Photos by James Dimmock

GQ Sport: It looks like Mike Tyson is a changed man. What happened?
Mike Tyson: Listen, the world is like boxing. You don’t realise until you get older. People look at boxing and they think it’s a tough guy’s sport, but it’s not. It’s a thinking guy’s sport. A tough guy’s going to get hurt badly. And in the same way, times have changed. Since the Eighties and the early Nineties, all those tough guys, they can’t survive, they’re dinosaurs. People are too smart for them now. When I read books about all the great conquerors, all the great philosophers, the only thing that sticks in my mind is what Bruce Lee said: “The key to life is flexibility, adaptation.” You know, that’s survival.

Did it take you a long time to get to that? Yeah, yeah. I had all the information, I just never applied it. And now people are seeing a new side of you. Appearing in The Hangover really helped. How did that come about?
Todd Phillips, the director, tried to get in touch with me, and I know he’s a friend of [Brett] Ratner, who is one of my best friends. And Todd just asked me. I didn’t know the movie was going to be a success. I was living the greatest life at that time. I was just hanging out, enjoying the life, but everyone said: “Mike, this is going to be a big movie, you better be careful.” And I had no idea what the response would be. I remember going to a restaurant and there must have been around 25 little white kids, and they saw me and just went crazy. I mean, these kids have never seen me fight, they’re too young, eleven and 12. And they’re acting like they know me, and their mothers and fathers are looking at me, at this crazy-looking guy with tattoos, and I’m overweight, really obese… I loved it.

And you’ve done The Hangover Part II. What did you do in that movie?
Be Mike Tyson, what else? I’m also in negotiations with Barry Sonnenfeld to be in Men In Black 3 with Will Smith.

There was also the Discovery Channel show about your love of pigeons, Taking On Tyson.
Yeah. ‘Cos I always kept pigeons. Even when I was away and in prison, every week I made sure I was sent pictures of my birds. I had birds all over the country, Los Angeles, New York. Wherever I go and hang out, I have a bird coop there.

And you used to have white tigers, too. What happened to them?
Oh, I had to get rid of them. They were awesome but it was crazy that I had them. You know, I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. I mean they were big cats. I was blessed… they say God looks after children, old people and fools. I was so vulnerable. They hold you with one paw and you can’t do anything. It’s just incredible what they can do.

But it was the pigeons that were responsible for your fighting career really.
Yeah, when I was a kid I stole some money from some guy’s house and I bought some pigeons. Some people found out where my pigeons were and they were trying to steal my birds. This guy killed one, ripped its head off, got blood on me, and I just went for him… I think the whole pretext of me being a fighter was bullying, no question.

Mike Tyson wasn’t born a monster. He was born to a father who abandoned him at two and an alcoholic mother who stumbled from one abusive relationship to another. The Tysons – Mike also has an older brother (Rodney) while his sister, Denise, died of a heart attack at 25 – were poor long before they sank into the primordial poverty of Brownsville in Brooklyn. He was a fat, short-sighted, lispy kid with low self-esteem and even lower ambitions. And the neighbourhood vultures saw him as a soft target, messed with him every day, called him Fairy Boy. And Fairy Boy learnt quickly that the only way to get respect, to get money, to get power, was by force. So he chose to become a monster.

In the years that followed, he morphed from the hunted into the hunter. He robbed anyone and everyone, hung out with gangs, picked pockets, ran wild in the streets. It wasn’t until he ended up at the Tryon School for Boys penal institution that he decided he wanted to become a fighter. Soon after, he was introduced to the legendary boxing trainer Cus D’Amato.

