On This Day In Boxing History!

Mike Tyson vs Peter McNeeley

August 19th, 1995

MGM Grand, Las Vegas, Nevada

(click above pic to read)

The 89th Second – Charles Farrel

On Tyson / McNeeley – Deadspin Magazine

The best fixer I ever knew was Vin Vecchione. In the 1990s we spent a lot of time together, making big plans, drinking bad coffee in cheap diners, laughing at our friends and enemies, forging boxers' medical records, and getting our fighters wins.

Vin died suddenly in 2009. I'd left boxing and we'd lost touch. But I wanted to see how Peter McNeeley was doing, so I went to the memorial service. The embalmer had done a lousy job: Although still clutching a cigar, wearing his cap, and smiling his secretive half-smile, Vin didn't look like anyone I'd ever known or anyone who'd once been a person.

When I met Vin in 1993, I was managing an undefeated heavyweight I'd brought to Brockton from the Midwest. Vin handled McNeeley, also undefeated. I'd agitated on local radio shows and in newspapers for a showdown. Vecchione called to request a sit-down at a local luncheonette. When I arrived, he draped a hefty arm around my shoulder, walked me to a booth, helped me off with my overcoat, and sat down across from me.

"My fighter ain't never going to fight your fighter. OK, we got that outta the way. Now we might as well get along."

Two years later McNeeley would last 89 seconds against Mike Tyson in what was then the largest grossing event in sports history. The fight ended when Vecchione nonchalantly slipped between the ropes to save his still-standing fighter.

There were two journalistic responses, both outraged. The first was based mainly on a perceived attack on the sanctity of the sport: People had paid big money to witness—depending on their temperament—a fight or a slaughter, and had been euchred out of seeing either. McNeeley was still OK when referee Mills Lane waved things off. And though he was in some trouble when the fight had ended, it wasn't a sure thing he was finished. Boxing writers pointed out that McNeeley hadn't "gone out on his shield." Soon after the fight's conclusion, he could be seen walking around the ring with an outsize grin on his face, chatting with reporters, family, and friends, his distress wearing off by the second. Paid nearly a million dollars to serve as a human sacrifice, he'd escaped without a bruise.

The second response didn't show up until the fight narrative had passed through a series of plausibility tests and been green-lit as acceptable. This version featured McNeeley fighting valiantly ("He charged right at Tyson!"), and being inexplicably robbed of glory by Vecchione. As Ferdie Pacheco stammered, "He doesn't belong in boxing if he's going to save his fighter." Vecchione had cheated both Peter and the public.

But Peter McNeeley, if not expertly maneuvered, would never have gotten nearly as far in boxing as he did. Vin earned McNeeley a $700,000 payday, pushing the figure to over a million by parlaying the fight's weird conclusion into two lucrative TV commercials and keeping the door open for Peter's ongoing viability as a high-priced opponent.

Granted, Vecchione wasn't thinking only of his fighter's welfare. Vin's payoff wasn't limited to the fight purse. The real money was in knowing exactly how Peter McNeeley would do fighting Mike Tyson. And Vin knew down to the second how Peter McNeeley would do.

The night before Tyson-McNeeley, someone in Las Vegas placed a million-dollar bet on the fight not going a full 90 seconds. When Vecchione, seemingly unhurried, stepped between the ropes to force an automatic disqualification, 89 seconds had elapsed.

I didn't know it was going to happen. Vin and I had gotten together in the dining room of a Braintree, Mass., hotel just prior to his bringing McNeeley to Vegas and my heading back to my place in Puerto Rico. He'd said then that no one had approached him about having McNeeley take a dive. But later two strange things happened. I got a phone call from someone I didn't know well. This person mentioned that a private million-dollar bet had been made that the fight "wouldn't get past the first round." Soon after the fight, Vin called to ask if I'd come to his house to pick something up. I was still in Puerto Rico, so I asked if I could send someone. Vin said, "Send someone you trust." When my guy met with Vecchione, he was given an envelope that contained enough money to put my son through college (admittedly, an inexpensive one).

I've often thought about the kind of discipline that must have taken, the Zen-like calm of a small-timer who could wait and wait, during the biggest money event in sports history, until there was literally not another second to wait. I've marveled at the ingenuity of Vecchione, planning ahead for years with no budget and no promise of good things to come, slowly and steadily bringing this move to its amazing conclusion.

