Tyson v Golota: Fight night becomes fright night

When this weekend's Mike Tyson-Andrew Golota fight was made, Jay Larkin, the witty paymaster of Showtime television, said, "No ring, no judges - just a cage and three psychiatrists." The fight is in Detroit. Broadmoor would do just as well.

When this weekend's Mike Tyson-Andrew Golota fight was made, Jay Larkin, the witty paymaster of Showtime television, said, "No ring, no judges - just a cage and three psychiatrists." The fight is in Detroit. Broadmoor would do just as well.

I've seen Golota fight twice, and Tyson enough times to fuel a thousand nightmares. If you could convert psychological instability into nitro-glycerine you'd have enough to relocate Detroit on the other side of Lake Erie. Golota fought brilliantly for a time when I first saw him in his second fight with Riddick Bowe, but the result was the same as the first collision which ended in a riot in Madison Square Garden. Golota was disqualified for low blows.

His trainer, Lou Duva, said: "Go away and don't come back until you've found your head." Duva also advised Bowe to go straight to the hospital. The former world champion was slurring his words very badly.

Golota had truly wrecked him. The next time I saw Golota he surrendered to Lennox Lewis.

Tyson doesn't know how to surrender. He doesn't really know how to fight any more. But he can play the most murderous mind games. His worst , or best, performance in this area came when he held up Tyrell Biggs in Atlantic City for a few rounds, and then gloated: "He screamed like a girl."

A cage and three psychiatrist is all very well, but what about the exorcist?