Mike Tyson's much-hyped one man Broadway show (and Spike Lee joint) Mike Tyson: Undisputed Truth came to L.A. for just a few performances this past weekend. In it he apparently comes clean about his past by admitting that he has one, in that he is bound by the physical laws of space-time. Though we have to wonder. No really, we are actually obligated to wonder because we had to stay home and wash our remaining hair follicles, thus missing the whole show. You know how it is.
But, we got to thinking, what if other prize fighters had their own one-person shows? Let's take a look at how they'd play out:
A food show. Or, rather, an eating show. Obviously. The audience would just sit and watch as Butterbean slowly and methodically takes down a ten foot bacon and meatball-added Italian cold cut sub Adam Richman-style. Maybe they can call it Undisputed Tooth or something? He'll spend the last ten minutes, like Tyson, trying to rehabilitate his image and having a carrot or some shit.
This one would be pretty boring actually. Sure, the Golden Boy's had his fair share of out-of-court rape settlements with underage girls, cross-dressing and his bout with alcoholism, but nothing that seems to really tarnish his gilded visage. And this would hardly be John Leguizamo's Ghetto Klown, mainly because, y'know, he wears nice suits and such. We can imagine a bored audience seated before De La Hoya as he stares at himself lovingly in a giant mirror. He'd probably take some breaks from his self-marveling to talk about how tough it was to grow up in East LA. Between anecdotes where he paints himself as, like, straight out of low-cash, he'll probably try to sell everyone something.
We've already seen this actually. It was every fucking Foreman Grill infomercial…remember those? He even did some other shit a few years ago where he sells some cleaning product of some kind that doesn't even bear his name. His champion status has only been tarnished by the very best brawlers in history, Ali, Morrison, and Holyfield, but he'll also tell you exactly how one scrubs out that very tarnish with some half-assed late night TV cleanser. If this gets to happen in a theater like a proper one-man show, the audience will be legally obligated to face the other way and pretend it's not happening.
Given Pacquiao's work as a politician and humanitarian — and the kerfuffle over his anti-gay marriage comments — this won't be a one man show so much as a reconciliatory two-hour duet with Elton John, singing hits like “Candle In the Wind” in English and Tagalog. They'll later hold hands and announced that all proceeds go to the Human Rights Campaign.
Another musical. Only this one will be a perfect rendition of Kirk Van Houten's pathetic “Can I Borrow a Feeling?” from The Simpsons. McNeeley will talk about the trials and tribulations of being the brain-dead punching bag to the stars. He will then get run over by a truck from whatever trucking company paid the evening's sponsorship fees. As Tyson's first post-prison fight victim, he would be proud to follow in his self-deprecating footsteps.
Rodriguez makes Iron Mike's rape conviction and ear biting look like the benign sandbox antics at a KinderCare. Here's what manner of undisputed truths ol' Ricco would have to cop to alone onstage: in addition to spitting on a dude, he was the first UFC fighter to be suspended for cocaine use. But, even more tragicomically, he actually once crashed his car into a semi-trailer while high (obvs). While doing that whole crashing thing, he dragged the unconscious body of his then girlfriend (who he actually thought was dead) into the driver's seat so it would appear like she was driving. Oh, if that wasn't enough awfulness, he once defied Dr. Drew by jumping off a boat on Celebrity Rehab. If he could somehow work that entire story into an extended slam poem…that might be the greatest work of art ever conceived ever.
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