FOR one awful moment in Las Vegas on Saturday night it seemed as if the head of Frank Bruno was going to fly off his body with the trajectory of a golf ball leaving a tee. Bruno was on the receiving end of the most naked display of violence which one human being is legally capable of inflicting on another.
Mercifully, 50 seconds into the third round of this world heavy-weight title fight, it all ended. Frank Bruno went to hospital. Mike Tyson was heavyweight champion of the world once again.
In this place, in these circumstances, Mike Tyson is your worst nightmare, a man capable of a feral viciousness, an animal with the ability to unleash a power almost beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Big Frank Bruno had come to Las Vegas to play the odds, to stay out of Tyson's reach and pick him off with stinging jabs. Big Frank Bruno stepped into the ring and forgot everything he had ever learned.
The primitive gladiatorial atmosphere which had built up in the MGM Grand Garden Arena demanded a finish as decisive and explosive as this. English supporters of Bruno, who comprised almost one-third of the 16,000 crowd, had lined the massive corridors of the MGM Hotel in the hours before the fight, swilling beer and bellowing from the high moral plane to the effect that "Tyson is a rapist, Tyson is a rapist."
By fight time, the US national anthem had been roundly booed as had the host for the evening, the philanthropist and former numbers runner Mr Don King. The atmosphere, not unlike Mr King's hair, was ugly and shot through with an electric current. The celebrity section, comprising 100 or so of Hollywood's most luminous, looked a little apprehensive.
Tyson made his entrance with an entourage of some 30 handlers who looked like a job order of hoodlums from central casting. The backs of their shiny jackets carried an explanatory note about just what attracted them to the service of the most violent man alive. "Loved by few, hated by many, respected by all..." seemed a peculiar claim to make about a convicted rapist.
The bell sounded. BOOM! POW! CRASH! From a distance the blows being inflicted on Bruno had an almost cartoonish quality about them, sledgehammer fists swinging in great arcs upwards towards the jutting chin, Bruno's head jerking backwards with the impact, springing forward again only to absorb the next blow.
Close to the ring, Tyson's power was frightening to observe. By the end of the first round, Bruno had a large cut over his left eye, by the end of the second, he looked like a frightened man, before a minute of the third had elapsed, Tyson was on his knees worshipping Allah and Bruno was on his back thinking of retirement.
Tyson is world champion again. He has pocketed $75 million for his three fights since his release from prison.
"I'm not yet at my best," said Tyson chillingly afterwards. "I still have room for improvement."
"That's cricket, old bean," said Bruno, proving that those punches were as disorienting as they looked.
As well as supplementing his own wealth and legend, Tyson has returned control of heavyweight boxing to the hands of Don King.
Tyson left on Saturday night scarcely having said a word to anybody. Don King remained behind, however, to give a half-hour lecture to the media. He had a huge smile on his face and blood splattered all down the right side of his white dinner jacket.
Somebody else's blood, of course.