ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, February 12, 1992                   TAG: 9202120164
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL                    PAGE: A1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: ED SCHUYLER
DATELINE: INDIANAPOLIS                                LENGTH: Medium


IRON MIKE OR TIN GOD? MAYBE A LITTLE OF BOTH

Mike Tyson would say "Hi" in a small boy's voice. People would be charmed and laugh at the squeaking sound. His smile could be disarming. His glare tested an opponent's courage long before his power tested his chin and his legs.

Naive. Impulsive. Spoiled brat. Street tough. A menacing figure who brought fight crowds to their feet.

Now Mike Tyson is also a convicted rapist. At 25, his future is in shreds.

"I expected the decision, but I still felt sad," said Shelly Finkel, who has known Tyson since he was an amateur and now manages heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield. "He was a tough street kid . . . and you tell a tough street kid he can do anything and he believes you."

On his way to the heavyweight title and beyond, Tyson's way out of many jams was paid for by people who benefited from his ability as a fighter. He was coddled and catered to by power brokers and yes men.

A memorable scene occurred in Tyson's Tokyo hotel suite a few days before his upset title loss to James "Buster" Douglas on Feb. 11, 1990. Tyson was being interviewed while watching a videotape, with several other tapes lying on the floor.

As he talked, the credits at the end were rolling. Tyson looked up and back at Rory Holloway, a friend and aide who was half asleep. Tyson slapped Holloway with an elbow, and Holloway jumped up and put in a new tape, something Tyson could have done by leaning forward.

Fast forward to Monday night and now see Mike Tyson alone at the defense table in a virtually empty courtroom. No one can do anything for him as he waits to hear if he will be convicted of rape and two charges of deviate sexual conduct.

Looking at that lonely figure, several scenes from the Mike Tyson saga came to mind.

Tyson holds hands and looks lovingly at Camille Ewald, who kept house for the late Cus D'Amato, the man who launched the street-tough kid from Brooklyn toward the heavyweight championship. Tyson, a reform school inmate at 13, lived with Ewald, and still calls the 81-year-old Ewald: "Mother."

At a crowded news conference in Tokyo, a woman asks Tyson if he's into psychology as preparation for fights. He doesn't have a thing to do with psychology, Tyson snaps at the woman. "If you can't fight, you're screwed," he says.

An emotionally flat Tyson gets knocked out in the 10th round by Douglas. A few reporters are having dinner with Tyson when one asks him what would happen if he fought Michael Spinks again. "Kill him," Tyson says. On June 27, 1988, Tyson had knocked out Spinks in 91 seconds.

There sits Iron Mike, looking like a 220-pound teddy bear while his wife, actress Robin Givens, tells Barbara Walters in a 1988 TV interview that her husband is a manic depressive. The marriage ends in divorce.

Tyson grins like a child at Christmas after becoming at 20 the youngest heavyweight champion by stopping Trevor Berbick in the second round on Nov. 22, 1986.

Tyson glaring defiantly after smashing Spinks.

His face a mask of pain and defeat, Tyson gropes for his mouthpiece after being knocked down by Douglas. He grabs with a gloved hand and puts it in sideways. He struggles to his feet, the mouthpiece hanging grotesquely, but he has been counted out.

Tyson quickly convinced himself the loss was a fluke. A lot of people agreed. Just an off night, they said. He was still Iron Mike to his fans.

He brought a sense of menace to the ring, and there's nothing more magnetic in boxing than menace. Tyson once told an interviewer that sometimes before a fight he felt overwhelmed by a destructive rage that frightened him.

"I wish I didn't feel that way," he said. "It scares me. It makes me think like there's something wrong with me. It's a miserable feeling. I hate it. But I also love it."

The ring was a vent for that rage.

"If I wasn't in boxing," Tyson once said, "I'd be breaking the law. That's my nature."



by Bhavesh Jinadra by CNB