The Young Mike Tyson
One of the factors (besides Snark TV on Comedy Central) mitigating the pain of roundtrips on JetBlue cross-country is the availability of ESPN Classic. During one flight it was a showing of what’s held to be the NFL’s Greatest Game Ever – the Chargers-Dolphins 41-38 OT sweat bath that proved Kellen Winslow, for a moment in time, was Superman.
This time it was Mike Tyson’s Greatest Hits. It’s addictive, arresting TV. The young (age 19, still pre-Givens) Tyson is compact, cat-quick, relentless, taut pugilism personified. He paces impatiently in his corner pre-fight; after opponents wilt within the first round, he looks restless, disappointed, as if he didn’t get his fill. He consistently negates the superior reach of taller, longer opponents, working under their guard. Their fear is transparent. The string of first-round KOs continues.
He is, by his later standards, relatively chivalrous in victory, though as time progresses his boredom is apparent.
Once upon a time, before the self-parody, there was Iron Mike.