In Tyson, the 70-year-old D’Amato saw the raw building blocks of a fighter he believed could be shaped into the most destructive force on the planet. Old Cus, alongside promoters Jim Jacobs and Bill Cayton, plotted a path that would take Tyson to the top of the sport. They kept him busy, fighting every few weeks because he was young and hungry, and also because when he wasn’t focused on fighting he would look for trouble and adventure on the streets. And Tyson always found trouble…What were you like as a child? I was a short, fat, overweight black kid with glasses, so people didn’t take me seriously. I had to see the tough guys in the neighbourhood and show them respect, and I wanted to be like that. I never thought I’d take it this far, but I wanted to be the guy in the neighbourhood that nobody f***ed with, showed respect to. I never thought it’d go this far, but those guys in the neighbourhood were always fighting. They didn’t just talk tough. And people would be cheering them on. I wanted to be the neighbourhood superstar.

By the age of 13 you were in reform school, and that’s when you started to think about boxing. Did you want to change back then?
I did, but I had so many flaws and bad habits. Even when I moved in with Cus in the Catskills [New York State] and I started training to be a fighter, I was still stealing stuff. I would still go back to New York and rob houses. I’d come back and be like, “Hey, I’m a good guy,” but I wasn’t.

Did you want to become the greatest fighter in the world, or did you want it because Cus did?
Yeah, I wanted it because he wanted it, but I wanted it also. As a kid, I didn’t know how amazing he was. I was about 13, and I asked him: “Being great, what’s that?” And he said: “Being great is to do the most difficult thing in the world and to do it with the greatest of ease.” And it was as if he’d planned out my life for me, he was like, “You’re going to go through the regionals, then go through the nationals, tournament after tournament, you’re going to win the Junior Olympics, the Olympics.” I didn’t win the Olympics, but he just kept stroking my ego and saying nice things about me, building up my confidence. And he turned me into a tiger. I didn’t want any money, I just wanted to destroy people. I was just a destroying machine.

And he trained you to be like all the old fighters. You had Jack Johnson’s arrogant swagger, Sonny Liston’s black menace and, worst of all, Jack Dempsey’s cold-hearted brutality. You became the embodiment of every great fighter…
Oh man, I loved Dempsey, and I loved Liston, they were so awesome. Very intimidating fighters. But I also liked the smart fighters, too, like Sugar Ray Robinson, Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, those kind of fighters. You know, I got inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame recently and I had to put my career into some kind of perspective. And when I think about the guys I looked up to, I’ve made more money than them. I’ve accomplished more fame than they could ever dream of. They could not imagine being as famous as I was, going to any planet and it being like your home. But in terms of accomplishments, the old fighters dwarf me.

How does that make you feel?
I’m just happy to be a part of this fraternity. I didn’t go in there thinking I’m the baddest man on the planet or the best fighter, because when these all-time-great guys look down on me, they must be thinking, “Oh, that ain’t nothing. What, you drove a Rolls-Royce, you were the youngest heavyweight champion? Don’t mean nothing. You got 15 knockouts in a year? Well, I got 15 knockouts in a week.” Compared with them, my accomplishments are nothing. It’s like a kindergarten guy talking to an Oxford professor. These kind of guys, Joe Louis, 25 title defences. Rocky Marciano, undefeatable, invincible champion. These guys are crazy. When reality sets in, you better go into that hall of fame on your knees.

Do you still feel like Mike the fighter?
No, I’m not that guy any more. That guy couldn’t survive in this time. His whole persona, his whole infrastructure wouldn’t survive in the 21st century. That guy was a tough guy, this is a thinking man’s world now. It was a tough guy’s world when he evolved, it’s a totally different world now. He has to be humble.

Have you always found it hard to separate yourself from the fighter?
Well, the fighter, that power, totally consumed me. At 19, 20, I had a whole different energy. And you do everything you can to feed the fire, because it feels good.

Cus spoke about taking the spark of interest from a fighter, feeding the spark and it becoming a flame, until eventually it becomes a roaring blaze. Do you still have that fire inside you?
It’s very difficult to suppress it. Every now and again it flares up, but I suppress it now, because I know otherwise it will allow my will to run riot. And once that happens I can no longer have a beautiful relationship. Once my will runs riot, to hell with my wife and children. I make another baby, I want more and more… Sometimes I mistake myself for a god, because that’s what I was told as a kid. I believe you had to think that. You know sometimes it feels good to stroke my own ego. I always come to a situation now on my knees, now that I’m married. And I have to do that or else I’ll destroy it. I’m too extreme.

