We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Tyson’s behavior sullied boxing’s always precarious reputation, making the sport synonymous with freakishness. He would be the last in a long line of heavyweights to bear a symbolic connection to American social trends. For just as the blustery John L. Sullivan represented a growing nation coming into its strength, and the magnetic Dempsey the birth of mass-media celebrity and commercial culture, and the stoic Louis the hard years of depression and war, and the mercurial Ali the age of rebellion and change, so Tyson embodied the postmodern hoodlum—the gangsta from an urban landscape pulverized by fatherlessness and anomie. Remarkably, a middle-aged Tyson is now trying to remake his life, a feat that, given the obstacles, would outstrip anything that his illustrious predecessors achieved, in the ring or out.
Early in his career, Tyson was firmly under the control of Cus D'Amato - his adopted father. He trained hard and was polite in public. He was also unbeatable in the ring. The most dominant fighter I've ever seen.
After Cus died, the crazy undisciplined Tyson emerged. The reform school orphan thug took over - and he started losing fights.
Now retired in his mid-40's, Tyson seems to have finally learned the hard way what D'Amato tried to teach him 25 years ago.
D'Amato was a big, big part of Floyd Patterson's great career. D'Amato let Patterson's athletic strong points run --resulting in the unorthodox 'peekaboo' style which included the 'leapin' left hook' that made FP heavyweight champ.
A confirmation of the post thesis: my dad, born in a small Texas village of conservative Norwegian immigrant farmers a few days after Jack Dempsey took the title from Jess Willard in a big July 4th national event in faraway Toledo, Ohio, was promptly and improbably named 'Jack' --after Jack Dempsy.
Here's a famous photo of the action. Dempsey, half a foot shorter and 75 lbs lighter than Willard, trained by among other things doing a lot of north woods tree-felling with an axe. It shows.