Holyfield in Class by Himself With Boxing Skill, Dignity

The lost figure in all of this Tyson tumult, of course, is Evander Holyfield, the redeeming piece of a heavyweight division that grows more feeble every day.

While the other major players of this era have fallen away or been shoveled to the sideline, Holyfield has kept hammering, and he is pretty much alone now, still hammering.

In the aftermath of the Mike Tyson fiasco, Riddick Bowe’s retirement, Buster Douglas’ ballooning and Andrew Golota’s silliness, Holyfield endures as a testament to his own dignity--and, unintentionally, the barrenness of the rest of the field.

Bowe, maybe the most complete fighter of this era when he was right, quit fighting rather than get hit anymore. The talented Golota appears to almost seek out disqualification, even when he’s winning fights. Lennox Lewis fights like someone who knows he’s flawed.

George Foreman is still around, but he’s 48 and demands huge payments for every fistic appearance.

Holyfield is the man who, with a piece of his ear spat on the canvas by Tyson and his handlers screaming at him to cease the battle, wanted only to return to action.

As blood gushed down the side of his head during the four minutes he was given to recover from the first of Tyson’s bites in the third round of Saturday’s title fight, Holyfield yelled at co-trainer Tommy Brooks, “Put my mouthpiece back in. Put my mouthpiece back in!”

“Look at Holyfield, don’t look at Tyson,” veteran trainer Teddy Atlas said. “For anybody who was disgusted by what Tyson did, who says, ‘I don’t want to watch boxing anymore, the sport should be banned,’ look at Holyfield. Look at what he is, look at the way he conducted himself in a horrible situation.

“In our fascination with ugliness, we lose track of things. Look at what Holyfield has accomplished with his life--don’t take that away from him. Don’t get rid of boxing because of Tyson. Just get rid of the Tysons.”

The heavyweight division has been a muddle before, and maybe even less talented than it is right now. But with Tyson teetering toward being a non-factor, it’s not much of a division.

Tyson-Holyfield II might have generated close to $150 million, and there is little else out there that looks as if it would gross even half that.

After the light and glory of the late-1960s and 1970s, when Sonny Liston, Muhammad Ali, Foreman, Joe Frazier and Ken Norton battled for position, the public yawned through Larry Holmes’ neat and tidy seven-year run as champion.

Before Tyson, the title moved from journeyman to journeyman. Then Tyson blew out the field, punctuating his claim with his demolition of Michael Spinks.

In a strictly financial sense, Tyson was seen as boxing’s savior a decade ago. He was the milestone moneymaker of this era. When he returned from his three-year jail term, he was viewed as having saved it again, generating unheard of sums of money while laying waste to yet another collection of drab champions.

After Saturday, he won’t ever save it again, and who is left to prime the money pump?

Holyfield has indicated he would like to fight in November against International Boxing Federation champion Michael Moorer, who handed Holyfield his only unavenged defeat in 1994, when Holyfield was the champion.

But Moorer, after showing early promise, has proven to be a lackluster heavyweight--overly cautious, victorious often simply because of his left-handed style and exposed as a weak-chinned fighter by Foreman three years ago.

“Evander against Michael Moorer? That doesn’t exactly get the blood curdling,” promoter Bob Arum said.

The other contenders? Herbie Hide, Francois Botha, Corrie Sanders, David Tua, Henry Akinwande, Orlin Norris. . . . Even in their wildest dreams, these men are not budding superstars.

The fragility of the field may even give Tyson plenty of chances to reestablish his knockout credentials, assuming he is not given a long suspension. But at the same time, how can he redeem himself as an elite fighter if there is nobody tough to fight?

So the heavyweight class--and boxing as a whole--waits for that next incendiary presence, the next man who will shock the world.

And while we wait, Holyfield sits on the throne, appreciated less than he should be, but guaranteed a sizable spot in history.

It’s not his fault that everybody else quit--or bit--rather than continue the battle.