by Mike Tyson
I was already dealing with a lot of emotions of guilt and shame for my recent relapses so seeing Teddy and making amends to him seemed to put me over the top. I realized that I couldn’t just keep on lying and pretending that I was still clean; that I hadn’t had some drinks or smoked some pot. So when someone at the postfight press conference asked me what it was like seeing Teddy again, I had to unburden myself.
“I knew that there was a possibility that I would be here with Teddy and I didn’t have a good thought in mind about that at first, because I’m negative and I’m dark. And I wanna do bad stuff. I wanna hang out in this neighborhood alone [I pointed to my head], that’s dangerous to hang out in this neighborhood alone up here, right? It wants to kill everything. It wants to kill me too. So I went to my A.A. meeting and I explained to my fellow alcoholics and junkies that I was gonna deal with this certain situation here, and I explained the feelings that I evoked from it. Almost like, um, something like a Hatfields and McCoys, I kind of explained to them. I made the right decision. I made Cus proud of me. I made myself proud of me.
“I hate myself. I’m trying to kill myself. I hate myself a lot, but I made myself proud of myself, and I don’t do that much. I was happy I did that. Maybe it was overwhelming to Teddy and he didn’t get it yet. But he has to know this is sincere. I don’t wanna fight you no more. I was wrong. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I just wanted to make my amends. If he accepted it or not, at least I could die and go to my grave and say I made my amends with everybody I hurt. It’s all about love and forgiveness, and in order for those guys to forgive me – other guys – you know, I want people to forgive the things I’ve done.
“I’m a motherfucker. I did a lot of bad things, and I want to be forgiven. So in order for me to be forgiven, I hope they can forgive me. I wanna change my life; I wanna live a different life now. I wanna live my sober life. I don’t wanna die. I’m on the verge of dying, because I’m a vicious alcoholic. Wow. God, this is some interesting stuff.”
I choked up. And then I confessed.
“I haven’t drank or took drugs in six days, and for me that’s a miracle. I’ve been lying to everybody else that thinks I was sober. I’m not. This is my sixth day. I’m never gonna use again.”
The press in the audience gave me a standing ovation but that meant nothing to me. No one gives you standing ovations when you share in the rooms.
That was on August twenty-third. I’ve added a few days to my total as I’m writing this now. I hope that I can keep clean and add more and more days and get more and more chips. I guess I was arrogant thinking that I could beat this thing without the help of my support team and my A.A. family, who belong to the only club that accepts people like me as members. I don’t want to die. I want to continue my boxing career as a promoter. I want to do my one-man show again. I want to do more movies.
After my recent relapse I was no fun to be around. Kiki and I were having a lot of rough times. Part of me was even trying to blame the pressures of being married as the reason for my relapse. Then the galleys for the book came. In going over the book with Kiki I had a spiritual rebirth. When we got to the section about Exodus it was very difficult to get through. We both cried our eyes out. And I realized in that very moment why I was married to Kiki. I suddenly knew the answer to the question “Why would a guy like me be married?” I realized that our marriage was more than the union of Kiki and me. I had to be married to Kiki to fulfill Exodus’s legacy. My marriage will allow me to do that and to bolster my ability to be a good father. I’m a better person now because Exodus was in my life and I vow to continue to be a better person now that she’s gone. I truly want to deepen my relationship with Kiki and see my kids grow up to be healthy and happy. But I can’t do any of those things if I don’t have control over myself. I can’t help anyone if I’m not well myself, and I desperately want to get well. I have a lot of pain and I just want to heal. And I’m going to do my best to do just that. One day at a time.
There are two words that I frequently use in this book that deserve a bit of explanation. One of them is “nigga.” This word gained widespread traction in the younger black community through its use by early hip hop and rap artists such as Grandmaster Flash, N.W.A., Tupac, and Ol’ Dirty Bastard, as well as comedians such as Paul Mooney and Chris Rock. Whether I use the term pejoratively or endearingly depends on the context. I’m as apt to say “Fuck that nigga, I hate him” as I am to say “I love this nigga, I’d die for him.” And I do not use the term exclusively to denote people of color. Back in Brownsville, we’d often say, “Man, those big old white stupid Italian niggas, they’re trying to play me.” Later in my life, after I’d meet with HBO or Showtime executives to discuss my fights, I’d say, “Fuck them niggas.” “What the fuck are you talking about? Those are Jews,” one of my friends would say. “No, they are niggas. A nigga is a state of mind.”
