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Memphis' reputation riding on Tyson-Lewis
By STEVE HUMMER
and MICHAEL CARVELL
Atlanta Journal-Constitution Staff Writer
Memphis -- Given his infamous and peculiar appetite, it is a little surprising Mike Tyson hasn't visited Silky O'Sullivans on honky-tonkin' Beale Street this week for the new taste sensation.
Reads the sign in the window, "Fight Special: Pig Ear Sandwich $5.50."
But Tyson has not yet stopped in for a bite. He has low-keyed it thus far, leaving this city just on the Tennessee side of the Mississippi River to revel in its new-won notoriety the best it can
The fight that Atlanta nor anyone else would touch with a fully-protected Hazmat Unit happens Saturday night in Memphis' glass-sided Pyramid. Heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis is scheduled to meet fallen champion Tyson in what has been billed the fight of this young millennium.
Memphis has embraced this bout, and by extension the volatile Tyson, as an economic shock treatment and promotional gold strike.
The memory of the Memphis in May celebration that drew huge crowds to Beale Street is less than a month old. And still, "This will surpass anything this street or this city has ever seen," said Kyle Sewell, who runs the Beale Street Visitors Center.
"Trust me on this: After June 8, the world and rest of the nation will know where Memphis is and what we represent," said John Oros, vice-president and chief operating officer of the city's Convention and Visitor's Bureau.
Just how it will end up representing Memphis is the question.
This was a fight so tarnished that not even Las Vegas would have it.
When promoters went shopping for another venue, Atlanta was at the top of the mix. But in stepped Gov. Roy Barnes, labeling the convicted rapist Tyson a "sexual predator," and demanding that the state boxing commission take the high road and block the fight. That was the death knell. The next day Tyson turned in his license to box in Georgia.
"I learned that I should've had Lennox Lewis come to Atlanta and announce that it was a 'Lennox Lewis fight,' and that way people wouldn't have been focusing as much on Tyson," said Tom Mishou, administrator for Georgia's five-man commission.
There were no such obstacles in pliant Tennessee. Memphis was coming off its highest unemployment rate (5.6 percent) since 1995. It had seen five clubs close down on Beale Street. Sept. 11 had stunted the tourist trade. It was no time to stand on principle.
Plus the mayor, Willie "Duke" Herenton, is a former Golden Gloves boxer who amassed a 60-3 record in seven years as an amateur. Now, his and his city's reputation rides on the Saturday night fight, its aftershocks, and Tyson's unpredictable nature.
Critics said that Memphis sold its soul the day it landed a fight muddier than the river that runs at its back door. Some even renamed the place Disgraceland.
The mayor didn't budge.
Herenton said he has received "some negative letters," but pointed out that there has been no organized resistance to the fight among the locals.
"I'm a calculated risk-taker," Herenton said. "It appeared to me that the rewards were enormous for Memphis from both an economic and marketing standpoint. Of course, the downside would be some inappropriate behavior [by Tyson] or negative publicity about our city.''
These have been relative boom times for sports in Memphis. In 2000, the city built a lovely new brick home downtown for the Triple A Redbirds, and the result has been record attendance. Last year, the NBA Grizzlies moved from Vancouver to here. The team pulled off a coup at the end of the season when it hired Jerry West as general manager. Then along comes Lewis-Tyson, with the design of furthering a big-league image.
When Lewis arrived late last week, he was paraded through town aboard a Hum-Vee. Tyson declined any such public display.
The streets are lined with banners and posters proudly proclaiming the coming of Lewis-Tyson. There is even a "Lewis-Tyson Is On" hospitality table at the airport to welcome fans to the city.
On Saturday, several celebrity-studded post-fight parties are scheduled for the Beale Street clubs, the biggest of which features Oscar winner Halle Berry and pro wrestler The Rock.
The money in mega-fights is said to be good, this one claiming a $50 million economic impact. Although initial reports of a sell-out in the 19,000-seat Pyramid were exaggerated. As of Wednesday, promoter Brian Young said more than 16,000 tickets scaled from $250 to $2,400 had been sold.
"Let me say this, I think Atlanta lost an opportunity," said Herenton, before pausing to soften the statement. "As far as all the cities that didn't get this fight are concerned. . . Memphis is happy to capture this event." "I'm not much of a boxing fan, but I'm for anything that brings in more people," said Ella Bankston, who runs the Memphis Music store on Beale. Boxing and the Blues don't seem like such an unlikely marriage.
The impact zone of this event extends 30 miles to the south to the 10 casinos in Tunica, Miss., without whose support the fight would not have happened here. Two of them paid for the right to officially host each fighter, although they only passed through for media opportunities. The closest the patrons could get to the combatants was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Lennox Lewis in the lobby of the Sam's Town Casino.
Closer to town, the city's largest tourist attraction is already entering its busy summer season. Upwards of 2,500 people visit Elvis Presley's Graceland mansion daily. "And we expect to see some increased traffic from people looking for something to do before the fight," said spokesman Bobby Davis.
Yes, the Heartbreak Hotel is booked up on fight weekend.
Of course, the former owner of the place is unable to weigh in on whether such an event belongs in his neighborhood. But remembering that Presley once played a boxer in the 1962 remake of "Kid Galahad," was a good friend of Muhammad Ali and was an eighth degree karate black belt, most believe The King would have given Lewis-Tyson his blessing.
