Though he no longer sports the black trunks, sockless black boots, and gut-twisting scowl with which he cut such a menacing figure in the ring, Mike Tyson hasn't lost his knack for making an entrance. When he arrives at the Green Valley Ranch resort in Henderson, Nevada, he does so as inconspicuously as may be possible for one of the most recognized and controversial sports figures of the last quarter-century, loping silently through the lobby in an elegantly tailored gray pinstripe suit decidedly more Hugo Boss than the outré Versace couture he favored at the peak of his flamboyant past. No paparazzi herald his arrival, no entourage follows behind, and the journalists with whom he has come to discuss what might be the comeback of his career number not in the hundreds, but rather a handful. Yet even with this deliberately stealthy arrival on a sleepy weekday afternoon, Tyson's very presence seems to reverberate throughout the hotel as if by sonar. No sooner is he seated just inside the open door of a small conference room on a quiet upper floor than an inordinately large number of guests have an urgent, simultaneous need of the... More >>>