Mystery unravels in ring

Dean Juipe

Friday, Nov. 8, 1996 | 11:59 a.m.

Impoverished as a child and nine-figures wealthy today, Mike Tyson remains a stunning man of contrasts whose many opposites have found a way to attract.

He's easily definable yet he defies categorization.

He's a package of mood swings, multiple personalities and contradictions.

On display Thursday at the final press conference before his Saturday fight with Evander Holyfield at the MGM Grand Garden: Tyson as the bemused center of attention, more alert than usual but not without his moments of tedium.

And, as always, his learned philosophic and religious beliefs were rumbling with a street-built desire to belittle and intimidate his pious, soft-spoken opponent.

It was Tyson the Holy vs. Tyson the Hun.

The Holy: "He's a beautiful fighter, I just believe I'm better," he said of Holyfield.

The Hun: "I'm looking forward to exposing him to a lot of pain," he added with a certain amount of glee.

This internal war has been percolating since Tyson came into the public eye 11 years ago. It's constantly evident: the high voice vs. the unparalleled aggression; the recitation of quotes from scholars past vs. the degrading insults that spring from his lips; the embrace of religion and history vs. an inclination toward cartoon characters and comic books; and, most recently, a protective attitude toward his four children vs. the reality that he neither lives with them nor with any of their four mothers.

A man who frequently "sulks in silence," as one of his associates said this week, may never be carefree in spite of immense riches and acclaim.

So maybe it's no surprise he fights for a living.

"I'm just happy to be here," he said at the press conference, although a few minutes earlier he wasn't happy to be pestered by a costumed Don King look-alike who was invited to stroll across the stage. "Get away from me," Tyson said coldly to the King clone, simultaneously brushing the imposter's hand from his shoulder.

Even on his most cordial days, Tyson has his limits.

"He's the greatest fighter I've ever seen," said the hyperbole-minded King, only this time he was probably telling the truth. Tyson, at 30 years old and with 45 victories in 46 fights, has the potential to wear that label for many years to come.

Twenty months removed from prison, he is dominating a division that reacts to him with a collective fear. And while Holyfield may not be frightened per se, he also has yet to explain just how he plans to go about his fight with the World Boxing Association champion.

In all likelihood, Holyfield, 34, with a 32-3 record, has no plan aside from taking his swings with a gambler's intuition. Bettors may be swayed by the ex-champ's sterling qualities but the bookmakers are not, Tyson having opened as a 25-to-1 favorite.

The MGM currently has him at 15 to 1.

"I know everyone's excited," Tyson said of the long-awaited bout that was originally scheduled for 1991 (but was canceled due to Tyson's damaged rib cartilage).

Neither Tyson nor Holyfield was about to be prodded into a war of words, with Tyson's remarks concise as always.

"I don't predict any rounds," he said, putting off a question about how far the fight might go. Similar queries were met with similar replies: "I'm just ready to get down, man," was one, and "I'm just interested in showing you my thing" was another.

Tyson, who is receiving $30 million for this fight and whose income is approaching $100 million just for his five fights in 1995-96, let his managers tackle the more sensitive issues.

Such as God.

"Holyfield is parading around town, talking about how he has God on his side and trying to give the perception that this is a good man vs. a bad man fight," said one of Tyson's co-managers, Rory Holloway. "Where does he get off talking like that?"

Added co-manager John Horne: "God loves everybody, not just Evander Holyfield. After Evander gets knocked out, God is still going to love him."

It was Holyfield who fueled the "God-is-on-my side" subject with the inference that he'll utilize some divine assistance to "change the world with this fight."

No one was quite sure what he meant, including Tyson.

"Change the world?" he muttered to Horne, sitting to his left.

The boxing world might turn upside down should Holyfield win, as might the front office at the MGM, which has Tyson under contract for a minimum of two more fights.

Any other changes Holyfield envisions are apt to fall under the category of wishful thinking. Then again, his soft predictions of victory -- "you'll see, I'll win" -- could be dismissed just as easily.

When the bell rings, Holyfield won't have to deal with Tyson's complexities but that won't lessen his load. That's because for all the juxtapositions of his private life, once inside the ring Tyson is no enigma.