Columnist Dean Juipe: Both men's fight plans went awry

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at [email protected] or 259-4084.

Meticulous as the preparations were, there were no guarantees once the action unfolded.

All the prefight stories about security within the MGM Grand Garden, about Mike Tyson adhering to his new trainer's advice and about Frans Botha erring only on the side of caution were subject to variances after Saturday's main event was under way.

Rather quickly, that security was tested and each of the fighters tossed his game plan out the window.

Chaotic? It was, potentially.

Interesting? It was, in the long run.

Tyson, of course, defeated Botha by fifth-round knockout in a spirited fight that appeased a crowd of the usual high rollers unusually mixed with MGM employees who were granted almost free access. When the MGM realized it had hit the wall with ticket sales, it asked only token remuneration ($16) from any of its employees interested in attending.

It was a questionable strategy, even if it achieved the goal of virtually filling the house.

That house was shaking after the first round when Tyson and Botha continued both wrestling and fighting long after the closing bell. There was danger in the air for more than a few seconds, although the 20 or so security officers and Nevada commission personnel who intervened were able to restore order.

Any sort of riot and Tyson's Las Vegas career would have been over.

What was over was his reliance on the strategy outlined by his new trainer, Tommy Brooks. While Tyson opened the fight with three Brooks-inspired jabs, he reverted to his slugging ways almost immediately and never again showed any signs of having spent six weeks with Brooks.

Predictably, Brooks failed to acknowledge the obvious after the fight was over, yet he had to be disappointed in some respects.

But even more disappointed -- and willing to say so -- was Botha's trainer, Panama Lewis. Exiled to a seat five rows back due to his lifetime suspension from actively working a man's corner, Lewis was taken aback when Botha fell into a pattern of lowering his hands and taunting Tyson.

Even with Botha winning the fight, that looked like a huge mistake. And it was.

"I don't know why he did that," Lewis said. "I mean, I know why he did it, but I wish he wouldn't have."

In retrospect, so does Botha.

"I started fooling around too much," he said. "I really got careless. I got too cocky and I paid for it."

Things were going so well for Botha, he became audacious. Then Tyson caught him square with a beautiful punch and the fight was over.

"I knew the time would come when I could hit him clean," Tyson said. "It was just a matter of when."

The decisive ending was just what Nevada State Athletic Commission executive director Marc Ratner was counting on earlier in the day when he said "All I'm asking for is that if there's a stoppage, it's a definitive stoppage."

He wanted to keep his referee, Richard Steele, from being linked with the outcome and he got his wish.

Brooks and Lewis didn't get theirs, but, really, that's typical in a worldly sense where even the best of plans runs the risk of being scuttled when tempers flare.

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