While “nigga” can be used in both a positive and negative fashion, when you combine “nigga” with “shit” it can only be seen as a condemnation. For example, a friend of yours may have several fine ladies that he wishes to have fun with. He may ask a few of your friends to participate in the party but you are required by him to watch the door, effectively excluding you from the social intercourse. That is known as “nigga shit” – behavior characteristic of a selfish, no good motherfucker.
The other word that needs explanation is the term “smuck.” My collaborator, Larry “Ratso” Sloman, is of the Jewish persuasion. After hearing me say “smuck” a few times, Ratso was quick to point out that I was mispronouncing the Yiddish word “schmuck.” “Schmuck” originally meant penis, but its meaning was broadened to denote someone who was foolish or, in extreme cases, contemptible or detestable. In some Jewish homes, the word “schmuck” was thought to be so vulgar that it was actually taboo. After being corrected a few times, I informed Ratso that I had coined the term “smuck” quite properly. In my usage, a “smuck” is half a “schmuck.” By preceding “smuck” with the “shhhh” you are, in fact, giving that contemptible person too much credit. A schmuck is a schmuck, but a smuck is not even worthy of schmuck status. In this book, I use both words advisedly.
MIKE WOULD LIKE TO THANK:
Cus D’Amato, my mentor, friend, and general. Because of you, my life has reached heights I could never have imagined. Without you, I don’t know where I would be today. My gratitude to you is immeasurable. As long as I am breathing, your legacy will continue to live on. Our names are forever synonymous. You can’t mention my name without a reference to your legacy nor can people mention your name without a reference to my legacy.
I would like to give a very special thanks to my collaborator, Larry “Ratso” Sloman, for being such a cool “cat.” (That’s Larry’s favorite word. I had to edit many of them out of the manuscript.) This entire process wasn’t necessarily easy for me. At times it was very difficult to rehash some of the darker moments in my life. Larry, you have been the fly on the wall that at times I wanted to smash, but you knew how to buzz off and fly back around when the moment was better for me. I am grateful for your patience and diligence. You really know how to roll with the punches. I don’t think there is another writer around that could have done a better job. When it comes to writing, you are “The Baddest Man on the Planet.” You’re more than just a writer to me, you’re family. Looking forward to working on many other projects with you in the near future.
Thank you to David Vigliano at Vigliano Associates for coordinating everything. David, you are a great person. You’re more than just a book agent. I consider you a friend.
Thank you to David Rosenthal, publisher of Blue Rider Press, for your patience and enthusiasm for this project. I’m really grateful that you believed in the vision and have supported it 100 percent.
I would also like to thank my legal team at Grubman Indursky Shire & Meiselas, P.C., in particular Kenny Meiselas for putting together such an incredible legal team. Thank you, Jonathan Ehrlich, for combing through the co
ntracts with a fine-tooth comb.
Thank you to Damon Bingham and Harlan Werner for the initial introduction to Vigliano Associates.
My deepest love and gratitude to my friends, family, and supporters for taking time out of their busy lives to share stories with Ratso.
A very special acknowledgment to my children: Mikey, Gena, Rayna, Amir, Miguel, Milan, and Morocco. Everything I do is for you all. I love you, Exodus Sierra Tyson. You are my eternal Angel. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. The four years I shared with you on this planet were the best of my life. You will never be forgotten.
Finally, to my dear wife, Kiki – thank you for your unconditional love and support and putting up with me. I know it’s not always easy, but I am very appreciative of everything you do. I love you.
LARRY WOULD LIKE TO THANK:
Michael Gerard Tyson. To say this project has been a labor of love would be an understatement. I’ve been wanting to work with Mike since 1994, right after Private Parts, my collaboration with Howard Stern, was published. For me, Mike was one of the most interesting cultural figures on the scene and I felt that his story would be illuminating and moving. While Mike was incarcerated in Indiana, I sent him a copy of Nietzsche’s autobiography, Ecce Homo, and proposed we work together on a memoir.
