COMMENTARY : He’ll Be Known for Stomach, Not Heart

Buster Douglas--bigger than life, much bigger than life--fell with an awful thud Thursday night. Once the hope of every underdog, Douglas will now be remembered as a fluke, a fraud, a bloated myth. When his bubble burst, you could hear the sound for miles.

It was an awful thing to watch, Douglas lumbering into the ring, all 246 pounds drooping from every part of his body. You could see Evander Holyfield’s eyes go wide at the sight of this slow-moving, ponderous target.

This was the conqueror of Mike Tyson?

Well, no. They kept telling us you never knew which Douglas would show up on a given night, and the one we saw Thursday night was a guy who obviously got lost on the way to the 99-cent, all-day breakfast. This was the guy who lost to Mike White, to Jesse Ferguson.

Actually, Douglas gave away his title in favor of chicken necks, his meal of choice. With the heavyweight title and millions of dollars at stake, Douglas couldn’t make himself get up from the table. No wonder he couldn’t get up from the canvas, although it seemed that he might have struggled to his feet. Douglas, who has been accused of quitting, will hear the accusations again.

Was that February night in Tokyo when Douglas knocked out Tyson really a fluke? Now, we’ll never know. We won’t know if a fit Douglas, who came in at 231 against Tyson, could have beaten Holyfield. We know that a fat Douglas was no competition.

There could not have been more of a contrast between the fighters, who, when standing beside one another, looked like a before-and-after ad for Gold’s Gym.

Douglas hit Holyfield only once in three rounds. Everyone figured he would lean on Holyfield, using his weight to his advantage, but he couldn’t get close enough. Holyfield kept beating him to the jab, aiming at the ample gut. And when Douglas missed with a wild uppercut, he left himself wide-open for a short Holyfield right hand that sent Douglas crashing to the canvas.

Douglas lay flat on his back, the only way he could be lying flat. He kept rubbing his face, although it couldn’t have been in disbelief. From the opening bell, this result seemed assured. It took Douglas two minutes to rise, just before the paramedics’ specially built crane arrived.

For his part, Douglas didn’t even bother to apologize. He said he wasn’t embarrassed, and explained that he didn’t get into his rhythm.

“I was hoping to get some rounds under my belt,” said Douglas, who did, however, get everything else under his belt.

“If you live by the sword, you die by the sword.” A sword? How about a steak knife?