There's Something About Evander.........
Posted: 01 May 2015, 09:01
I've been thinking about Evander Holyfield today. I just can't understand why I don't worship this guy.
I was very young when I first watched him against Carlos de Leon, and my interest was piqued because he was already being touted as the only viable threat on the horizon to Tyson.
I watched his early fights and was impressed with how hard he was matched and how quickly he developed.
I fantasised about how his relentless combinations of hooks and uppercuts would deny Tyson his old crown before Desiree intervened.
I watched him fight Qawi, Dokes and Bowe in breathtakingly exciting fights.
I came close to being traumatised by the experience of watching the rematch with Bowe live.
And the pride I felt in his effort in the rubber could not have been greater if he was my own father.
His body may have been, apparently, broken. But here was a man whose spirit was unbreakable.
I told everyone who would listen that he would give Tyson his toughest fight since Buster Douglas. I knew the fight was his after the first round and I wasn't close to being surprised.
My sympathy shifted to Tyson after the first fight, initially because I'm such a hopeless fool for an underdog. And to me, the evidence was overwhelming that Holyfield had Tyson's number. I believed that Mike would summon the spirits of the champions past, who he understood and admired, to regain his old magic and sweep Holyfield aside in a hurricane of head movement. Yes, I was a hopelessly naive teenager with a silly, romantic view of my heros and the world they live in.
I was totally ignorant of steroids and peds at this point. But I remember vividly a strange feeling when I saw Holyfield in the ring that night. It was surreal to see such a drastic transformation in his physical appearance, I felt like I was watching somebody else. And there was an overwhelming feeling of invincibility about him, it looked like bullets would bounce off those bulging muscles. I despaired for Tyson.
After the fight I was just sad for Tyson. His actions completely eclipsed Holyfield's blatant headbutting. But I could sympathise with him feeling helpless against Holyfield.
Now I wouldn't say that this fight was a definite turning point in my feelings about Evander, but definately something changed that night. I still had enough emotional investment to cry tears of sadness when he was stopped by James Toney.
But I became increasingly uncomfortable with his displays of religious behaviour and his seemingly total immersion in religious zeal while singing his way to the ring.
It was as if that warrior spirit was no longer an integral part of him, as if that crucial component of his identity had been exposed as something external.
And it might seem unfair, but all of his heroic exploits seemed to be tainted in my fickle heart. I just couldn't summon up those old feelings of adoration and respect the way I can for guys like Lewis, Bowe, Herol Graham, Whitaker and countless others.
The man I once admired and idolised now triggered the same kind of trepidation I get when confronted with a religious zealot willing to die for his god.
Now I start to wonder if it's fair to exhalt Holyfield's amazing fighting spirit over a guy like Lennox Lewis, for example. Who's to say that he wouldn't have shown as much bravery as Holyfield if he had been allowed to fight on against McCall?
Why doesn't Lennox get as much respect for beating Ray Mercer in a close fight? He might not have scored a knock down, but at least he didn't fall far enough behind to need one.
Is Evander given too much respect for climbing out of holes that he dug himself into?
Am I being unfair on a man naturally smaller than many of his rivals? Am I completing the transition from hopeless naivety to cynical dick with a final purge of what's left of my old idols?
Evander provokes some kind of schizophrenic confusion in my loyalties.
It's like looking back on an old relationship that went sour, and thinking sadly about what could have been.
I was very young when I first watched him against Carlos de Leon, and my interest was piqued because he was already being touted as the only viable threat on the horizon to Tyson.
I watched his early fights and was impressed with how hard he was matched and how quickly he developed.
I fantasised about how his relentless combinations of hooks and uppercuts would deny Tyson his old crown before Desiree intervened.
I watched him fight Qawi, Dokes and Bowe in breathtakingly exciting fights.
I came close to being traumatised by the experience of watching the rematch with Bowe live.
And the pride I felt in his effort in the rubber could not have been greater if he was my own father.
His body may have been, apparently, broken. But here was a man whose spirit was unbreakable.
I told everyone who would listen that he would give Tyson his toughest fight since Buster Douglas. I knew the fight was his after the first round and I wasn't close to being surprised.
My sympathy shifted to Tyson after the first fight, initially because I'm such a hopeless fool for an underdog. And to me, the evidence was overwhelming that Holyfield had Tyson's number. I believed that Mike would summon the spirits of the champions past, who he understood and admired, to regain his old magic and sweep Holyfield aside in a hurricane of head movement. Yes, I was a hopelessly naive teenager with a silly, romantic view of my heros and the world they live in.
I was totally ignorant of steroids and peds at this point. But I remember vividly a strange feeling when I saw Holyfield in the ring that night. It was surreal to see such a drastic transformation in his physical appearance, I felt like I was watching somebody else. And there was an overwhelming feeling of invincibility about him, it looked like bullets would bounce off those bulging muscles. I despaired for Tyson.
After the fight I was just sad for Tyson. His actions completely eclipsed Holyfield's blatant headbutting. But I could sympathise with him feeling helpless against Holyfield.
Now I wouldn't say that this fight was a definite turning point in my feelings about Evander, but definately something changed that night. I still had enough emotional investment to cry tears of sadness when he was stopped by James Toney.
But I became increasingly uncomfortable with his displays of religious behaviour and his seemingly total immersion in religious zeal while singing his way to the ring.
It was as if that warrior spirit was no longer an integral part of him, as if that crucial component of his identity had been exposed as something external.
And it might seem unfair, but all of his heroic exploits seemed to be tainted in my fickle heart. I just couldn't summon up those old feelings of adoration and respect the way I can for guys like Lewis, Bowe, Herol Graham, Whitaker and countless others.
The man I once admired and idolised now triggered the same kind of trepidation I get when confronted with a religious zealot willing to die for his god.
Now I start to wonder if it's fair to exhalt Holyfield's amazing fighting spirit over a guy like Lennox Lewis, for example. Who's to say that he wouldn't have shown as much bravery as Holyfield if he had been allowed to fight on against McCall?
Why doesn't Lennox get as much respect for beating Ray Mercer in a close fight? He might not have scored a knock down, but at least he didn't fall far enough behind to need one.
Is Evander given too much respect for climbing out of holes that he dug himself into?
Am I being unfair on a man naturally smaller than many of his rivals? Am I completing the transition from hopeless naivety to cynical dick with a final purge of what's left of my old idols?
Evander provokes some kind of schizophrenic confusion in my loyalties.
It's like looking back on an old relationship that went sour, and thinking sadly about what could have been.
