Tyson-Tarver: A match made in Hollywood

By Elliot Worsell: When Hollywood actors Robert DeNiro, Daniel Day-Lewis and Will Smith all slipped into their various pugilist character forms for motion pictures, they exuded a sense of authenticity. So much so that their mentors - often ex-professional prizefighters - hinted that the method actors could have swapped the glitz of the movie world for the blood and guts of the ring, should they have chosen.

DeNiro experienced a handful of amateur bouts in preparation for his role as Jake LaMotta in 'Raging Bull', prompting LaMotta to say: "There's no doubt he could have been a pro."

The dizzying experience of portraying a big-name fighter on-screen clearly rubs off. If you're professional light-heavyweight champion Antonio Tarver - though merely dipping toes in acting waters - the effect's the same. There's no inclination of a career-swap, however, merely aspirations of a career-parallel with his on-screen persona.

In 'Rocky 6' - full title, 'Rocky Balboa' - Tarver is contracted to play Sylvester Stallone's heavyweight nemesis Mason Dixon, and is revelling in the experience. The strict 175 lber has let his weight go, cast thoughts of light-heavyweight rivals Roy Jones, Jr. and Glen Johnson to the back of his mind, and mingled in different circles.

He's also talking Mike Tyson a great deal. The most Hollywood fighter of them all. A box-office-smashing, cranium-cracking star whom Tarver can only dream of emulating in terms of name-association. Tyson's the kind of attraction that will never reside in Tarver's shallow light-heavyweight pool.

Mason Dixon - better know as Antonio Tarver - is deadly serious about Tyson and deadly serious about a change of scenery. Unlike DeNiro, Day-Lewis and Smith, Tarver isn't dreaming of changing jobs - merely weight divisions.

Though a financially-rewarding decision and one that would - dependent on his success - command respect from some quarters, the pending move is as bizarre as some of Tyson's infamous ring antics. After all, despite Tyson's box office appeal, the once invincible 'Baddest Man On The Planet' has suffered two back-to-back defeats against journeymen/fringe-type heavyweights in recent times. He's bad no more. Infact, he lost his badness years ago.

It's taken a while for the boxing firmament and sports fans in general to come to terms with Tyson's evaporation, but finally it appears the sight of the once 'Iron' Mike slumped to the canvas is sticking. Even the Tyson believers no longer believe.

Against Briton Danny Williams he folded, was bullied out of it, and eventually brushed aside. Against Kevin McBride, however - a rung even further down the journeyman ladder - Tyson cut a forlorn, sad figure in simply falling to the floor - unaided - and refusing to get up. No physical punch landed. Tyson's fall merely marked the pummelling of the psychological blows he has taken in his 39 years.

Nowadays, Tyson's not even a boxing fan. He hates the sport and everything about it. This once great student of the noble art - who could cite Rocky Marciano and Joe Louis as genuine role models and had the homework and grades to prove it - has now fallen out of love with the sport. He no longer whacks the heavy bag and emulates his heroes of yesteryear. He doesn't work on their moves - he doesn't practice their snarls or demeanour.

He works out with the emphasis fully on work. He rattles the speedball and counts down the days until his purse is handed over post-fight. Mike Tyson's no longer fighting for his legacy, or even his love of the art.

Tyson divorced the sport long ago. In the weeks leading up to the Danny Williams shocker, Tyson couldn't even name the current heavyweight beltholders. For a casual fan of the sport - that fact isn't particularly striking - but for a man supposedly gunning for them, and a man who could name all the heavyweight contenders of the 50's and 60's, it was a worrying indictment of his mindset and enthusiasm. At present Tyson knows of only two rival opponents - dollars and notoriety. He uses one to make the other.

He wouldn't have known of Tarver, either. Which is ultimately what perturbs the textbook southpaw from Tampa, Florida. As talented as he is, and as much as he garners respect for his standing at 175 lbs, there will always be a craving for more - a next level. Tarver, without light-heavyweight great Roy Jones, Jr. in tandem, isn't the same commodity he is when verbally lashing his Pensacola rival pre-fight.

One of the genuine personalities of the sport, Tarver needs a fellow character - be it through reputation or soundbite - to whet his appetite. Without it, he's a 37-year-old light-heavyweight with Glen Johnson, and a splattering of decent but unappealing European contenders to namecheck as rivals.

