Tyson charade shamed boxing and sport

 

Sham? Farce? Manufactured mis-match? Or, as some sardonic wit wondered, will it be Joe Biden next?

Just a few of the reactions to the Jake Paul-Mike Tyson charade that attracted some 200 million Netflix subscribers to watch on what was a Saturday lunchtime in Malaysia.

A convenient time but an inconvenient truth.

As much of the planet is aware, an internet influencer beat one of the immortals of boxing, who happened to be 31 years older.

It was no contest – Paul won every round – but it should never have been within a zillion miles of being called a contest.

Tyson, once the undisputed champion of the world and one of the all-time greats of the sport, is 58 years old and had not been in a ring for 19 years.

He was the self-styled “baddest man on the planet” before Paul, 27, was born.

That it was sanctioned at all is a hang-your-heads-in-shame day for the Texas jurors who allowed it.

Obviously, money talked: Paul got US$40m, Tyson US$20m for what Don King might have called a “Dalliance in Dallas”.

You don’t even have to mention the two billion souls earning less than $1 a day to know that there’s something very wrong about this.

Good luck to both men with their new-found riches for 16 minutes of inaction, but it tells us an awful lot about the world today.

You can’t even blame the promoters or Netflix because they, too, have hit the mother lode.

But for boxing, sport in general and society at large, it is an unmitigated disaster and dire warning.

Sell your soul to social media, and this is what will happen.

From a sporting point of view, you have to wonder what next? A penalty shoot-out between Lionel Messi and some top rapper?

Jake Paul and Usain Bolt over 30 metres? When you think about it, Biden’s involvement isn’t so outrageous.

Or Tiger Woods v Donald Trump over nine holes?

What we saw in Dallas on Saturday was the descent of sport into cheap-thrill entertainment.

Two-minute rounds and just eight of them. Heavy gloves.

The sport of Muhammed Ali, Joe Frazier, Sugar Ray Leonard and yes, Tyson, has become Mickey Mouse.

It was especially sad for me to see Tyson like this – a non-ferrous Iron Mike. Having seen him at his incomparable, invincible best.

As an unashamed fan of the noble art, I flew to see him fight Larry Holmes in Atlantic City in 1988.

With a mate in the city and a budget airline, I reckoned I could pay for the trip if I could sell the story.

One obscure London magazine obliged but accreditation was a problem – the press office – in Trump Plaza, no less, had never heard of them.

But they gave me a ticket – in Row Z of the cavernous convention centre – for which I am eternally grateful.

When Tyson entered the ring, it could not have contrasted more than what transpired in Dallas.

As the lights went out and darkness descended, the spotlight picked him out.

There was no fanfare, he just walked in: black trunks, black boots, no socks, no trim and a snarl that meant only business.

As the light shone, he was a lone figure in the darkness.

I’ll never forget it – it was like unleashing a tiger and a wave of fear swept over the audience all the way to Row Z.

Some 40,000 people feared for Holmes, a grand old champion who was making a comeback.

Some pundits had even thought his experience might do for Tyson.

But when you see him in the flesh…

Tyson knocked him out in the fourth and the once-great Holmes just had no answer. No one could live with Tyson back then.

He went on to rule the sport and become one of the world’s most recognisable faces.

You knew you were in the presence of an immortal – even one that kept pigeons and had a lisp.

But now some chico can come along, young enough to be his son, not even a boxer, and set up an event that grabs the world’s attention.

It’s sad what’s happening to the noble art and to sport. And a telltale sign on which way the wind is blowing.

And it was made to look even worse by the epic women’s fight that preceded it.

You’d take either Katie Taylor or Amanda Serrano to beat the two guys who were the main attraction.

It’s no longer about a great sportsman being an entertainer, it’s about an entertainer who can be a sportsman – of sorts.

Yep, the saddest thing is that for many, the star of the show was Paul: they wondered who on earth was this old guy he was fighting? - FMT

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.