In 2008, thanks to the recommendation of his then-agent, Harlan Werner, and Dr. Monica Turner, his ex-wife, Mike chose me to be his collaborator. As you’ve read in this book, that time was not propitious for Mike to work on a book, and the project was postponed. Four years later, Mike was in a much better place, and we began.
Working with Mike was the most unusual and gratifying experience I’d had in my career as a celebrity chronicler. As the whole world knows, he’s painfully honest and incredibly sensitive. When certain topics came up in our talks – his childhood or the role of Cus D’Amato, his mentor, are two prime examples – Mike would tear up and sometimes sob uncontrollably. On the other hand, in the middle of relating his favorite stories, he would jump up, do a little dance around the room, and then come back and slap me five. I’ve probably been slapped five more times by Mike Tyson than anybody else on the planet and lived to tell the tale. The man doesn’t know his own strength.
Mike is not the kind of guy to sit down and calmly relate stories from his life. I taped conversations with him in his garage with his mating pigeons cooing in the background, in the back room of the barbershop he hangs out in in north Vegas, in the passenger seat of his Escalade on the way to picking up his daughter from school, and in the Salvatore Ferragamo shop at Caesars in Vegas while he tried on shirts. I carried around my Casio tape recorder 24/7 because I never knew when he would suddenly have an incredible insight into Cus or remember a story from his childhood that was spellbinding.
I spent months in Vegas at Mike’s house, taping our talks, going over his massive legal files, and interviewing some of his closest associates. It’s not easy and not always fun being away from home for so long, but I was adopted by two families in Vegas, both of whom made my life considerably more pleasant.
First, I have to give thanks to Mike’s wonderful family. His wife, Kiki, is a spectacular helpmate to Mike, and you wouldn’t be reading this book right now if not for her. Mike’s mother-in-law, Rita; Kiki’s brother Azheem and his wife, Jahira; and Mike’s oldest daughter, Mikey, were always there to nurture me, feed me, and console me when Mike was more interested in shopping than talking. Mike’s assistant, David Barnes, aka Wayno aka Farid, was always helpful and ready to go the extra mile. And Mike’s two young children, Milan and Rocco, were always a source of much joy and mirth.
I had a second family in Vegas. While I was working with Mike, I stayed at the Slammer, the amazing home of my dear friend Penn Jillette. Penn; his wife, Emily Zolten; and his two children, his daughter, Moxie, and his son, Zolten, were the most gracious of hosts. At night, if I got bored, I went to see Penn and Teller perform. When I wanted to watch a grade-C movie, Penn and Emily’s movie nights in the home theater were always a most welcome and riotous diversion.
I’m indebted to all of Mike’s wonderful friends and colleagues who took the time out of their busy schedules to do interviews with me. Thanks to Brian Hamill, Craig Boogie, Calvin Hollins, Eric “EB” Brown, David Chesnoff, Steve “Crocodile” Fitch, David Malone, Frankie Mincieli, Jeff Greene, Hope Hundley, Jackie Rowe, Jay Bright, Lance Sherman, Latondia Lawson, Steve Lott, Mack Smith, Marilyn Murray, Mario Costa, Mark D’Attilio, Darryl Francis, Anthony Pitts, Michael Politz, Rick Bowers, Rodney Tyson, Sean MacFarland, Muhammad Siddeeq, Tom Patti, Tony Anderson, Damon Bingham, Jim Voyles, and Jeff Wald. We’re also indebted to a man we never met but we heard. Early in the project Mike played me hours and hours of tapes of Cus and Cus’s friends and colleagues talking to a young journalist in Catskill named Paul Zuckerman. These interviews were a great resource in getting into the head of Cus at the time when Mike had just come into his life. We tried to track down Zuckerman, to no avail. But hopefully his insights into Cus and his adroit interviews will someday see the light of day.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to David Rosenthal, publisher extraordinaire, for his infinite patience and levelheaded wisdom. Thanks also to everyone up at Blue Rider Press, especially editor Vanessa Kehren. Also at Blue Rider, special thanks to Aileen Boyle, Sarah Hochman, Gregg Kulick, Phoebe Pickering, Brian Ulicky, Joe Benincase, Meredith Dros, Linda Rosenberg, Rob Sternitzky, and Eliza Rosenberry.
I’m always grateful to my wonderful agent, David Vigliano, for his persistence and counsel and to his associate Matthew Carlini for navigating all the foreign editions of this work.
