Evander Proved Us Wrong

LAS VEGAS —  Are you sitting down? Ready for this?

Do me a favor. See if the sun rises in the west tomorrow. See if the oceans run dry.

You’re going to think I’ve been drinking. You’ll think I’m making it up. But, honest, Evander Holyfield beat Mike Tyson Saturday night. Knocked him out!

It was supposed to be an execution, not a fight. Tyson, one of the most awesome creatures you ever saw when his opponent is paralyzed with fear, was supposed to leave Holyfield in a pile in a corner within a minute.

They even insulted Evander by selling the fight by the round in the expectation that he might hit the floor immediately and the buying customer would feel cheated.

They needn’t have worried. As this is written, a chastened Mike Tyson, his eyes hollow with stunned disbelief, is standing in the ring trying to answer questions.

Fighting Tyson with a boxing glove was supposed to be as forlorn an adventure as hunting a tiger with a switch. The implements were ill-suited to the purpose.

People not only feared for Evander’s safety, they feared for his life. Not too long ago, a fibrillation appeared to have been detected in Evander’s heart. It proved a false alarm, but in the ring with Mike Tyson seemed as bad a place for a guy with a bad heart as the top of Mt. Everest.

There’s nothing wrong with Evander Holyfield’s heart. Before the fight, we knights of the press asked him if he intended to box with Tyson. You know, stick and run, stay out of his way, try to pile up points. “Naw,” said Holyfield, “I’m going to knock him out.”

There was a short pause while we smothered our laughter.

But, Evander had spotted the flaw in Tyson’s grandeur. Tyson makes his fight like a guy chasing a bus, about as scientific as a cop busting up a crap game in an alley. Evander makes his fight like a guy hanging drapes. He’s methodical.

He knew Tyson would come to him. And when he did, Evander smashed him in the mouth. He floored Tyson in the fourth round but Mike didn’t learn the lesson. He continued to charge.

There were times when Evander seemed able to turn the fight into what the fight mob calls an “agony” fight, i.e., one in which the contestants labor at long distance or in frequent clinches without inflicting any discernible damage on each other.

But Evander has never been in an agony fight in his life. And he was determined this would be no exception. He pounded respect into Tyson, who, by the fourth round, was even paying respectful attention to his corner, something he usually scorns.

Evander made Tyson respect him, but not enough for Tyson to change his reckless style, which gradually undid him.

Before the fight, someone asked Evander if he didn’t feel the fight was coming too late in his career, that he would have been more ready when it was first staged five years ago. Evander shook his head. “I’m smarter now,” he said.

He was. He fought a smarter fight than Tyson.

They said he was crazy to take this fight. Over-age and under-dog. He was only going to ring down the curtain on a distinguished career, bloody and beaten. In the end, it was the younger, feared over-dog who ended up bloody and beaten.

Evander knew he was a better fighter than the world viewed him. Saturday night, he proved it to everybody. He was St. George bringing home the dragon on his shield. It was a victory for the white hats, but it was in sum a victory for a guy who was not resigned to be just another heavyweight champion but a guy to whom attention must be paid by history.