challenger did not hold back. Holyfield stuck his right fist firmly into his opponent’s face, knocking him out for the next five minutes and securing The Ring, WBA, WBC and IBF belts in the process. Holyfield had settled for $8m of the purse – only a third of what Douglas was paid – but he had earned the right to be called the champ.

Things were never the same for Tyson after his first defeat. His belts were passed around the heavyweight division during the early 1990s as he went to prison and then fought his way back into contention. He won back the WBC and WBA titles in 1996, but on that February day at the start of the decade, he had to be content with lying onpeople sick Tyson versus a professional wrestler such as Hulk Hogan or geographical gimmicks of the Rumble in the Jungle sort Tyson at the Berlin Wall, in Beijing, or on the moon if King can find a co-operative local co-promoter.

The crazy thing is that for Tyson defeat would now constitute a good career move. The Japanese, on his second visit, no longer find him much of a novelty. The £600 seats have gone, to people who are less interested in seeing than in being seen, but the £20 seats remain slow-moving.

Twenty quid is hardly more than the cost of a cup of coffee in Tokyo, but you can make that last longer than 93 seconds.

Tyson is still big news here. The sports papers, the equivalent of our tabloids,