He'd considered every angle. Vecchione knew that for all its posturing the Nevada State Commission would have to pay him: Tyson was the biggest cash cow in the state's history, and any problem with the fight's outcome would gum up a billion dollars in future casino business. Vin had the state of Nevada, the casinos, the commission, pay-per-view boxing, and Don King by the balls, and he knew it.

A heroic narrative painted Tyson as a savage warrior from the mean streets of Brownsville and McNeeley as a soft white boy from suburban Medfield, Mass., who hadn't earned his shot. But Tyson had been a multimillionaire for his entire adult life. McNeeley and Vecchione were a couple of hungry motherfuckers who didn't have a dime between them. Had McNeeley been a more accomplished fighter, he would have torn apart the easily discouraged Tyson. And Vecchione would have had to figure out some other reason to step into the ring early.

Charles Farrell, a former boxing manager known for his involvement in fight fixing, has commented on the Mike Tyson vs. Peter McNeeley fight. Farrell suggested that the fight was fixed or at least manipulated. According to him, McNeeley was made to take a dive in a way that allowed the fight to last 89 seconds, which allowed certain bets on the fight's duration to pay off. Farrell explained that the stoppage was timed with precision, and the fighters and their handlers knew exactly how the fight would unfold.

He described how the fight ended with McNeeley's corner stepping into the ring, causing a disqualification, and that this moment was planned to happen just before the 90-second mark. Farrell also indicated that there was a million-dollar bet placed on the fight ending in under 90 seconds, which came through because of the prearranged ending.

Farrell portrayed the situation as a calculated and patient plan involving many parties, including the Nevada State Commission and the promoters, to safeguard the huge financial interests around the event. He commented on the fight's narrative post-event, where McNeeley was cast as brave but ultimately overmatched, while the reality was that it was a choreographed outcome for financial and promotional reasons.

This take from Charles Farrell is part of a wider controversial perspective on that bout, which has been described by some as one of boxing’s most bizarre and manipulated events.

This insight comes from an article published on Deadspin and other boxing discussions related to Farrell's admissions and retrospectives on fight fixing in boxing.

August 19th

1879: John L. Sullivan vs. Mike Donovan: In bare-knuckle history, a 21-year-old John L. Sullivan fought an exhibition match against veteran brawler Mike Donovan, showcasing the power that would soon make Sullivan the last bare-knuckle world heavyweight champion. 

1900: Abe Attell KO2 Kid Lennett

1926: Tiger Flowers W15 Harry Greb

1941: Ceferino Garcia KO3 Bobby Pacho

1944: Carl Olson KO2 Bob Correa

1958: Hilario Zapata born in Panama City, Panama

1959: Davey Moore KO11 Hogan Bassey

1961: Eder Jofre KO7 Ramon Arias

1972: Jeremy Williams was born in Fort Dodge, Iowa

Carlos Monzon KO5 Tom Boggs

Ernesto Marcel W15 Antonio Gomez

1978: Lorenzo Parra was born in Machiques, Venezuela

1983: Beibut Shumenov is born in Shymkent, Kazakh SSR, Soviet Union.

1990: Maurice Blocker W12 Marlon Starling

1993: Rafael Ruelas KO1 Conrado Lopez

1995: Mike Tyson KO1 Peter McNeeley – Official DQ after McNeeley's manager enters the ring

Bruce Seldon KO10 Joe Hipp

Dariusz Michalczewski KO5 Everardo Armenta

Quincy Taylor KO6 Julian Jackson

Terry Norris KO2 Luis Santana

Miguel Angel Gonzalez W12 Lamar Murphy

Philip Holiday KO11 Miguel Julio

2000: Prince Naseem Hamed KO4 Augie Sanchez

Antonio Diaz W12 Mickey Ward

2007: Chris John KO9 Zaiki Takemoto

2011: Matthew Hatton W12 Andrei Abramenka

Suriyan Kaikanha W12 Tomas Rojas      

2017: Terence Crawford KO3 Julius Indongo

Debora Anahi Dionicius W10 Diana Laura Fernandez

Linda Laura Lecca W10 Karina Fernandez

2018: Shavkatdzhon Rakhimov TKO212 Robinson Castellanos

Magomed Kurbanov W10 Charles Manyuchi

Muhammadkhuja Yaqubov KO1/10 Victor Gonzalez Rodriguez