Outside the Ropes

By STEVE SPRINGER

Jan. 16, 1999 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

LAS VEGAS —

When Francois Botha goes to his corner tonight after the first round of his heavyweight fight against Mike Tyson, assuming he is able to get back to his corner, he knows the man who has been his trainer and chief strategist for the last four years won’t be there.

Charlie “Panama” Lewis will be in a front-row seat, hoping to get through to his fighter by sign language, a note or mental telepathy. That is as close to the ring as Lewis will get. It is as close to the ring as Lewis has gotten in 15 years.

Banned from working at fights and sent to prison for removing the padding from the gloves of one of his fighters in 1983, Lewis served 2 1/2 years behind bars and has been unable to get the New York State Athletic Commission to alter its decision to strip him of his boxing license.

People whose boxing expertise consists of knowing the difference between a boxing ring and an onion ring know the story of Mike Tyson, know how he is making his first appearance in the ring tonight since he bit Evander Holyfield’s ears in a heavyweight title rematch 19 months ago. There is little sympathy for Tyson, the former two-time heavyweight champion, as he takes what he hopes will be the first step toward a third title.

It is easy to feel sympathy for Lewis as he pleads his case. Botha and his manager, Sterling McPherson, also have added their voices, questioning Lewis’ guilt and stressing that he has suffered enough.

But once the details of the case are reviewed, sympathy is replaced by doubt.

Billy Ray Collins Jr. was a promising junior-middleweight in June 1983 when he entered the ring in Madison Square Garden to face Luis Resto. Collins, 21, was 14-0; Resto had a journeyman’s record of 20-7-2. If he could dispose of Resto, Collins had a possible shot at the winner of the main event that night between Davey Moore and Roberto Duran. With that promise came the hope for Collins of escaping a life of poverty in Antioch, Tenn.

It was never to be because of what happened in Resto’s dressing room before the fight.

There is no question of what happened. Lewis continues to dispute his role in making it happen.

No one disputes the following: When inspectors went to Resto’s dressing room, he had his hands taped but had not yet put on his gloves. Lewis told the inspectors to leave because he needed more time. When the inspectors returned, the gloves were already on. And, unbeknownst to the inspectors, the padding had been removed from those gloves.

The result was horrendous.

During the fight, Collins complained to his father, Billy Sr., that it felt as if Resto had “rocks in his gloves.”

Resto, not known for his punching power, inflicted a devastating amount of damage on Collins with his fists free of padding.

When the fight ended after 10 rounds, Collins’ face was an ugly purple mass, he had a torn iris in his right eye, his vision forever impaired.

His life would never be the same.

Nine months later, his dreams of boxing glory shattered, his blurry eyesight leaving him unable to hold even a menial job, Collins, drunk and depressed, drove his car into Collins Creek, a body of water in his hometown, and died.

Many close to Collins said it was suicide. Many close to him said he had, in effect, been murdered by Lewis and Resto.

Collins’ father had discovered the padding was missing when he grudgingly shook Resto’s hand after the fight. An investigation turned up pieces of horsehair, the material used as glove padding, in Resto’s dressing room.

Lewis and Resto were convicted of assault, criminal possession of a deadly weapon and tampering with a sports contest.

Lewis was sent to a penal institution named the Collins facility.

To this day, Lewis claims his innocence, pointing his finger at a dead man, Arthur Curley, as the culprit. Curley also worked Resto’s corner that night.

“If he [Curley] was alive today,” Lewis said, “you would know what happened. He was the one who put the gloves on, God bless his soul. But if I knew about it then, right then and there I should have said something.

“I have suffered every day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t have Collins in my mind. But I don’t feel Resto or I killed him. Sometimes, it’s just destiny.

“If I get my license back, I will give 5% of what I make to the Collins family. What else can I do? I have nine kids to feed.”

But Lewis also has enough jewelry adorning his body to open his own store and a reputation for employing questionable tactics with his fighters.

McPherson says that, regardless of Lewis’ guilt or innocence, he has been punished enough.

“If he would have had money and a good lawyer,” McPherson said, “he never would have gone to prison. Collins died in a car crash and they tied the two together.

“I think the guy [Lewis] has already paid with two years in prison. Do you keep a guy starving to death?”

McPherson said he is trying to get the New York commission to end Lewis’ ban, which is honored in other states, but he knows it certainly won’t happen by tonight.

So Lewis will sit in his seat and try to exert his influence on Botha in whatever way he can.

It’s the best he can hope for at this point. And a lot more than the Collins family is left to hope for.

People look at Botha and see Peter McNeeley.

The common perception is that Botha, even though he is a former heavyweight champion--he once held the title in the International Boxing Federation--will be merely a sacrificial lamb tonight.

Much as McNeeley, one step up from a sparring partner, served as the ideal opponent for Tyson after his four-year absence from boxing because of a rape conviction, Botha is considered a good choice for Tyson’s latest comeback.

McNeeley was gone in the first round of his 1995 fight against Tyson.

Tonight, Tyson figures to be shaking off rust as much as he is shaking the larger, but slower Botha.

“People think they have a garbage can in Botha,” said his trainer, Panama Lewis. “He is not a garbage can.”

Botha, a native of Witbank, South Africa now living in Newport Beach, has lost only once, to Michael Moorer, a TKO in the 12th in November 1996.

Since then, however, Botha has fought only James Stanton, Lee Gilbert, Stanley Johnson and David Cherry, none of whom offer much in the way of preparation for a fight with Tyson. At least the old Mike Tyson.

Boxing Notes

Also on tonight’s card, Roberto Garcia of Oxnard (31-0, 24 KOs), the IBF junior-lightweight champion, will defend his title against John John Molina (45-5, 30 KOs), two-time former IBF junior-lightweight champion.

Goyo Vargas (38-6-1, 28 KOs) and Ben Tackie (18-0, 11 KOs) will battle for the vacant World Boxing Council Continental America lightweight championship.

Zab Judah (18-0, 13 KOs), the United States Boxing Assn. junior-welterweight champion, will fight Wilfredo Negron (17-3, 14 KOs) for the IBF junior-welterweight championship.

Sort of. The winner will be considered only an interim champion.

Vince Phillips, still recognized as the IBF junior-welterweight titleholder despite having canceled a series of fights, will be obligated to fight the Judah-Negron winner.

Heavyweight Mount (formerly Lance) Whitaker of Los Angeles (17-0, 15 KOs) will fight veteran Alex Stewart (43-8, 40 KOs).

MIKE TYSON

(45-3, 39 KOs)

vs.

FRANCOIS BOTHA

(39-1, 24 KOs)

TONIGHT

6, Pay per view

Las Vegas

PURSE

Tyson: $10M

Botha: $1.85M