When 'Rocky 6' hits the screens in the next year or so, Mason Dixon will leave Antonio Tarver in his wake. Dixon will become bigger than Tarver. Perhaps only in the short term, but the heavyweight Dixon - with Balboa alongside - will capture the public's imagination.

Something Tarver looks to emulate with Tyson then. Mike, like Balboa, shouldn't be boxing anymore, and like the 'Stallion' garners attention for even the most implausible comebacks. Tarver knows it, too. For what other reason would the man who twice beat Jones, Jr. track a battle-worn Tyson 30 pounds above his natural weight?

For Tarver, a bout with Tyson wouldn't even be about legacy. Tyson's no longer relevant in that respect. Despite Antonio Tarver's reputation as a 175 lber, the fact that Tyson has wallowed against Williams and McBride and almost been neglected as a potential force by those that created him; means a Tarver win over Tyson does little.

To some - given the weight difference - it would come as a surprise, but then the Williams and McBride debacles would be quickly remembered and referenced.

Tarver cannot possibly enhance anything but his pocket in tackling a tired and bored Tyson. His reputation has been carved at light-heavyweight and, despite the state of the heavyweight landscape, it would appear unlikely - even in beating Tyson - a light-heavy at 37 can create a niche. Tarver's trip to heavyweight wouldn't earmark any kind of new beginning for Antonio at heavyweight. It wouldn't even acquire the same accolades rained upon rival Jones, Jr. when he climbed the weights to dethrone WBA titlist John Ruiz in March 2003.

Tarver would merely be beating a man who has grown accustomed to getting beaten. And more pivotally, a man whose supporters have grown accustomed to seeing lose. A man who formerly thrived on his aura of invincibility, but has now been shattered by modest 'comeback' opponents. Tarver, despite his glorious standing at light-heavy, would be deemed just another 'comeback' opponent by the masses. The numbers wouldn't arrive to see Tarver or even Mason Dixon. It would still all be about Tyson.

It's a risky ploy from Tarver, too, given the weight difference. The obvious financial gains aside, Tarver's jump to heavyweight against one of the most explosive punchers the game has seen, could be career suicide. At 37, Tarver may feel the risk - given he's not got a great deal many fights left - is worth it.

It is incredibly dangerous, though. Tarver, a lanky six-footer who evens out nicely at 175 lbs in his championship days, would have to pack on 30-plus pounds in able to first, be deemed a heavyweight, and secondly, come close to matching the physical strength of Tyson. Though the 'Iron's recently rusted, Tyson is still a frightening physical specimen. And Tarver is no 265 lb Danny Williams or 271 lb Kevin McBride, either. He's a lean, patient, rangy southpaw who avoids ferocious exchanges and grappling where possible.

The style match-up, at any juncture of Tyson's tops-turvy 20-year career - is a dangerous one for Tarver. Therefore, the fact that little acclaim would pass his way should he hand Tyson his third straight setback, the risk seems a needless one. With as much ease as Tarver could conceivably frustrate Tyson, get him past four rounds, and then make him sit it out, Tarver could also be obliterated by a slowed down but still concussive Tyson bomb.

Intriguing, maybe - but for a man who supposedly carries the distinction of the world's leading light-heavyweight, the idea that he needs a smudged shadow of Mike Tyson to enhance his legacy is a depressing one.

There are light-heavyweights, and cruiserweights - the likes of Jean-Marc Mormeck and O'Neil Bell - who would challenge Tarver and hand him praise and respect should he conquer. Live fighters, at the peaks of their powers, who would play Frazier to Tarver's Ali.

They may not carry the appeal or currency of Tyson, but such challenges would enhance Tarver in other areas. Areas that Antonio appeared to be bolstering when disconnecting Jones, Jr. from his senses in May 2004.

Ultimately, money makes Tarver's and Tyson's worlds go round - and, given the graveness of their occupation, that's a given. Tarver can, however, do better without Tyson just like 'Iron Mike' can do better without Tarver and without boxing. As witnessed in his recent tour of the United Kingdom - retelling stories at dinner shows - Tyson can still entertain, without the use of gloves and false, hollow, bravado.

Tarver, likewise, can still entertain and progress, without the use of Tyson's growling, yet spiritless face to generate interest.

Unlike most actor-boxer combos from the past, Tarver's better than Mason Dixon.