Tyson takes a bite out of crime or maybe just sanity.
From Lance Armstrong’s triumph over cancer to Cal Ripken’s streak, the landscape of sports is carved with moments of purity. Whether it’s Ripken taking laps around Camden Yards, shaking every hand in his path, or it’s the U.S. Army carrying Pat Tillman’s coffin to his grave, sports figures can sometimes, momentarily, ascend above their athletic exploits and become culturally relevant.As he prepares to make a comeback, combating all his critics with fists flailing, I’m reminded that one such moment belongs to Mike Tyson. Highlighted in the annals of absurdity, not to be forgotten, the great storm on the windy sea of sports debacle and possibly the most vividly pure moment in recent sports history, is the night Mike Tyson bit a chunk out of Evander Holyfield’s ear.
The last 10 years have had their share of frightfully foul moments. Dennis Rodman, sport’s resident dragqueen, climaxed his career with a swift kick to the family jewels of a surprised reporter. John Rocker, Atlanta’s trusty closer, articulately portrayed his idiocy to a Sports Illustrated reporter, throwing racial caution to the wind and vilifying everyone from his teammates to the entire city of New York.
While these moments may never be excused from eternal purgatory, Mike Tyson’s fight-night snack is the coup d’etat, lacking any measure of subtlety or comprehensive excuse.
Dennis Rodman is a sensationalist, an exhibitionist. And for much of his career, his eccentricities put him on the front page of newspapers and magazines, earning him the attention necessary to fill his bank account with endorsement deals. His antics, even when they went too far, always seemed like an act.
In John Rocker’s case, while his words were inescapably offensive, he seemed the victim (and I say that with a cringe) of amazing ignorance, almost inconceivable ignorance. He should never be excused, but in some way, reflecting back on all that transpired after the article was published, Rocker losing a career which once seemed so promising, his startling ignorance teetered on the fence of sympathy.
On the other hand, Mike Tyson’s mouthful of ear retains purity. It was certifiably insane, lacking explanation and eluding reason. Tyson’s past, including his threats to eat children, his pigeon collection and face tattoo, was like the confident pitch of a successful salesman and biting Holyfield’s ear was the line to close the deal.
While sports has had its sordid characters and shameful events, none climbed the peak of delusion quite the same way as Tyson’s attack. Along with his 1980s superstar sidekick in the war against understandable behavior, Michael Jackson, Tyson exemplified how fame and fortune, celebrity and expectation, can cripple those unprepared or unequipped. Tyson, much like Jackson, comes off like a child trapped in a disproportionately talented body, unable to handle the pressure of being who he is, succumbing to impulse and then insanity.
Considering the Kobe Bryant case and the behavior of athletes like Shawn Kemp (who last time I heard had 500 kids with 750 women), sports is riddled with athletes whose perception of right and wrong, or at least social convention, is skewed.
While Tyson makes yet another bid to rehabilitate his reputation (never forget when he came out of prison claiming to be religiously inspired), trying to fight enough fights to pay off his gargantuan debt, his masterpiece will always be that one night in Vegas when he grabbed a firm hold on the seedy underbelly of sports and bit it wide open.