Yup. It’s been 20 years since Buster Douglas sent Mike Tyson, his career, and his image splattering to the canvas in Tokyo.

For those of you not old enough to remember (I was fifteen at the time), Buster Douglas was just another chump that the most fearsome entity on the planet, world renowned heavyweight, Mike Tyson, was going to pummel in, oh, say, 20 – 30 seconds (give or take a second).

Was it an upset? No, my friends, this was not just an upset. Upset was a horse that beat famed stallion, Man-of-War (hence, coining the term). This was the universal kwisatz haderach of all upsets. Only one intrepid sportsbook would even supply an odds line for the fight in 1990. That line would go on to be just as famous. 42 – 1.

Through the miracle of DVD, ESPN has repackaged a lot of young Tyson’s old fights, and I recently reviewed BD’s beatdown of MT in all its 10 rounds of glory.

Truthfully, the fight is shocking to watch again. Tyson appears out of it before he even climbs into the ring. That’s irrefutable. Do a side-by-side comparison of Tyson’s demeanor entering the ring versus Michael Spinks in ’88, and then Buster Douglas in ’90. It’s clear and obvious when Tyson’s heart is in something, and when it isn’t.

Although, BD, himself, has been very vocal against anyone that suggests MT was out of shape that night in Tokyo, arguing that no man takes a beating for 10 round if he isn’t in superb shape. I’d agree. I struggle just to jog 2 miles a day.

As the legend attests, the major factor that lead to MT’s defeat in Tokyo began when the champ fired Kevin Rooney, the manager that had fulfilled the late Cus D’Amto’s vision and training of Mike. In place of Rooney, Mike hired a couple of hip hop dancers and an actor. That’s not a joke. These gentlemen had limited ring expertise, at best.

As evidence of this, Mike’s so-called trainers didn’t even have any “endswell” prepared for the fight (assuming, one can only guess, that a presumptive Tyson knockout was their unalienable right). Instead, by the middle of the fight, these characters were scrambling to fill a latex glove full of ice water, and apply it to Tyson’s quickly swelling eye and cheekbone. (By the eighth round, MT’s eye had swollen grotesquely shut).

Anyhow, as those that can remember recall, the tale of the fight came down to heart. One guy gets up, and one guy doesn’t.

Tyson rallies his wits and lands a world-ending uppercut in the eighth round, jarring BD to the canvas (and in some alternate universe, Tyson remains undisputed heavyweight champion). But Douglas bravely battles to his feet on the last beat of referee Octavio Meyran’s long count, and continues the brawl.

In the tenth, with his recently departed mother looking down from the heavens, BD bursts from his corner as if it were the first round, and explodes on a demoralized MT. Tyson never gets up. All the champ can do is grovel and grope around the canvas on all fours searching for his mouthpiece (while his own long count expires).

Today, BD is not an eloquent or even charming speaker. Most retired boxers aren’t. When recently interviewed about the 20th Anniversary, BD did not sound like a man at peace with his life’s accomplishments, and continued to be truculent and defensive about his career being labeled a one-hit wonder.

Buster. You proved everything you needed to prove on February 11, 1990. You toppled the strength of Rome during the height of the Julius Caesar era (as opposed to Evander Holyfield who accomplished the feat against Constantine years later). You’re the stuff of myths and legends. Sometimes, a moment defines a man.

Pax tecum.