Boxing/ Kevin McBride v Mike Tyson: He promised but nobody was listening. For months, Kevin McBride told anyone who would listen, in his broad Monaghan accent, he would "shock the world" by defeating Mike Tyson.
And though the world has grown much too weary and cynical to be shocked by anything involving the former enfant terrible of boxing, McBride's words and actions held echoes of the sport's noblest era.
It seemed oddly fitting in the din and opulence of the MCI centre that the unfancied Irishman should deliver on this claim in front of Muhammad Ali, the man whose fighting exploits and endless charisma could send an electrical charge through the remotest corners of the globe.
This is a new time, of course, and deep down, the suspicion that Tyson was trading on the ghost of his notoriety meant this hour would arrive sooner or later. All sportsmen are in the end betrayed by the game they once commanded. It is a law of nature.
Nonetheless, it was spellbinding and somewhat unbelievable to see that famously buff torso, that dark comic-strip icon being shoved and boxed around the ring by McBride, who was like a throwback to an earlier era in both style and attitude.
In the days leading up to this event, a general realisation seemed to descend on Washington that the opportunities to see Tyson doing what he once did so devastatingly might be few.
And so uptake on tickets was brisk and by seven o'clock on Saturday night, downtown Washington was awash with limousines, with glamorous creatures and moody young men in expensive suits (but then, Clones folk always had a touch of flash about them).
The arrival of Ali, visiting primarily to see his daughter Laila box, caused pandemonium in the arena - a standing ovation and a prolonged chant of his name from a crowd predominantly much too young to remember when he was king.
Ali's youngest girl didn't disappoint, pulverising Erin Toughill, a brave young punk-rock fighter from southern California with Irish roots, in just three rounds.
As Ali paraded victorious, her father was persuaded to grace the ring once more. He negotiated the ropes with poignant care and then blossomed in front of the roaring applause, throwing a few shadow boxes and greeting his girl with the words: "You're bad."
That set the tone for the appearance of The Baddest, and there were signs early on that Tyson might send McBride to sleep with one of his swift, lethal hooks to the chin.
But unlike the many men who have encountered Tyson down the years, the Irishman had no fear in his eyes. From the opening bell he went about deconstructing the last remnants of Tyson's aura and in girth and attitude he was like a throwback to an earlier era of the heavyweight game.
And though there were moments of concern - most notably when Tyson landed a left uppercut and then followed with two swift hooks in the third round - McBride never really looked troubled. And the failure to make the sort of instant impression that was expected must have seriously disheartened Tyson.
By the fourth round, his strike rate had diminished greatly and it was clear he was unable to exploit the gaps in McBride's guard with the trademark series of lightning punches that ended 44 of his fights prematurely.
By the sixth round, the voices must have been raging in Tyson's head, and though he employed his survivor's handbook, cutting McBride with a sly headbutt and twisting his arm, he was gone.
"Ah, he tried a few rough tactics but that's heavyweight boxing," beamed McBride afterwards in front of a still-stunned American press corps.
Admiration for the victor was general, but there was a peculiar atmosphere in the underbelly of the MCI arena when the fighters sat down in front of the cameras. Such is the powerful affect Tyson has on the American imagination.
The odd thing was that the person who seemed most easily reconciled to the idea of defeat was Tyson himself.
"I don't look back on it," he said of the mad days of glory and violence. "My career was over in 1990. You guys define me. When I look at my fans, they don't love me, they love what I do. I entertain them. They come to get entertained. They wouldn't invite me to their house or let me go out with their daughter. I entertain them."
And it was true. Even before he sat down on his stool - much like poor old Sonny Liston against Ali all those years ago - Iron Mike's crowd had begun to howl their disapproval at his vulnerability, one young man shouting in outrage, "He quit. He quit like a dog."
It was as if Mike had already mentally fled the arena long before he made his final exit, and he spoke with an optimism few thought imaginable about his future without the sport that defined him.