By STEVE HUMMER
and MICHAEL CARVELL
Atlanta Journal-Constitution Staff Writer
Memphis -- Given his infamous and peculiar appetite, it is a little surprising Mike Tyson hasn't visited Silky O'Sullivans on honky-tonkin' Beale Street this week for the new taste sensation.
Reads the sign in the window, "Fight Special: Pig Ear Sandwich $5.50."
But Tyson has not yet stopped in for a bite. He has low-keyed it thus far, leaving this city just on the Tennessee side of the Mississippi River to revel in its new-won notoriety the best it can
The fight that Atlanta nor anyone else would touch with a fully-protected Hazmat Unit happens Saturday night in Memphis' glass-sided Pyramid. Heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis is scheduled to meet fallen champion Tyson in what has been billed the fight of this young millennium.
Memphis has embraced this bout, and by extension the volatile Tyson, as an economic shock treatment and promotional gold strike.
The memory of the Memphis in May celebration that drew huge crowds to Beale Street is less than a month old. And still, "This will surpass anything this street or this city has ever seen," said Kyle Sewell, who runs the Beale Street Visitors Center.
"Trust me on this: After June 8, the world and rest of the nation will know where Memphis is and what we represent," said John Oros, vice-president and chief operating officer of the city's Convention and Visitor's Bureau.
Just how it will end up representing Memphis is the question.
This was a fight so tarnished that not even Las Vegas would have it.
When promoters went shopping for another venue, Atlanta was at the top of the mix. But in stepped Gov. Roy Barnes, labeling the convicted rapist Tyson a "sexual predator," and demanding that the state boxing commission take the high road and block the fight. That was the death knell. The next day Tyson turned in his license to box in Georgia.
"I learned that I should've had Lennox Lewis come to Atlanta and announce that it was a 'Lennox Lewis fight,' and that way people wouldn't have been focusing as much on Tyson," said Tom Mishou, administrator for Georgia's five-man commission.
There were no such obstacles in pliant Tennessee. Memphis was coming off its highest unemployment rate (5.6 percent) since 1995. It had seen five clubs close down on Beale Street. Sept. 11 had stunted the tourist trade. It was no time to stand on principle.
Plus the mayor, Willie "Duke" Herenton, is a former Golden Gloves boxer who amassed a 60-3 record in seven years as an amateur. Now, his and his city's reputation rides on the Saturday night fight, its aftershocks, and Tyson's unpredictable nature.
Critics said that Memphis sold its soul the day it landed a fight muddier than the river that runs at its back door. Some even renamed the place Disgraceland.
The mayor didn't budge.
Herenton said he has received "some negative letters," but pointed out that there has been no organized resistance to the fight among the locals.
"I'm a calculated risk-taker," Herenton said. "It appeared to me that the rewards were enormous for Memphis from both an economic and marketing standpoint. Of course, the downside would be some inappropriate behavior [by Tyson] or negative publicity about our city.''
These have been relative boom times for sports in Memphis. In 2000, the city built a lovely new brick home downtown for the Triple A Redbirds, and the result has been record attendance. Last year, the NBA Grizzlies moved from Vancouver to here. The team pulled off a coup at the end of the season when it hired Jerry West as general manager. Then along comes Lewis-Tyson, with the design of furthering a big-league image.
When Lewis arrived late last week, he was paraded through town aboard a Hum-Vee. Tyson declined any such public display.
The streets are lined with banners and posters proudly proclaiming the coming of Lewis-Tyson. There is even a "Lewis-Tyson Is On" hospitality table at the airport to welcome fans to the city.
On Saturday, several celebrity-studded post-fight parties are scheduled for the Beale Street clubs, the biggest of which features Oscar winner Halle Berry and pro wrestler The Rock.
The money in mega-fights is said to be good, this one claiming a $50 million economic impact. Although initial reports of a sell-out in the 19,000-seat Pyramid were exaggerated. As of Wednesday, promoter Brian Young said more than 16,000 tickets scaled from $250 to $2,400 had been sold.
"Let me say this, I think Atlanta lost an opportunity," said Herenton, before pausing to soften the statement. "As far as all the cities that didn't get this fight are concerned. . . Memphis is happy to capture this event." "I'm not much of a boxing fan, but I'm for anything that brings in more people," said Ella Bankston, who runs the Memphis Music store on Beale. Boxing and the Blues don't seem like such an unlikely marriage.
The impact zone of this event extends 30 miles to the south to the 10 casinos in Tunica, Miss., without whose support the fight would not have happened here. Two of them paid for the right to officially host each fighter, although they only passed through for media opportunities. The closest the patrons could get to the combatants was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Lennox Lewis in the lobby of the Sam's Town Casino.
Closer to town, the city's largest tourist attraction is already entering its busy summer season. Upwards of 2,500 people visit Elvis Presley's Graceland mansion daily. "And we expect to see some increased traffic from people looking for something to do before the fight," said spokesman Bobby Davis.
Yes, the Heartbreak Hotel is booked up on fight weekend.
Of course, the former owner of the place is unable to weigh in on whether such an event belongs in his neighborhood. But remembering that Presley once played a boxer in the 1962 remake of "Kid Galahad," was a good friend of Muhammad Ali and was an eighth degree karate black belt, most believe The King would have given Lewis-Tyson his blessing.
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