Mike Tyson: Undisputed Truth Page #3

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for being something great.

I didn't know what. Like a gangster

or stickup man or something.

Muhammad Ali:

I'm a bad man.

I am the king

of the world.

( cheering )

I remember like it was

yesterday when Muhammad Ali

came to Spofford Juvenile

Detention Center

to visit the kids there.

Man, he lit the place up.

And I was saying to myself,

"Wow. "

I didn't know how I was gonna do

it, but I knew I wanted what Ali had.

I wanted people to be around me and

look up to me because I was special.

And at the time there was this trainer

that worked at the Tryon School for Boys,

a place that I would eventually

get transferred to from Spofford

'cause I stabbed

a motherf***er, right?

I was a beautiful child.

( laughs )

I was a beautiful child.

Listen, right.

So this trainer,

he taught boys how to box.

And I remember seeing the guys

when I was in the hold.

They were coming back

from the other side of the dorm

with cracked ribs,

bloody noses, knocked-out teeth.

But they were happy.

And I wanted to be happy, too.

So I said, "Yo, yo,

what's going on?"

'Cause that's how I talked

back then.

"Yo, yo, what's going on

back there, man? What's up?"

I wanted to be in

that program so bad,

but he ignored me.

The trainer, Bobby Stewart,

who we're watching now,

he ignored me because he

thought I was a troublemaker,

and I was 'cause I stabbed

a guy to get there.

It was a bad place...

So he comes to my room

in the middle of the night

'cause I told people

I wanted to meet him

and this is

his white ass.

( laughter )

"Let me tell you something,

you little d*ckhead.

I hear you want to be

in my program. "

( laughter )

"You got to show me

you're ready to work

without being an a**hole,

a**hole.

And then you do

that with me,

maybe I could work

with your dumb ass. "

And this is how he talked to

me. Just met me that evening.

It was hard,

but I did it.

I got on honor roll.

You know the honor roll.

The slow kids' honor roll.

Special ed honor roll.

I made the f***ing

special ed honor roll.

Like, "what block will fit

into this hole" type sh*t.

I did it. I did it.

Who needs boxing?

I got on honor roll.

So he introduced me

to this old Italian man

that would change

the path of my life.

This guy would become my mentor

and his name was Cus D'Amato.

( applause )

The names Mike Tyson

and Cus D'Amato

would forever be synonymous

with one another.

You can't mention my name and not

ever reference the legacy of Cus

nor can you mention Cus

without reference to my legacy.

Cus told me from the moment he met me

what would happen after he watched me box

and follow his map

to success.

He said...

just like this, he said,

"Now, Mike, I'll tell you,

Mike, if you listen to me,

you really want to do this,

I'm gonna put you in the locals,

then the regionals,

then the nationals.

You're gonna win that,

and then after that,

you're gonna become the youngest

heavyweight champ of all time.

As of now, I hold the record

with Floyd Patterson at 21.

You could break that record at 20 and be

the youngest and the greatest of all time.

Only if you listen

to me, of course. "

And so, of course, I'm a young

black kid from the inner city.

Cus says this to me, this white man

said this to me with no hesitation.

I thought he was

a pervert at first.

No, 'cause where I come from,

they was trying to f*** you.

There's always somebody

trying to f*** you, right?

But really, believe it or not,

his confidence in delivery

made me believe this was

gonna be an easy task, right?

At the time, I had no idea

what I was getting myself into.

I just knew

it sounded good.

When I got discouraged,

as I often did,

he would massage my mind

with these great thoughts

of exotic worlds

and masterful treasures.

Man, everything he said

sounded so foreign to me,

but I loved the way

it sound.

There we were, venturing off

on this magnificent adventure

like two pirates

ready to claim our riches

and to decimate anyone

that stands in our way.

This old man made me hunger

for glory like a mad dog.

So one of the first things

Cus ever told me

was this invention called

the Willie. The Willie, right?

It's named after light heavyweight

champion Willie Pastrano.

Let me explain this.

Cus would call out

a number.

Cus would call out

these numbers.

Cus would call

these numbers out

and I'm gonna

do it slow

'cause I'm an old

motherf***er now, all right?

But Cus would call out

numbers in rapid succession.

It would go

something like this.

One... left hook

to the jaw. Boom.

Two... right hook

to the jaw. Boom.

Three... left uppercut.

Four... right uppercut.

Five... left hook

to the liver.

Six... right hand

to the spleen.

Seven... jab to the head.

Eight... jab to the body.

F***. I'm glad I don't have

to do that for a living no more.

God damn.

But anyway, our early adventures

started traveling all over the country

fighting in these small clubs

called "smokers. "

And the reason why

they were called smokers

is because the cigarette

and cigar smoke

was so thick, you could hardly

see the guy you're fighting

let alone the guy

you're talking to.

And Cus was a big man

in this world.

And the fights was

pretty much unsanctioned,

which meant lawless.

There was never

no paramedics outside.

If you got a concussion

and you died, it's on you.

You know?

No, this is real talk.

And plus, if the crowd didn't like

your performance, they didn't boo.

They fought each other to show

you how it was really done.

This is some serious Puerto Rican

sh*t, man. I'm serious, all right?

I'm serious.

You think I'm bullshitting?

No offense, Puerto Ricans,

but listen...

( laughter, applause )

y'all some fighting

motherfuckers.

You're either fighting,

f***ing, or cutting.

Y'all are doing some sh*t.

But anyway,

so I'm like

14 years old, right?

But Cus had me chiseled in this

great Michelangelo statue right here.

Back... not now.

Back then, all right?

I was really cut up like I got in a

fight with the Latin Kings and lost.

No, listen, really.

I won the national championship

just like Cus said I would

at 14.

I broke the record

for the fastest knockout.

Never been broken.

Eight seconds.

( applause )

I was well on my way.

So one day Cus looks

at me dead in my eye

and he goes, "Hey, Michael,

you scared of white people?"

What? "You, are you

scared of white people?"

F***.

I'm scared of this

white motherf***er right here.

Sh*t, I'm not worried.

He didn't get reelected.

I'm cool.

Elected. I got f***ed up with the words.

Elected.

Sh*t, I can't believe

Spike's racist ass

didn't have George Zimmerman

up here instead of him.

Sh*t.

Oh, sh*t.

F***.

Love to Trayvon Martin

and family.

But, anyway,

I'm talking sh*t.

( laughter )

But really, no,

as I'm saying this to you,

and I'm speaking

very eloquent at the moment,

Spike isn't worth a damn

because Spike knew me

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