"I don't know. I am looking into my missionary work. There are some Christian missionaries who are interested in letting me go to Bosnia and Rwanda and help with people in dire need. I am not interested in fighting anymore. Hey, listen, I'm taking nothing away from Kevin McBride but we know his credentials and if I can't beat him I can't even beat Junior Jones. I just don't want to do this stuff anymore.
"I'm just trying to change my life. I'm not above killing drug dealers for money," he laughed, "so I would prefer not to go down that route."
At one point, he remembered meeting Ali when he was a 10-year-old boy locked in a New York juvenile detention centre and the champ came to visit. There is still something of that lisping, lost child locked away in Tyson's personality.
And as he marvelled at the way the years just vanished, the whole occasion suddenly seemed terribly poignant, with old Ali moving with stiff grace in the wings and now Tyson, the eternal teenage tearaway, giving way to the vicissitudes of middle age.
"I can't do this stuff anymore. I don't want to embarrass the sport," he explained.
"It's a great sport and I don't want to disrespect it. You know, Kevin here is a wonderful young man and I wish him the best but this is the end for me."
So it goes. F Scott Fitzgerald was probably right when he said there were no second acts in American life, but for 20 years, Tyson was the rare exception to that.
Some part of this country will always crave after that wild and sometimes psychotic nonconformity, but the heartening thing about his midnight reflection was that he looked content and happy to be calling time on himself.
"I don't need no swansong," he said. "Life goes on. I don't think I can ever do too well in this country. I'm too stigmatised. And I'm comfortable with that but you have to go somewhere you can do some good and be respected."
It would be aremarkable conversion, Tyson as missionary, and as he contemplated such a vista, there was enough goodwill in the warm evening air to make it seem possible.
Either way, it will be a far cry from the future that beckons for McBride, who wakes up this morning known across America as the man who finished Tyson.
Ideally, McBride would like to challenge heavyweight champion John Ruiz for the WBC belt in Boston. However, the Irishman has a modest ranking and will have to further prove himself before reaching that stage. But his reputation as the man who dusted off Mike Tyson will guarantee him another few lucrative evenings on the bright side of boxing.
Although dismayed by Tyson's quiet exit from the world in which he caused so much havoc, the American boxing literati warmed to the Irishman's bravery and natural charm. Perhaps that was why the crowning moment for McBride occurred close to midnight, when he left his press conference to meet Ali.
It was a touching sight to see the big Clones man embraced by the most adored athlete of the 20th century. It was his taste of the American Dream and even Tyson seemed to share in McBride's big-hearted delight.
"Kevin fought a good fight and I wish for him the best. I tried in there but I just didn't have the heart any more."
And as Tyson vanished into the muggy Washington night to try and conjure up a life without the safety net of boxing, McBride roamed the downtown area with his friends and family celebrating the fight of his life. "This is just the beginning," he promised, the new Cinderella Man of boxing.
Kevin McBride: Factfile
1973: Born May 10th in Monaghan.
1992: December 17th - Begins professional boxing career with draw against Gary Charlton in Barking.
1993: First professional win arrives on February 13 against Gary Williams in Manchester, the first of 19 in succession, several of which come in the United States.
1997: February 7th - loses his unbeaten record, beaten by technical knock-out in Las Vegas by Louis Monaco of the US. Beaten in two of his next five fights, over a 15-month span.
1998: Makes United States his permanent base.
1999: Knocks out Domingo Monroe in first round in Boston, and does not fight for the next two years.
2001: Returns to the ring in August and fights again in November, posting 10-round wins over Willie Phillips and Rodney McSwain.
2002: Suffers setback in January with fifth-round technical knock-out by DaVarryl Williamson in Las Vegas. Recovers to post three quickfire victories later in the year.
2003: A good year, through which McBride goes unbeaten with three victories.
2004: Does not fight.
2005: Beats Kevin Montiy in Mashantucket, Connecticut, in March. Posts technical knock-out win in fifth round and a month later is confirmed as Mike Tyson's next opponent.
June 11th, 2005: Ranked 154th in the world, McBride is considered fodder for Tyson but former world champion is nowhere near his best, retires on stool at end of sixth round and announces he is quitting the sport.
