Boxing Notes : Tyson on the Stand--Portrait of Troubled Young Man

LAS VEGAS, Nev. —  Mike Tyson is the lunatic who has taken over the asylum.

What better way to describe the sport of boxing and the camp of the heavyweight champion of the world when journalists will travel, at great expense to their organizations, to document the babblings of a 22-year-old millionaire who is fighting for his right to be ripped off.

In eight hours of stupefying testimony, Tyson made accusations of thievery against Bill Cayton, his manager, but neglected to bring the evidence, elevated Don King to near-sainthood in spite of evidence to the contrary and generally conducted himself in a manner that would be more likely to land an ordinary man in a mental hospital -- without newspaper fanfare.

With his little-boy voice and big doe’s eyes, Tyson the boxing historian asks us to believe that he has no recollection of Hector Mercedes, his first professional opponent, nor of most of the 34 who followed, nor of being paid for any of those fights. How, one might ask, does Tyson explain his fleet of Rolls-Royces, Lamborghinis and Bentleys, his expensive jewelry and wardrobe, his mansion in the North Jersey suburbs? Were they provided by Divine Providence? Or by Don Kingly decree?

Tyson asks us to believe that Cayton stole money from him, but he then admits he has no idea how his money is paid to him or where his money goes. And he admits that until very recently, he didn’t much care. All he knows is that when he asks for something he gets it.

Tyson asks us to believe that it was he, not Don King, who came up with this idea of signing exclusive promotional agreements that are so one-sided in favor of King that a boxing lawyer said, “Any attorney who would advise his client to sign this should be disbarred.”

And Tyson asks us to believe that King needed to be persuaded to accept the deals, as well as accepting power-of-attorney over Tyson’s finances.

Tyson asks us to believe that he is calling the shots, but there was King at every recess, rushing in to counsel Tyson on what to say next. And Tyson chooses to dismiss the allegations of Larry Holmes (“a rich man who can say anything he wants”), Tim Witherspoon (“tested positive for drugs”) and Mitch Green (“a drug addict”) that King robbed them blind with similar agreements.

He chooses to embrace King, a convicted killer, as “my close friend.” At the same time, he chooses not only to reject Cayton, with whom Tyson has earned some $40 million in gross purses, but to belittle, insult and embarrass him in the process.

“He makes me sick to my stomach,” Tyson said of the 70-year-old who helped support Tyson when he was a 13-year-old straight out of a reformatory. Now, Tyson describes Cayton thusly: “Crude and diabolical and a funny old man.”

But Tyson’s testimony showed far more about him than about the admittedly impersonal Cayton. Despite his boasts that he is now his own man, Tyson’s behavior shows he is not far removed from his troubled childhood. His incessant gobbling of candy, his open displays of boredom with the procedures of a lawsuit he brought, his periodic whines that the questions were “stressing me out” and “(ticking) me off” all point to a young man with a lot of growing up to do. His blatantly vulgar on-camera sexual gestures to a female attorney hint at something much darker.

People who came into the hearings sympathizing with Tyson and fearing that he would become another of Don King’s unwitting victims left with quite different sentiments: that he and King deserve each other. Only two questions remain: Who will knife whom in the back first, King or Tyson? And why does Bill Cayton -- or anybody else, for that matter -- still care about Mike Tyson the man?

Rumor has it that Sugar Ray Leonard is conducting his own negotiations for a proposed May 22 Thomas Hearns rematch because he is angry with adviser Mike Trainer and disappointed by his $6.2 million paycheck for stopping Donny Lalonde in November. “He hit the lottery six times in one night and he’s disappointed?” asked one boxing figure. Well, His Sweetness expected to make $15 million.

George Foreman was denied punching-bag David Jaco, turned down Movin’ Melvin Epps and finally settled on Mark Young, a one-round Tyson KO victim in 1985, for his Jan. 26 bout in Rochester, N.Y. For this, Foreman gets $40,000.