Only if Evander Holyfield somehow fails to retain his heavyweight championship late Saturday night will he cause any more confusion in boxing`s circus maximus. It has come to that. You schlep many miles not to see a man win, but to say you were there on the wild chance that he loses.
Once in an eternity, usually halfway around the planet, it happens. Mike Tyson went all the way to Tokyo to have a party, only to have his yen handed him by James ”Buster” Douglas. We cannot pinpoint Douglas` present location, but it is likely near the restaurant of his choice.
Now Holyfield, unbeaten at 26-0, finds himself in a spot you wouldn`t wish on a leopard. When last seen midst his public in his hometown, Evander was wearing an Atlanta Braves cap and munching hot dogs above first base at Fulton-County Stadium. That was during the World Series, or shortly after his much-awaited battle for the ages against Tyson had been postponed on account of on oowie in the latter`s rib cage.
”I love baseball,” Holyfield sighed at the time, ”but I can`t watch it for a living.”
What a healthy specimen such as he requires is exercise, even a midnight drill versus an 11th-hour foe. Well, the spoils aren`t terrific-only about $6 million-but Holyfield at least can get paid for practice in the Omni. A caring sort, Evander took less money than Las Vegas was dangling to show his stuff to grieving neighbors, who are still waiting for Lonnie Smith to score from first base on a double.
Holyfield, too, is frustrated, for he was to bank approximately $30 million for the Tyson bout that has been postponed indefinitely. Iron Mike has a January court date to answer a rape charge in Indianapolis. Francesco Damiani was next in line, but he departed with a spaghetti ankle. So promoters searched far and wide to come up with the far-out and rather wide ”Killer”
Bert Cooper, a tomato can not likely to provide a tomato surprise.
Even if Cooper enters the ring and faints, always a possibility, he will pocket about $750,000. That`s good dough for him, and he has nothing to lose but his senses, which haven`t always been part of his entourage anyway. Years ago, ”Killer” had a killer lifestyle of drugs and drink and carnal instincts. His habits alienated Joe Frazier, a fellow Philadelphian who had wanted to train Cooper for more wholesome highs.
”Now, Joe acts like he doesn`t know me,” Cooper groused. ”He came to my last fight, and he wouldn`t say anything to me. Wouldn`t even look at me. We`re both Capricorns. We used to go out and celebrate our birthdays together. He`d flash his ring at me, and tell me about his wars with Ali. But now Joe has nothing to do with me. I still love him, though, and still admire him. And I want to prove something to him. I want to show him what I can do.”
Holyfield, a classy fellow, merely stares through this balderdash. He barely even blinked the other day when Tyson and alter-ego Don King barged through town, bearing turkeys for the hungry of Atlanta. With Evander reticent, rival promoter Dan Duva jabbed quite effectively, however. Said he, if King wants to assist the poor, King should buy Thanksgiving dinner for Tim Witherspoon, who is suing His Hairness for $25 million. When it comes to insults, boxing takes no holiday.
King branded Holyfield-Cooper a ”despicable sham,” which is closer to the truth than dearest Don usually veers. Thing is, it was Tyson who withdrew from the match everybody wanted. So, we are all left to witness this mystery guest Cooper, who lists among his victims Cedric Parsons, Reggie Gross, Lorenzo Boyd, Willie DeWit and Tyrone Booze, not necessarily in that order. What a rogue`s gallery. At least Cooper should be in reasonable shape. He flattened the one and only Joe Hipp on Oct. 18, the same day Tyson called in sick.
Now, of course, Tyson comes across as 50,000 watts of ready and willing.
”I don`t respect Holyfield as a fighter or a person,” he announced during his food drive. ”He`s taking these peanut fights when the one he needs is me. I`m box office, not him. We could have a series of fights at $40 million an episode. I`m not going away. Everybody is trying to write me off and finish my career, but I ain`t going to jail.”
If Tyson is found guilty, however, he could go to the slammer for 63 years, after which both he and Holyfield probably will be too old to entertain us in a meaningful manner. Their hands might be shaking, but they won`t come out fighting.
