By: Will Johnson

It seems to me, as of this date, January 2, 2006, that the most resounding bee-like buzz resonating through the world of boxing is the hype and overall critical and commercial success of “Rocky Balboa.”

Those of us who know boxing have been repeating the same qualifying and oddly self-defensive refrain for years now: “Yeah, you know, none of that ‘Rocky’ stuff could ever really happen in a real prizefight, you know!” etc. But no matter, us boxing nuts love those loud films in the same way a NASCAR groupie loves an unrealistic popcorn flick like “Days of Thunder.”

These farfetched but poignant and inspiring films do a lot for the sport and are, in fact, threaded with enough realistic components to make the films – with the slightest suspension of disbelief – more than just watchable. In “Rocky Balboa”, both fighters, but Rocky in particular, are goaded into a fight by a hypothetical computer match-up.

If there is one spiritual bond, one pastime that bonds all serious boxing fans together, it is arguing – often passionately and obstinately – in favor of one historical favorite fighter over another. In other words, we all love to discuss and argue hypothetical match-ups.

Among some of my closest friends, there is one particular fantasy match-up, one hypothetical fight between legends which, without fail, progresses to a heated verbal battle of memorized stats and potential variables; this hypo-match is a match between two of history’s most recognizable fighters: Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson.

It’s not because I was a child of the 80s that, during these discussions, I unwaveringly throw in my lot with Iron Mike Tyson. It is because even if I were completely objective and unbiased, I would still pick Mike Tyson to win 12 times a week and 4 times on Sunday.

This opinion of mine is controversial, unpopular and – among some fans – even considered heretical! A crime against boxing itself!
So, please allow me to make my case: Invariably, the first argument that is attempted against me is that Ali defeated several heavy punchers.

But who? Sonny Liston? Tyson has been compared to Sonny Liston many times, but Tyson was superior to Liston in speed, reflexes, defense and, most importantly, aggression.

Not only that, but it is very possible one or both Ali-Liston fights were fixed. Who else? George Foreman? Foreman was not even half as explosive as Liston. George Foreman was, indeed, that plodding “mummy” with nothing in his toolbox but a devastating punch. Ali was more than clever enough to muddle and outsmart a fighter as plodding, slow-witted and heavy-handed as George Foreman.

Joe Frazier was not as big or powerful as Liston or Foreman, but he was, pound for pound – despite his humiliating KO by Foreman – a much better fighter than either Liston or Foreman. He was tough, durable, and a good brawler, but he was not as deadly as Tyson. Tyson was perhaps not as hearty as Frazier, but he was faster, more aggressive and he had a much more damaging punch.

Tyson was superior to all three of the above cited examples. Tyson in his prime, of course, was a perfect synthesis of several notable boxers. He had the punch of a Foreman or Liston; the speed and natural reflexes of Ali himself; the aggressiveness of Dempsey; maybe even the tenacity of a Marciano.

Other than being fast, “The Greatest’s” greatest gift was that he was smart, a veritable pugilistic psychologist of sorts. But none of his cleverness or strategy would have done him a bit of good against Tyson’s early relentless intensity.

Tyson would have simply overwhelmed him – simple as a fact, Jack. Like Michael Spinks, all of Ali’s strategy would have been out the window within the first half of the first round. He would not have been able to dance, clinch, or even trick a prime Tyson. The intensity of Tyson in his early days was just too much for any fighter to wait for his strategic plan to slowly materialize.

Now that blasphemy is on the table, allow me to apologize for my own offense by paraphrasing Apollo from “Rocky III”: Tyson fights great, but Ali is a great fighter.

Tyson was a better fighter, but Muhammad Ali is still the greatest. A man who loved to fight and was born to fight; a fighter’s fighter. He lasted longer; fought harder; was better to the sport; and was responsible for man more sentimental collective memories than Mike Tyson, a character who, unfairly, has been largely perceived as a villain.

Although, like Jimmy Conway from “GoodFellas”, I always root for the bad guy (Ali is way too commercial now), that has nothing to do with my opinion. I’m as objective as that computer from “Rocky Balboa.” Sorry to say, but Tyson would have won.