Did you think you were invincible?
Oh, absolutely. You have to believe that, even if it’s not true. I had to view myself as greater than I was. I can’t go and get Mike Tyson, the tough Brownsville guy from Brooklyn, and be the heavyweight champion. To be the fighter that I became, you couldn’t do that unless you looked at yourself as an invincible gladiator. You have to look into your mind, you have to dream and create the idea of Mike. It didn’t exist, I had to create it.

Did becoming heavyweight champion fulfil you?
I don’t know, maybe it did. It was something I had planned to do since I was 13 years old, but when I became champion it was nothing like I’d anticipated. I was totally vulnerable. A total schmuck. I had no rationality, no thinking capacity, all that stuff wasn’t meant for me. I had the skills to accomplish it, but from where I came from, the lifestyle I lived, I shouldn’t have been in a situation like that. I’d come from being some sneak thief to heavyweight champion of the world. You know, what the hell happened?

***

Once he had ripped his first world title away from Trevor Berbick at the end of 1986, Tyson blitzed through the heavyweight division like a wrecking ball. He became undisputed champion within a year, Tyson Mania gave the sport a whole new lease of life, and all the while he was turning into an ogre. As the champ, he became arrogant, cruel and contemptuous of everyone around him. Having met, fallen in love with and married TV actress Robin Givens (best known for her roles in The Cosby Show and Head Of The Class), he even started living badly out of the ring to show how easy it was to control his opponents within it, putting on 50lb between fights to prove he could lose it again and still win. He cheated on his wife, abused his trainers, sneered at his fans and disrespected his rivals. And yet he kept on winning.

In October 1987 he fought former Olympic gold medallist Tyrell Biggs and was merciless, admitting later that he could have knocked out his opponent as early as the third but preferred to finish him slowly so he would remember the beating for a long time. The following year he knocked out heavyweight legend Larry Holmes in four rounds, the flabby and frightened Tony Tubbs in two and, in what was supposed to be his toughest challenge against Michael Spinks, he took care of business after a minute and a half of the first round. He was at the height of his powers and had the world at his feet, yet he was constantly at war, fighting himself, his lust for street life and his craving for physical, emotional and sexual gratification.

When you lost for the first time, how did you feel?
I couldn’t wait to get back in shape and fight again. I knew I had to fight again, I didn’t feel bad but I knew this was what the greats did. They moved on and they came back, they didn’t get discouraged. Because any time you’re trying to be the best in the world at anything in life, there’s going to be disappointment. But you get over the disappointment and you keep fighting and you keep fighting and you don’t give in.

You said yourself that your heart wasn’t in boxing at that stage…
No, it wasn’t, but that’s OK, because you can come back. The greatest ingredient to success is setback. So you can’t look at a loss as being the end of the world. If you learn from it, it’s the greatest lesson you can have.

Surely, being a student of boxing, the one lesson you must have known is not to get involved with Don King…
I don’t know. He gave me a good deal offering money… You know, he’s not the only guy doing that sort of stuff, he’s just the guy who gets singled out. He’s got long hair, he talks the loudest, so you notice him the most. Fighters complain about him, but it’s just that he sticks out more than others. Maybe he knows how to rob and fight in this business better than other guys… All money’s not good money, though.

When you were convicted of rape [in 1992] and you went to prison, did you see that as the end of your career?
I don’t know. It probably saved my life. I was crazy before I went to prison. I was doing crazy things, sleeping with crazy people… living a life that was just out of control, living an unhealthy lifestyle.

Was prison better or worse than you thought it would be?
I don’t know, it could have been better, you know. But then again, it could have been worse. I read books, worked out. I went in there weighing 265lb and came out 216lb. I believe any time people are going to read a book it’s going to change them. Because then they have a particular viewpoint about the issue they read about, or the person, or whatever it is. Life is changed because you received knowledge from something, and to know is everything. You have to learn to be accountable.

