Why Holyfield is a difficult match-up for Tyson.

[mrbig1]

Chin speed heart and will to win is too much for Tyson. I do feel if Tyson had worked the body more if would have had a shot to win. Tyson was never one to follow a game plan.

[The D3vil]

I'm American, too......and you're still naive as *********** if you think any fighter from that era wasn't on the juice. Or any athlete in any professional sport, for that matter. And you're naive as *********** if you think "innocent until proven guilty" is actually how things work in this dystopian shithole. Or maybe you're just ***********ing ****** as is all too common around here. Btw, you being American and $6 will get you a latte at Starbucks. Consider yourself dismissed, Yankee Doodle Dickhead

Unless you have proof, then you aint got shxt but a dumbxss attitude.

I got proof about Holyfield.

You aint got proof of nobody else, so you aint sayin' shxt to me, homie.

[QueensburyRules]

Just because YOU don't think he needed it, doesn't mean he didn't. Athletes will do anything to get an edge, even if it's just psychological. Look at the difference between Tyson pre and post-prison: It's obvious he bulked up. In any case, PEDs aren't just about bulking up: Look at B-Hop and some others with freakishly long careers. PEDs are used to revover from injury faster. Steroids, HGH, blood doping, and God only knows what else. Thinking PEDs are just about buffing out is also ***********ing naive.

- - U thinking U the ALL TIME POOHBAH ON PED use...The Comedy Hour that keeps on giving...

[StarshipTrooper]

Unless you have proof, then you aint got shxt but a dumbxss attitude.

I got proof about Holyfield.

You aint got proof of nobody else, so you aint sayin' shxt to me, homie.

Feel free to go choke on a bag of dicks. They were all doing it until proven otherwise; and if you don't like it, the last train to Fuckoffville is leaving in 10 minutes: Don't be late, Sandy Asshole ,,!,,

[The D3vil]

Feel free to go choke on a bag of dicks. They were all doing it until proven otherwise; and if you don't like it, the last train to ***********offville is leaving in 10 minutes: Don't be late, Sandy Asshole ,,!,,

Proof or GTFO, champ

[StarshipTrooper]

Proof or GTFO, champ

Guilty until proven otherwise, now fuck off Bitch-Boi. Ignored.

[elfag]

It's incredible how blind to what they are seeing Mike Tyson fans are. I watched the fight again a few months ago, and Douglas absolutely bossed it. Tyson had zero case for any round, except the one with the knockdown. Losing 8 out of 9 rounds to Douglas, in his absolute peak, shows that he was far from a master boxer, in fact, he' s very one-dimensional. A fantastic on-top bully against limited opposition, but even Douglas, a 3rd-tier HW was far too much for him.

Douglas is the type of guy that any top guy, even on their worst night, finds a way to win. All Tyson found was a way lose round after round, have no answers at all as far as adapting, and getting knocked out.

And then, as Holyfield showed, you stand up to the bully, you show the bully no fear, then the bully is shown for what he really is. You enter the ring afraid of Tyson (Spinks, prime example. never seen anyone look so scared in a ring before), he beats you up, you enter you ring not afraid, and with any kind of ability, he's very beatable. Cash in

people are so dumb calling tyson a "bully"

he isnt a "bully" for clearing out the heavyweight division, that is his job and those fighters he knocked out were his peers in the sport.

[Tatabanya]

For those who still use the Buster Douglas fight as a technical measuring stick in regard to Tyson, here's an enlightening (perhaps) excerpt from Iron Mike's book, Undisputed Truth. Stuff the experts already know, narrated in fine detail by the protagonist.

"On January 8, 1990, I got aboard a plane to fly to Tokyo. Kicking and screaming. I didn’t want to fight; all I was interested in then was partying and fùcking women. By the time we left, I had put on thirty pounds. King was so worried about my weight that he offered me a bonus if I would make my usual weight when we fought in a month.

I didn’t consider Buster Douglas much of a challenge. I didn’t even bother watching any of his fights on video. I had easily beaten everybody who had knocked him out. I saw him fight for the ESPN championship when I was on the undercard and he got beat by Jesse Ferguson, who I had knocked out in my first fight on ABC. I felt like my heroes Mickey Walker and Harry Greb. I read that Greb was so arrogant he’d tell his opponents that he hadn’t trained because “you are not worth me sweating for.” So I followed his lead. I didn’t train at all for the fight.

