MIKE TYSON spent a good part of last weekend in a Phoenix strip club.
Now, he is on the island paradise of Maui.
He is supposed to be preparing for the absolute last chance of a life that has been full of last chances.
But he still has no real trainer.
No wonder there are fight people who believe Mo Vaughn will land a Jenny Craig commercial before the Tyson-Lewis fight-scheduled for June 8 in Memphis – actually happens.
Monday, a Phoenix “exotic dancer” alleged that Tyson used her and her boyfriend for some exotic sparring in the early hours of Sunday morning.
“Patently false,” said Darrow Soll, Tyson’s very busy criminal lawyer.
Phoenix police are investigating.
But one fact remains without dispute.
Two months removed from the biggest fight of his life, Mike Tyson was somewhere a man in his position probably ought not be.
Is this any way to prepare? Only if your name is Mike Tyson.
From the promoters to the cable TV execs, everyone is taking this fight very, very seriously.
With the possible exception of Mike Tyson.
Twelve years ago, Roberto Duran – a professed idol of Tyson’s – took refuge on a Carribean island used as a prison camp to prepare for his own absolute, final chance against Iran Barkley.
He emerged a lean, mean, alcohol-deprived and sexually-frustrated fighting machine – and won the fight.
Maui, of course, is no prison camp. No doubt the name Don Ho has deep appeal for Tyson. But too much Hawaiian punch and Tyson will get lei’d out.
That would be a waste, because this could and should be a very winnable fight for Tyson.
It all depends on how much he wants it.
After all, there is only one sure way to beat Lewis. Hit him.
That, Tyson can still do.
But who will make him do the other things necessary to win a fight like this? Things like roadwork and pad drills, and playing defense and practicing self-discipline?
Right now, his training camp is in the hands of Stacey McKinley, a professional bucket-carrier, and Jay Bright, who as a trainer, is a very good camp pastry chef.
In fact, Teddy Atlas once observed that Bright should work the corner wearing not rubber gloves, but potholders.
If Tyson really wants to beat Lewis, he’ll hire a solid professional to run his training camp.
Problem is, there is a decided shortage of candidates for Tyson to choose from.
Boxing’s best trainer, Emanuel Steward, will be in the other corner.
Atlas, the runner-up, probably blew his shot when he put a loaded gun to Tyson’s head up in the Catskills 20 years ago.
Kevin Rooney is more washed-up than Tyson. Gil Clancy and Angelo Dundee are too old. Eddie Futch, alas, is dead.
And Tyson has already used and abused Tommy Brooks, who deserved better.
That leaves Floyd Mayweather Sr., who suddenly finds himself with nothing to do now that Oscar De La Hoya has decided to take the summer off, and Ronnie Shields, who trains Vernon Forrest, as the best and most logical applicants.
Mayweather and Tyson have something in common – after all, Mayweather recently did a five-year stretch himself-but Shields has got the goods.
He took the gangly, green Forrest and turned him into Sugar Shane Mosley’s worst nightmare.
He could do the same for Tyson against Lewis.
Even for a guy like Shields, there is probably too much work to be done in too little time.
The pay will never compensate for the hours, or the aggravation.
Tyson’s trainer must also act as his babysitter. As well as his father, confessor, his shrink and his parole officer.
Ronnie Shields can perform all those functions.
Plus, he can show Mike Tyson how to kick Lennox Lewis’ butt.
If Tyson really wants to beat Lewis, he will go in with Shields.
Otherwise, he will go out on one.