AMERICA AT LARGE: Mike Tyson missed with the only punch he threw at Lennox Lewis at the chaotic New York press conference brawl which precipitated Nevada's denial of a boxing licence on Tuesday, but somewhere in that scrum, either Tyson or a member of his posse displayed better aim and threw a shot that knocked Jose Sulaiman out cold.
Sulaiman, the dictator who governs the World Boxing Council (WBC) from his offices in Mexico City, was taken to a hospital for observation. His first words upon reviving were: "The world wants to see this fight. And what the world wants, we should do."
In a more subdued official communiqué issued two days later, the WBC echoed essentially the same sentiment. While conceding that "the spectacle witnessed at the press conference on January 22nd was rather unpleasant", the organisation reaffirmed that "the World Boxing Council ordered this mandatory fight, which will be sanctioned by our organisation in any city or country where it is held".
In other words, the courageous decision of the Nevada State Athletic Commission (NSAC) wasn't necessarily a death knell for the proposed heavyweight championship bout, but Tyson may have killed it all by himself. The suspicion lingers that, somewhere in the recesses of his tortured mind, that was his intention all along.
In the aftermath of the New York melee, Lewis had coyly declined to discuss reports that Tyson had bitten him, presumably to avoid prejudicing the Nevada commissioners who would deliberate on the boxer's fate. Shortly after the NSAC had, by a 4-1 vote, rejected Tyson's licence application, Lewis issued a statement confirming that Tyson was, if nothing else, a recidivist cannibal.
"The fact is that Mike Tyson bit through my trousers and took a significant piece of flesh out of my thigh. I was particularly disturbed by the fact that he went before the commission today and did not tell the truth by denying what he knows occurred," said Lewis.
"I have made no decision yet about the possibility of fighting Mike Tyson in another jurisdiction that may license him, because I want to consider carefully the reasons expressed by the commission in denying the licence. In addition, I am still consulting with my attorneys as to the legal consequences should I declare that I will not go forward with the bout.
"I know that all of my fans were looking forward to the Lewis/Tyson fight, as was I.
I am sorry that the situation has not yet been resolved."
Efforts will continue to find a renegade state which might officially bless a Lewis-Tyson fight. It might even be Michigan, as greed-blinded local authorities there have already suggested, and bottom-feeders from London to Denmark have also expressed interest.
It isn't altogether clear that Tyson even wants to fight Lewis (our suspicion is that his New York performance was simply a refinement of his tactic against Evander Holyfield, whose ears he chomped down on largely to save himself from what promised to be a long, sustained beating), nor is it clear that Lewis is any longer interested.
This much we do know: the entire agreement will be declared null and void if Tyson has not been granted a licence in the appropriate jurisdiction by a specified (though not specified to us) date.
On the surface, the five Nevada commissioners appeared to have an easy decision. Four years ago, when the NSAC re-licensed Tyson after his banishment from the Holyfield fight, the late Dr Elias Ghanem, then the commission chairman, sternly told the boxer: "I want to warn you, from my view, this will be your last chance. You will either conduct yourself in accordance with our rules and regulations, or you will probably never fight again in Nevada."
Since Tyson had plainly and repeatedly violated that mandate, the issue should have been a slam-dunk, but arrayed against what would appear to have been a common-sense decision were the forces of the local economy.
The NSAC members are all political appointees, answerable to Governor Kenny Guinn, and Nevada's economy revolves around the casino industry, which has been reeling since September 11th, with tens of thousands of jobs lost.
Ruling out a promotion that might have brought $400 million to the local economy took some courage, especially with the Rev Jesse Jackson in town, lobbying the commissioners with nonsensical talk about Tyson's civil rights being violated if he were denied the licence.