The Jock as Fallen Idol

Of all the numbers Mike Tyson has generated -- the 36 knockouts, the half- dozen biographies, the hundreds of millions of dollars in arena and TV revenue -- the one he never wanted was 922335. For the next few years, that will be his ID as a guest of the Indiana penal system. Last week Judge Patricia Gifford sentenced Tyson to six years in prison (with parole eligibility in 1995) and fined him $30,000 on his conviction of raping Desiree Washington in July. Within minutes he had removed his Rolex watch and silver tiepin and surrendered them to one of his lawyers. The gray suit came off later. He'll be wearing stripes for a while.

If Tyson could shrug off his athlete's notoriety with the same speed, he might pacifically endure his stir time. Can this happen? The odds are long. In jail he runs a risk of being the brutalized victim, under no laws but those of survival and silence. There, some stark lifer with nothing to lose may be the fighter of Tyson's nightmares. If any crime is more underreported than date rape, it is prison rape. %

What brought Tyson down is what brought him fame: the popular view of the male athlete. Tyson's skill made him champ. The glamour that fans saw in Tyson helped him think he was invincible, immune to rejection or conviction. And his belief in his machismo -- the male athlete's mandatory arrogance -- made him insist that, in the matter of rape, he was blameless.

"I am not guilty of this crime," Tyson said before sentencing. "I didn't rape anyone. I didn't hurt anyone -- no black eyes, no broken ribs. When I'm in the ring, I break their ribs; I break their jaws. To me, that's hurting someone." Saying this, he hurt himself. The judge, convinced that Tyson showed so little understanding of his actions that he was in danger of repeating them, could hardly prescribe leniency. Tyson will now have some time to reconsider.

It is not a happy time for those who like to believe an athlete can be an admirable figure on or off the field of dreams. In early March a woman accused three New York Mets players, including star pitcher Dwight Gooden, of raping her a year ago in Gooden's Florida spring-training home. Last week three other women brought an $8.1 million suit against Mets pitcher David Cone, charging him with various sexual outrages, including masturbating in front of one of them in the Shea Stadium bullpen in 1989. This woman says that as she left the bullpen Cone told her, "You're a big baby. You're not invited to showtime anymore." Cone and his accused teammates deny the allegations. In angry support, 31 Mets players have declared they will no longer speak to the media.

This means, said baseball commissioner Fay Vincent, that they are not speaking to the fans, and "the fans own the game." But fans also think they own the athlete; it makes them possessive and protective. Some are suspicious of women -- sports groupies -- who sue wealthy athletes. Outside the Indiana courthouse last week, a Tyson admirer carried the sign ANOTHER GOLD DIGGER PREYS ON IRON MIKE. Other fans, who are sympathetic to women's issues, simply will not be deprived of the winners who for all their sins give sport its snap and thrill. Can we forget this seamy stuff, the fans plead, and get on with the game?