Anthony Pitts was there with me and he would get up early in the morning and run with my sparring partner Greg Page. But I didn’t feel like it. Anthony would tell me that he’d see Buster out there, digging in with his army boots on, snotsicles hanging off his nose, getting in his run. I couldn’t eat since I was overweight and I wanted to lose the weight and win the bonus from Don, so I drank the soup that was supposed to burn off fat. And then I had the cleaning ladies for the main course. It was ironic, because you go to Japan and the women seem so shy and introverted, but fortunately I ran into some unconventional Japanese ladies. People would ask me if I learned any sexual tips from the Japanese women, but I didn’t have time to learn. This was no sex education course; this was a guy trying to get his rocks off. I didn’t even have to pay the maids to screw them. But I did tip them heavily because I had a lot of that Monopoly-looking money they had over there. They must have been appreciative because they’d come back and sometimes bring friends. “My friend would like to meet you, Mr. Tyson, sir. She would like to accompany us, sir.”

Besides having sex with the maids, I was seeing this young Japanese girl who I had had sex with the last time I was in Japan for the Tony Tubbs fight. Robin would go out shopping and I would go upstairs in the stairwell with her. I had her do the same thing this time. There were too many people on my floor and I didn’t want Don or Rory or John or Anthony to know my business. They might have scared her; she was very shy around people. In the two years since I had seen her, she had matured a great deal. So that was my training for Douglas. Every once in a while, I did show up to work out and spar. I was sparring with Greg Page ten days before the fight and I walked right into a right hook and went down. “What the fùck are you doing?” Greg asked me later."

[The D3vil]

For those who still use the Buster Douglas fight as a technical measuring stick in regard to Tyson, here's an enlightening (perhaps) excerpt from Iron Mike's book, Undisputed Truth. Stuff the experts already know, narrated in fine detail by the protagonist.

"On January 8, 1990, I got aboard a plane to fly to Tokyo. Kicking and screaming. I didn’t want to fight; all I was interested in then was partying and fùcking women. By the time we left, I had put on thirty pounds. King was so worried about my weight that he offered me a bonus if I would make my usual weight when we fought in a month.

I didn’t consider Buster Douglas much of a challenge. I didn’t even bother watching any of his fights on video. I had easily beaten everybody who had knocked him out. I saw him fight for the ESPN championship when I was on the undercard and he got beat by Jesse Ferguson, who I had knocked out in my first fight on ABC. I felt like my heroes Mickey Walker and Harry Greb. I read that Greb was so arrogant he’d tell his opponents that he hadn’t trained because “you are not worth me sweating for.” So I followed his lead. I didn’t train at all for the fight.

Anthony Pitts was there with me and he would get up early in the morning and run with my sparring partner Greg Page. But I didn’t feel like it. Anthony would tell me that he’d see Buster out there, digging in with his army boots on, snotsicles hanging off his nose, getting in his run. I couldn’t eat since I was overweight and I wanted to lose the weight and win the bonus from Don, so I drank the soup that was supposed to burn off fat. And then I had the cleaning ladies for the main course. It was ironic, because you go to Japan and the women seem so shy and introverted, but fortunately I ran into some unconventional Japanese ladies. People would ask me if I learned any sexual tips from the Japanese women, but I didn’t have time to learn. This was no sex education course; this was a guy trying to get his rocks off. I didn’t even have to pay the maids to screw them. But I did tip them heavily because I had a lot of that Monopoly-looking money they had over there. They must have been appreciative because they’d come back and sometimes bring friends. “My friend would like to meet you, Mr. Tyson, sir. She would like to accompany us, sir.”

Besides having sex with the maids, I was seeing this young Japanese girl who I had had sex with the last time I was in Japan for the Tony Tubbs fight. Robin would go out shopping and I would go upstairs in the stairwell with her. I had her do the same thing this time. There were too many people on my floor and I didn’t want Don or Rory or John or Anthony to know my business. They might have scared her; she was very shy around people. In the two years since I had seen her, she had matured a great deal. So that was my training for Douglas. Every once in a while, I did show up to work out and spar. I was sparring with Greg Page ten days before the fight and I walked right into a right hook and went down. “What the fùck are you doing?” Greg asked me later."

They don't hear you though;.

They could also read Bobby Brown's book where he talks about how him and Mike stayed up all night the night before ****ing these chicks.

[Tatabanya]

They don't hear you though;.

They could also read Bobby Brown's book where he talks about how him and Mike stayed up all night the night before ****ing these chicks.

Yeah, when Tyson is involved there's no way to make people reason via the mere stating of facts. The "tabloid mentality", in conjunction with superficial analysis, always prevails.