A Boxing Memory: Berbick vs Tyson

A Boxing Memory: Berbick vs Tyson

Angelo Dundee was in the corner. The losing corner. His fighter Trevor Berbick had just been annihilated by a young rampaging Mike Tyson. When asked how do you beat Tyson, Dundee replied, ‘‘With a gun.”

Tyson at 20 had just become the youngest world heavyweight champion in history. A new dawn. A new era. A coronation of a new king. In many ways, it was all those and much more. Before it all came crashing down, and with an awful lot of hindsight, it could have come much much sooner, Tyson had blasted out most of what came before him. That chilling destruction of Marvis Frazier. A few seconds of brutality that sent more than a few chills down the rest of the heavyweight division. But excuses were made by his peers and their connections about the validity of Tyson in the upper echelons of his weight class. Doubts remained, at least by some. They soon would be extinguished.

Berbick entered the ring, the uninspiring WBC heavyweight champion of the world. In less than two rounds, he was reduced to something akin to Bambi on ice.

Berbick 32, and coming off a narrow points win over Pinklon Thomas, which had earned him the WBC bauble earlier in the year, had been down earlier in the round. Although hurt, he had gotten up without too much drama. The next time he tasted the canvas, he wouldn’t be so fortunate. The legs betrayed him courtesy of the violent, powerful fists of the young prowling challenger. Berbick showed immense courage as he repeatedly stumbled around trying to regain his senses. It was brave and inspiring, but equally pitiful. An iconic highlight reel moment. Pure theatre. Of an extremely powerful nature. Tyson would have been conflicted. Moments away from history, he would also have been relishing unleashing more violence on his helpless foe. Tyson often spoke of murderous intentions. He seemed to enjoy his craft a little too much at times.

Make no mistake, Tyson was expected to win, but not like that. Berbick had survived 15 rounds with a peak Larry Holmes and beaten the likes of Greg Page and Pinklon Thomas. A win over the remains of Muhammad Ali in 1981 meant nothing except for the disappearing health of the ageing champion. In that regard, sadly, it meant everything. Only Bernado Mercado had stopped Berbick previously. That was in 1979, a different time. Even in defeat, Berbick had now learned how to survive. Or so we thought.

Berbick admitted he fought the wrong fight. Dundee had talked pre-fight about angles and other mathematical equations. But it wasn’t a fight about tactics. It was one about raw savage power. Berbick could have fought a million different ways, but the end would have been the same.

Tyson, unbeaten in twenty-seven fights, was the star of the show. The fighter expected to bring balance and respect back to the heavyweight division.

Steve Bunce once wrote:

‘There were nine other men who swapped punches, crack pipes, and world titles between the disgraceful last days of Muhammad Ali and the arrival seven years later of Mike Tyson in 1986.’ A little harsh maybe, but with more than a hint of truth. That lost generation of heavyweights all had talent. Some of them had it in abundance. Most of that talent was wasted in the politics of the day and the vices that couldn’t be resisted. Most of them are now dead.

But Mike Tyson brought drama. He also brought eyes back to the big boys when not only the heavyweight division needed them the most, but the sport itself. Ali was gone. Sugar Ray Leonard was still in retirement. Even though he brought plenty of unsavoury headlines throughout much of his career. Tyson was a force of nature that came along at just the right time.

The two-round demolition of Trevor Berbick in Las Vegas in 1986 was the perfect way to start that new era in the heavyweight ranks.

Tyson would pick up the remaining belts. James ‘Bonecrusher’ Smith and Tony Tucker would see their WBA and IBF belts transfer over to the new kid on the block. Smith, with a little too much hugging, and Tucker both lasted the distance. Michael Spinks didn’t see out the first round. Spinks was the last piece of the jigsaw in the crowning of one true King. It was, in some ways, predictable but terrifying nonetheless. Tyson at his peak. Sadly, we never saw him hit that peak again.

“I’ve learnt to live a boring life and love it,” Tyson said in retirement after he had found some semblance of peace in his life. It was the most brutal downward spiral perhaps the sport had ever seen. In Tyson’s case, boring meant survival. Compared to many from his time. He was lucky.