A Boxing Memory: Tyrell Biggs

A Boxing Memory: Tyrell Biggs

When the unbeaten former Olympic gold medalist Tyrell Biggs challenged the fearsome untouched Mike Tyson in 1987 for the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world, I told everyone who would listen that Biggs would beat Tyson. After seven largely one-sided rounds, everyone stopped listening.

I was in truth on a roll. A few months prior, I had tipped a Sugar Ray Leonard on the comeback trail and seemingly on a mission to oblivion, to beat Marvelous Marvin Hagler. A prediction admittedly made from the heart with little common sense. But it got me a little attention when Leonard pulled off a modern-day miracle. It didn’t last. I should have retired the prediction hat on the spot. Biggs attired in a Dynasty-type white robe, shoulder pads, and all, similar to what Leonard wore the previous April in Las Vegas when he upset Hagler. But Biggs wasn’t Leonard. He needed far more than a matching outfit to defeat Tyson.

It was, in my defence, a prediction formed from the innocence and naivety of youth. Not armed with the full facts surrounding the personal life of Biggs, my pre-fight thoughts were masked by the many demons Biggs was fighting against.

Make no mistake, Biggs had talent. And plenty of it. But he also had an alcohol and drug problem. Before the fight with Tyson, Biggs entered rehab. He got clean. But in many ways, the damage was irreversible.

“If I don’t kill him, it don’t count,” Tyson’s words that more than indicated a long-carried resentment and no little bad blood from the amateur days. Biggs was picked over Tyson at super-heavyweight for the 1984 Olympic Games. Tyson dropped down to heavyweight for the Olympic Trials and promptly lost two fights with Henry Tillman that decided his amateur resume didn’t include a trip to the Olympic Games. But Biggs and his manager Lou Duva had stoked the fire further in their pre-fight words to reopen old wounds. Tyson remembered.

I wasn’t alone in thinking Biggs, who was unbeaten in 15 fights, had a chance to beat Tyson. There was talk of a possible trilogy akin to the unforgettable Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier fights. Even the trade paper Boxing News, while thinking Tyson would eventually win, they thought it could be the best world heavyweight title fight since the classic Larry Holmes and Ken Norton fight in 1978. Even they got it wrong.

The opening round promised plenty and offered me hope of a second miracle. Biggs danced and jabbed his way to a highly promising early mark on the judge’s scorecards. Biggs had success in those first three minutes. But even as the round was closing out, there were ominous warning signs that it would be a long night for him. And so it proved. It was from that point on a terribly one-sided drubbing. Biggs was incredibly brave, but Tyson was at his most vicious that night in New Jersey. Somehow, Biggs lasted while the 7th, until mercifully, it was waved off.

“He talked so much. He didn’t show any class or respect. I wanted to make him pay with his health,” a Tyson who was in no mood for forgiveness post-fight.

You could make a legitimate argument that Tyson ruined Biggs and took away his prime. In many ways, the fight with Tyson had come too early for Biggs, but with his lifestyle and his battles outside of the ring, there was that feeling that his way of life would at some point catch up with Biggs. It was a now-or-never situation by that point.

Biggs won gold at the 1984 Olympics, becoming the first-ever Olympic super-heavyweight champion. But the vices were already in play, even by that early stage of his career. Biggs was part of the talent-heavy American team from those games. Probably the finest ever array of talent ever assembled by the Americans for a single Olympic Games. They won eleven medals, including six gold medals, and Biggs turned pro under the tutelage of George Benton the same year with much fanfare. But on his pro debut at the iconic Madison Square Garden, Biggs was booed heavily despite winning on points against a reluctant Mike Evans. Biggs took the boos to heart and went on a cocaine binge that ended in a trip to rehab. The drug problem that started in High School was now threatening to engulf him and finish his career even before it had started. And worse. Much worse.

The American returned the following year and started to slowly find some career momentum, but trying to find a more crowd-pleasing style was detrimental to his natural assets.

Biggs improved his record, wins against the usual suspects on the boxing merry-go-round, but a win over the ever-dangerous Jeff Sims started to convince many who questioned his desire for the sport. From the 3rd round onwards, Biggs fought one-handed. A broken right collarbone left Biggs having to stick and move his way to victory. Biggs gutted it out, and despite the obvious handicap won a clear decision over Sims.

Another show of true grit saw Biggs prevail over David Bey. A terrible cut over his left eye left Biggs on the brink of his first professional defeat. The referee Richard Steele was perhaps only seconds away from stopping the fight until Biggs found the punches he needed in the 6th round to make everything else irrelevant.

Elsewhere on the card Tyson outpointed James ‘Bonecrusher’ Smith, and once Tyson had dispatched Pinklon Thomas and Tony Tucker to be crowned the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world, thoughts turned to a fight with Biggs.

The fight with Tyson effectively removed Biggs from any further consideration for another tilt at world heavyweight glory. Biggs took a hiatus after his savage loss to Tyson, and when he returned in 1988, his place in boxing was very different. Francesco Damiani and Gary Mason both stopped him, leaving Biggs going from unbeaten to losing three fights on the spin. He never recovered.

It was then very much a road to nowhere. The defeats mounted up, and Biggs even showed up at a million-dollar tournament in Mississippi at a place called Casino Magic. There were no million dollars, no magic, only desperation.

The field of renegades included fellow Tyson victims Bonecrusher Smith, Jose Ribalta, and Tony Tubbs, who beat Biggs in the semi-finals. The promised million was gradually reduced on the night. A Wild West kind of night that could easily have ended in a good old-fashioned shootout. A circus act in a sport that does it so well.

Biggs finally retired in 1998. At least he went out with a win. The opponent a 1-1, a win that made even the tournament in Mississippi less tragic. Biggs had 40 fights, with 10 defeats. Entering the fight with Tyson, Biggs was 15-0, in the final 25 fights he managed 15-10. The decline was brutal. And sad.

Retirement initially offered hope, apparently, Biggs got clean, and some early interviews in retirement seemed to indicate Biggs had found his inner peace. But further interviews found online had the look of the opposite. In 2022, a GoFund page arose:

‘Today Biggs is struggling both mentally and physically. He’s been living in a group home for the past year.’ Biggs needed help and plenty of it. A sad depressing story. But a familiar one.

The hope is that Biggs is now in some kind of recovery and living his life as best as he possibly can. Without the demons, Biggs could easily have had at least some time as the heavyweight champion of the world, but sadly, he never gave himself the opportunity to do so. Would he have ever beaten Tyson? Probably not, but it would have been a much better fight. And a much closer one.