BOXING/Mike Tyson's visit to Dublin: He may not have been emotional, but the former baddest man on the planet was certainly tired when Johnny Watterson heard about his plans for a first visit here

Mike Tyson has been out late in Las Vegas. In fact, Tyson has been out all night. His personal assistant for 11 years, Darryl, cannot wake him. It's 7.45pm Irish time and Tyson was sworn to be at the end of the telephone at 5.30pm.

This is Tyson's world. In Tyson's world things behave differently. Things just come apart. Darryl has been instructed to go wake up Iron Mike. He has been asked to get the key to Mike's room in the Rio Apartments in Vegas, open the door and wake up the former heavyweight champion of the world.

Darryl knows what's good for Mike's post-fight career. He knows broke Mike must honour interviews. But he also knows Mike. Darryl does not want to come apart.

March 1988: "I love to hit people. I love to. Most celebrities are afraid someone is going to attack them. I want someone to attack me. No weapons. Just me and him. I like to beat men and beat them bad," said Mike.

Darryl puts the key in the door. His mobile is switched on and we can hear every footfall, every sniffle. We can even hear Darryl's intense anxiety create static on the phone. We hear the shoes on carpet, the rustle of bedclothes.

"Man, he's asleep," says Darryl. "Mike. Mike. There are guys from Ireland on the phone. Mike. Mike.

"How much is this worth, man, then maybe I can ask him again?"

Tyson went to a magic show on Tuesday night in Vegas. Got caught up in the whiz of it and went to the after-show party. We wonder has a magician made Mike disappear.

We want to hear why he is coming to Dublin on Sunday, March 26th, what he will do in "An Audience with Mike Tyson".

It's dinner. Conversation. Questions. €200 a head to breathe the same air as Scrap Iron Mike in the Burlington Hotel.

May 2002: "I wish that you guys had children so I could kick them in the f******* head or stomp on their testicles so you could feel my pain, because that's the pain I have waking up every day."

"I don't know how this is going to go man," says Darryl. "You're getting me in hot water."

Since Kevin McBride ended Tyson's career last June, the word Ireland has tormented the baddest man on the planet. Ireland has meaning. Now bankrupt Mike is going to make money out of it.

Darryl has peacefully woken him up.

Mike is asked if he is looking forward to coming to Ireland.

"A great deal, sir," he says in a breathy, high-pitched, vulnerable voice.

Why Mike? "I've never been to Ireland, sir. I'm just looking forward to it. Kevin (McBride) is a wonderful young man. A wonderful young man. It's a pleasure to have met him."

But would you fight him in Clones if the deal were right?

"I don't fight any more, sir. I may do some exhibitions, but I don't think I'm fighting any more. I'm looking forward to Ireland."

Mostly Mike doesn't know. Mostly Mike wants to go back to sleep.

Darryl appears to be safe. Mike has torn no heads off. He tells us his eyes are still closed as he's talking and, endearingly, says "sir", each time.

"I'm pretty much together," he assures us. "I'm just taking it pretty easy."

For a convicted rapist, a man who bit opponents and squandered €400 million, very together indeed.