Time to let Tyson back in the ring

His despicable history notwithstanding, Michael Gerard Tyson should be allowed to box again. The fight game is populated by enough unsavoury characters that Tyson hardly stands alone. He may have serially committed more reprehensible acts than most, but his punishment has also been more severe.

That said, any parent who ever tried to bring his six-year-old along to the theatre could appreciate the circumstances in which Anthony Fusco, Esq, found himself on Wednesday afternoon. One can only imagine Attorney Fusco in the days beforehand as he meticulously instructed his client, Tyson, on the vagaries of the experience he was about to undertake: it would be long, occasionally exhilarating, sometimes frustrating, and mostly boring, but it was essential that he remain on his best behaviour, on the odd chance he might be invited back before he turned seven.

One imagines as well that today Fusco wishes he had taken the added precaution of bringing along to Trenton the parent's emergency staple for lapsed attention spans, to wit: a colouring book and a small box of crayons. For, after comporting himself admirably for the first three hours of a three-and-a-half-hour hearing before the New Jersey Athletic Control Board, Tyson interrupted Fusco's summation with a mini-tantrum which may have severely damaged his chances of boxing again before the year is out.

Given Tyson's rap sheet, Wednesday's boardroom nutter was admittedly mild, but coming on an occasion in which he had just testified that he had learned to control his emotions, it could hardly have helped his cause.

"If it had lasted another 15 minutes," one boardroom witness told me, "Tyson might have tried to bite his own lawyer's ears."

Exactly how the former heavyweight champion came to be petitioning a New Jersey commission for the reinstatement of a boxing licence revoked in Nevada is curious but instructive.

On July 9th, 1997, less than two weeks after Tyson had practised cannibalism on Evander Holyfield in their Las Vegas heavyweight title fight, the Nevada State Athletic Commission banned him from the ring "indefinitely", but for a period of no less than one year.

Amid rumours that he was beset by tax problems and in dire financial straits, Tyson spent the intervening year attempting to demonstrate his rehabilitation. He wrecked only one motorcycle, and earned his pin money - worth $4 million - by performing in a wrestling extravaganza, in which he prudently aligned himself on the side of the good guys.

After discovering documents which indicated that his fast friend and promoter, Don King, with the probable connivance of co-managers John Horne and Rory Holloway, had been milking him dry, he took steps to sever his relationship with all three. While the lawsuits involved have yet to come to trial, this did, in effect, remove some of the more loathsome baggage with which Tyson travelled, making him even more attractive to prospective managers and promoters.

It is somewhat ironic that Tyson, who had once defended his allegiance to King by sardonically dismissing his promoter's competitors as "Jews in suits", would settle upon New Yorker Shelly Finkel as the "adviser" who would guide his future fortunes. But that's what happened, and last month Finkel hinted that Tyson would be applying for the reinstatement of his Nevada licence and hoped to box by October.

When privately polled, the five members of the Nevada commission expressed reservations about granting Tyson's petition. Some felt that the punishment had not yet been severe enough, while others doubted the sincerity of his contrition.

In what will be regarded as a stroke of genius if it works, Finkel devised Plan B, an attempt to circumvent the inhospitable climate by appealing to a different jurisdiction. He even took the precaution of establishing New Jersey residence for Tyson by having him purchase a condominium in West Paterson.

Tyson explained the move by saying he wanted "to get a fresh start", while Finkel was even more forthright. "I like the odds better," he admitted.

While the Nevada commissioners howled in protest, and New York attorney general Dennis Vacco termed it "a travesty of justice", there can be little doubt that Finkel had laid enough groundwork in preliminary discussions with New Jersey commissioner Larry Hazzard that he expected a positive outcome in l'affaire Tyson, and at least one New York newspaper described it as "a done deal".

One member of the three-man panel selected to hear Tyson's application, Stephen Katz, was on vacation, but the two commissioners present, Gerard Gormley and Gary Shaw, were deemed sufficient to constitute a quorum. They listened to an array of character witnesses - boxers Chuck Wepner and Bobby Czyz, Tyson's physician-wife Monica, and the obligatory behavioural psychologist - testify on Tyson's behalf.

Camille Ewald, sister-in-law of his late mentor Cus D'Amato, testified by videotape about Tyson's troubled youth, and Finkel argued that the year away from boxing had cost Tyson an estimated $25 million in earnings.

Although he expressed regret for his actions of last June, Tyson probably didn't help his cause when he attempted to blame Holyfield for provoking him with repeated head-butts.

"It was starting to sound like this was a hearing for Holyfield to get his licence back," said our man on the scene.

But it was in the midst of Fusco's summation that Tyson truly lost it. As the attorney was in the midst of asking earnestly, "How many times does a man have to say he's sorry?", Tyson leapt to his feet and shouted, "Yeah! How many times?", sounding for all the world like Steve (Crocodile) Fitch, the cheerleading hanger-on only recently banished from his corner.

"I did my year!" Tyson defiantly reminded the board.

The New Jersey Athletic Control Board will convene in executive session this Thursday to consider last Wednesday's testimony, and a final decision on Tyson's application could come then, but no later than the middle of the month.

We would only remind Messrs Gormley, Shaw, and, presumably, Katz, it isn't as if Tyson is applying for a job as a camp counsellor or a parish priest. If he is allowed to fight again, the only one who will be put at immediate risk is his next opponent, a man who will sign a contract accepting that fact and who will be well compensated for the undertaking.

Moreover, it should be pointed out, Tyson has lost two major fights in a row, and unless he goes back to fighting the Peter McNeeleys of the world, his next big payday could well be his last.