And how were you treated in there?
Well, every now and again you’d get some special privileges but also you’d get, “Hey man, f*** Mike Tyson.” I was just trying to get out. At first I had an extra year put on me and there were a lot of disciplinary write-ups that added an extra year to my time, so I went to some programmes, passed and they gave me my time back.

And when you came out of prison, did you want to fight?
Not really. I just needed money.

Did you know what else you wanted to do?
No, I had no idea. I was so far up my ass I could see the light through my nose.

How crazy did your life get after boxing?
Oh man, I was addicted to chaos. I was doing so many drugs, and when I did I f***ed with people. I would keep thinking someone might want to kill me, you know? Or something crazy, like I’ll be on my motorcycle and I’ll almost kill myself. I’m glad I managed to reclaim myself.How did you do that? I don’t know… I had lost a four-year-old daughter, I was overdosing on cocaine every day. And I just knew it was time. That all this s*** had to stop. I just wanted to cultivate some life skills, I needed to focus on that. Up until she died, I was pretty much walking around in the fog doing what I wanted to and, yeah, it pretty much was all bad.

Did you think about suicide?
I’m sure I did, you know.

Have you ever tried to kill yourself?
Not deliberately, but probably subconsciously. You remember that s*** when I drove that car into the tree [back in 1988], because I was fighting with my wife at the time? I mean, that was crazy s***, I had no idea what else to do. And it really hurt, man. You know, you think when you do something like that it is just going to be over… but when that wheel hits your chest, your head – that s*** hurts.

What did you do to change? I just decided I wanted to own my life, I wanted the old Mike Tyson to die. I wanted to change my life so I decided to become a vegan. It was a contradiction of everything that I was. I loved meat, I was carnivorous…

Did you miss it at all?
For a moment. I had a piece of meat when I was stuck over in Florida. I had a piece of steak, three inches long, three inches thick. And in the middle of the night, I woke up throwing up, vomiting, blood and everything. I hadn’t eaten steak for probably a year then. I’d only eaten soup for a year, tomato and basil soup, and I’d put rice in there. I lost 100lb.

Do you care what people think of you now?
Certain people.

Like family? Are you a good father now?
I try to be. To be there for my children, for my family, as much as I can be. And I want to be there for them. I don’t know, maybe I should be shot for impersonating a good father. But I just want to respect them and for them to respect me. I don’t want to come on and be like: “I’m the man on the scene, hey look at me, I’m in charge.” I want us to discuss things.

You travel a lot all over the world, and people seem to love you now.
I don’t think anybody loves me, I think they respect me.

Do you think they respect you because of your accomplishments or because of the man you’ve become?
I don’t know, I hope because of the man I’ve become.

Do you still worry about getting into trouble?
Nowadays I don’t put myself in a situation where I can get into trouble. I don’t drink and I don’t want to be anywhere where a guy can say I’m looking at his girlfriend, or whatever. I don’t want that pressure any more, always sizing up a guy, being disrespectful, being confrontational. That just took its toll on me.

And what about the old Mike, is he dead?
He’s not completely dead, but he’s not the stalking, crazy madman that he was.

And how’s the new Mike, is he happy?
I don’t know what happy is, but I have goals to accomplish and that can be a form of happiness. Looking out for the kids, you know, being a provider, being a breadwinner. Having a good spirit, having dignity…

And what’s he going to do in the future?
Live, hopefully, but I just want to entertain the world – that’s what I love doing.

You were once the baddest man on the planet. What are you now?
I’m just a guy that watches Nick Jr, takes care of his kids and enjoys Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! I don’t know if I’m the nicest guy on the planet, but I’m trying to survive in the world I’m living in. That’s enough for now.

By Paul Henderson
Via: BritishGQSport

1 Comment

  1. Ecellent story of a Man growng to maturity through his craft,

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