It wouldn’t be a Mike Tyson book without thanking some lawyers. My longtime lawyer, the late Laurie Rockett, carved out our initial agreement in 2008. Eric Rayman came on board in 2012 and worked his magic when the project was revived. And Linda Cowen did a fine job reviewing the manuscript for the publisher. And much thanks, as ever, to my attorney Charles DeStefano, who’s always there for me.
Thanks always to the greatest transcriber around, Jill Matheson, for sacrificing body and soul to make the deadline. I’m also indebted to Zachary Zimmerman for his conscientious research work. No problem was too hard for him to surf the ’Net and solve.
And finally I’m always indebted to my number-one family, Christy Smith-Sloman and Lucy. They weathered Hurricane Sandy and ate peanut butter and jelly (or, in the case of Lucy, Newman’s Own Peanut Butter Dog Treats) by candlelight while I was working thousands of miles away. Christy is always supportive of my works and my quirks and I’m eternally grateful for her love. And as long as those treats keep coming, Lucy’s in my corner too.
Mike Tyson is the former undisputed heavyweight champion of the world, and the first boxer to ever hold the three biggest belts in prizefighting – the WBC, WBA, and IBF world heavyweight titles – simultaneously. Tyson’s enduring appeal has launched him into a career in entertainment: He was a standout in the blockbuster films The Hangover and The Hangover Part II, and recently he has earned tremendous acclaim for his one-man show Tyson – The Undisputed Truth. Tyson has launched a clothing company (Mike Tyson Collection) and Tyrrhanic Productions, which currently has several film projects in development. In 2011, Tyson was inducted into the Boxing Hall of Fame. He lives in Las Vegas with his wife, Kiki, and their children.
Larry “Ratso” Sloman is best known as Howard Stern’s collaborator on Private Parts and Miss America. Sloman’s recent collaborations include The Secret Life of Houdini, with magic theorist William Kalush; Mysterious Stranger with magician David Blaine; Makeup to Breakup: My Life In and Out of Kiss with drummer Peter Criss; and Scar Tissue, the memoir of Red Hot Chili Peppers lead singer Anthony Kiedis. All six books were New York Times best sellers.
Images 1 and 2 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson; Image 3 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las Vegas; Image 4 © Ken Regan; Image 5 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las Vegas; Images 6 and 7 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las V
egas; Image 8 © Ken Regan; Image 9 © Ken Regan; Image 10 © Lori Grinker/Contact Press Images; Image 11 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las Vegas; Image 12 © Lori Grinker/Contact Press Images; Image 13 © Richard Harbus/Bettmann/Corbis; Image 14 © AFP/Getty Images; Image 15 © Ken Regan; Image 16 © Charlie Blagdon/Bettmann/Corbis; Image 17 © Bettmann/Corbis; Images 18 and 19 © Bettmann/Corbis; Image 20 © Lori Grinker/Contact Press Images; Image 21 © Bettmann/Corbis; Images 22 and 23 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las Vegas; Images 24 and 25 © The Ring magazine/Getty Images; Image 26 © Steve Lott/Boxing Hall of Fame Las Vegas; Image 27 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson; Image 28 © The Ring magazine/Getty Images; Image 29 © Misha Erwitt/New York Daily News Archive via Getty Images; Image 30 © Anthony Barboza/Getty Images; Image 31 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson; Image 32 © Eugene Garcia/AFP/Getty Images; Image 33 © John Ruthroff/AFP/Getty Images; Image 34 © Lennox McLendon/Associated Press; Image 35 © Jeff Haynes/AFP/Getty Images; Image 36 © Mike Nelson/AFP/Getty Images; Images 37 and 38 © Jeff Haynes/AFP/Getty Images; Image 39 © Neil Leifer/Sports Illustrated/Getty Images; Images 40 and 42 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson; Image 41 © Jerry Metellus; Image 43 © Trae Patton/NBCU Photo Bank; Image 44 © AFP/Getty Images; Image 45 courtesy of Marilyn Murray; Images 46, 47 and 48 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson; Image 51 © Jerry Metellus; Images 49, 50 and 52 courtesy of Mike and Kiki Tyson
My father, Jimmy “Curlee” Kirkpatrick Jr.
My mother, Lorna Mae.