Mike Tyson, a Chunk of Ear, and a Dumb Bet

One of my last memories leading up to incarceration, about a year and some change prior, was a little get together we had at my mother's house in 1997. It was the night of the Mike Tyson / Evander Holyfield rematch and some of my friends that I had grown up with would be attending.

There were approximately eight of us and one keg. Mario, my closest friend, though we were all connected through years of pick-up basketball, had a bet going with Felipe. I'm not sure now what the exact amount was, but it was more than I would have bet given I was a senior in high school at the time. I'd rather test my knowledge on some football picks. Too many variables in boxing for gambling, but that's beside the point.

This was the fight where Tyson infamously bit the ear of his opponent, spitting a chunk of it to the canvas, forever solidifying his pathetic legacy in sports. I have that asshole to thank for what the results of this disqualification would bring. Didn't he rape a woman? He did three years for RAPE?

I'm pretty sure everyone was wasted even though the fight didn't make it past the second or third round. Felipe almost immediately wanted his money. He had bet on Evander (Who I believe would have been the eventual winner anyway) and Evander, despite losing his ear, had won the fight. Mario immediately protested the payout. His argument was that they were friends and this wasn't a fucking casino. It was a "Disqualification!" I'd have to say that I agreed. I'm pretty sure everyone else did as well. Felipe had his two little brothers there with him and I bet they even agreed.

This playful argument quickly moved to the front yard, but I knew Mario wasn't planning on paying Felipe regardless. This eventually turned into a spirited argument which led to my friend Jason getting a bit too close to Felipe for one of Felipe's little brother's liking. We were standing on the inclined driveway and Jason was sucker-punched from behind. Jason was lanky and at his level of intoxication was a tree waiting to fall. Lesson #1 from this experience is not to let your obviously volatile 15 year old younger brother drink with your friends.

Jason crashed into the yard after backpedaling a few steps. He looked like Glass Joe from Mike Tyson's video-game. You know the simulation! Not too many men would have taken that punch well from behind though. I'd have been out like a light. Before Jason even knew what had happened, Felipe was ushering his two brothers into the Bronco to leave. It would go no further it seemed and I'd like to think that that was Felipe's intention.

Now, I haven't really mentioned it, but Felipe was a scary mother fucker. Better yet, he was a loose cannon, Scarface obsessed (Not the rapper but the movie; cocaine included.), Mexican pride, family before friends, mi vida loca son of a bitch. He was leaving and that was good. Everyone just needed to chill. This was about Mike Tyson and an ear. That shit was hilarious. However, Mario, who was emotional by now, wanted to go and talk to Felipe. They lived on adjacent culdesacs and had known each other the longest.

I was always bent on pleasing my friends and must admit the whole situation was out of control. Mario just jumped in to the back of my Dad's truck and we drove over to Felipe's house. It was pretty late and his parents had a sign on their door telling whitey to keep out. I never understood why it was in Spanish though. Anyway, I parked at the head of the street and allowed Mario to approach by foot.

Mario made it to the drive-way before disappearing behind one of those huge customized vans, which was parked out front. He must have only made it about halfway to the door, because soon after vanishing he reappeared, backing away from the house with his hands up. Felipe had pulled a gauge on Mario. I think his point was made, because I've never seen another Mexican run that fast in my life. Speaking of fast, my cracker-ass managed to get the truck into reverse pretty quickly and get the hell out of there too. I did wait on Mario to get in though.

About a week later I went to disciplinary boot camp somewhere in Texas near Houston. Little did I know how much my life would be changed upon completing it. My life would never be the same, and all of the people I had invested so much time in being friends with to this day can only be revisited in my memories. (Click here to subscribe to my feed!)