“What Mike Tyson Learned from His Mother (and Alexander the Great)” By Mark Kriegel

In December 2013, not long after the publication of Mike Tyson’s autobiography, The Wall Street Journal asked him—along with forty‑nine other distinguished writers, academics, artists, politicians, and CEOs—to name their favorite books of the year. Among Tyson’s selections was a Kindle book, Alexander the Great: The Macedonian Who Conquered the World.

“Everyone thinks Alexander was this giant, but he was really a runt,” wrote Tyson, who nevertheless, at the height of his own megalomania, commissioned a seven‑foot likeness of Alexander (along with congruently sized statues of Genghis Khan and the Haitian revolutionary Jean‑Jacques Dessalines) by the pool of his Las Vegas home.

“Alexander, Napoleon, Genghis Khan, even a cold pimp like Iceberg Slim—they were all mama’s boys,” wrote Tyson. “That’s why Alexander kept pushing forward. He didn’t want to have to go home and be dominated by his mother.”

Boxing is permeated with every variety of Oedipal construct. In the last decade or so, the prevalent strain is fighters not merely driven by their fathers but actually trained by them. These dads tend to be street guys who may or may not have boxed themselves. And while the fighter inevitably wants to surpass all paternal expectation, he (or, yes, she) also wants to make Daddy proud. And rich.

Then again, I still see plenty of fighters who just want to kill their fathers, typically for abandonment. Mike might’ve fallen into this category, at least judging from his recollection of Curlee: He and my mother never spoke to each other, he’d just beep the horn and we’d just go down and meet him. The kids would pile into his Cadillac and we thought we were going on an excursion to Coney Island or Brighton Beach, but he’d just drive around for a few minutes, pull back up to our apartment building, give us some money, give my sister a kiss, and shake me and my brother’s hands and that was it. Maybe I’d see him in another year.

So much for the paternal side of the equation. But it’s the true mama’s boy who seems to me the most dangerous kind of fighter.

Full Article

posted by f.sheikh

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.