Two hours after Mike Tyson unified the three world heavyweight titles in August 1987 he was sitting on a red velvet throne, surrounded by six men wearing Beefeater uniforms and blowing trumpets.
Tyson had just defeated the previously unbeaten Tony Tucker to add the IBF belt to his WBA and
WBC baubles. He looked unbeatable, the only man who could clean up the chaos and confusion. He was, as the posters proclaimed, "The Baddest Man on the Planet".
At Tyson's side that splendid night in Las Vegas were Don King and the three heads of the sanctioning bodies that were desperate to recognise the boxer's achievements. The heavyweight division had been in turmoil for more than five years, a period dubbed "The Lost Generation" by Tim Witherspoon. In attendance as suited and smiling courtiers were Bob Lee of the IBF, Gilberto Mendoza from the WBA and the WBC's Jose Sulaiman, at the elaborate coronation.
There was a red carpet and some of Tyson's victims were walked forward to parade in front of the new king. Step forward "Sir Pinky", aka Pinklon Thomas, and "Sir Bonecrusher", aka James "Bonecrusher" Smith, both of whom had held world titles and suffered at the fists of "King" Mike. I have no idea if they bowed as they walked in front of Tyson, but I'm guessing that for their attendance fee King would have demanded at least a minor genuflection.
At first Tyson was loath to wear the robe that King produced, a little chinchilla number that came with a jewelled sceptre. However, when Muhammad Ali appeared on the stage carrying a mink-lined crown Tyson added the regal touches over his street clothes. Ali placed the crown on Tyson's head and the trumpeters heralded a new dawn in heavyweight boxing.
