CHAPTER ONE
THE BEAST
It was a time of myth and legend, of monster and beast.
In the 1980s, heavyweight boxing champs were treated as immortals, and few dominated the world’s attention like Mike Tyson. He overcame a fatherless upbringing in the Brooklyn projects and won his first nineteen pro bouts by knockout. He threw punches aimed through opponents’ skulls, leaving them on the mat as he strode away, a predatory animal bored by the efforts of his prey. Was there a man alive who could defeat him?
Kid Dynamite.
Iron Mike.
The Baddest Man on the Planet.
At age twenty, he earned his first championship belt, the youngest ever to do so, and though his potential was limitless, he still had excesses to overcome. A boxing god beset by personal demons, he turned to others for guidance. If they could only corral him for the next decade or so, surely he would take his place in the pantheon of the sport’s all-time greats.
Was taming such a creature even possible, though?
From his childhood to the present, Mike has had a number of managers, everyone from Cus D’Amato to Rory Holloway to Magic Johnson. To understand the challenges they faced, one would need to identify the type of animal they were dealing with. A panda would be one thing. A raccoon another.
But a tiger …
Well, in that case, they had a real beast on their hands.
Consider these statements Mike made while under the nervous eyes of his managers:
“I don’t want to be a tycoon. I just want to conquer people and their souls.”
“I think I’ll take a bath in his blood.”
“My defense is impregnable, and I’m just ferocious … I want to eat his children. Praise be to Allah!”
“I was spoiled, like a brat. I had anything I wanted … I’ve never had a job in my life. What I know how to do is hurt big, tough men—on the street and off.”
“I’m just a … dark shadowy figure from the bowels of iniquity.”
“I guess I’m gonna fade into Bolivian.”
Before Mike rose to stardom and later
