A changed Buster Douglas reconnects with true self

WESTERVILLE — As is evident with his return to Dayton on Friday evening for an Oregon District celebration, these are days of reconnection for James “Buster” Douglas.

The trend began a few years ago when the once-celebrated heavyweight boxing champ got back together with John Johnson, his former manager and mentor, a colorful sort who wears a dangling cross earring on his left lobe and his proud coaching connection to Woody Hayes on his sleeve.

Teamed with Johnson, a graduate assistant coach for the Ohio State football teams of the early 1970s, Douglas ascended to the heavyweight throne in spectacular fashion 21 years ago in Tokyo when he knocked out seemingly invincible Mike Tyson in what remains one of the greatest upsets in sports history. But their connection broke, and for more than 15 years they remained estranged.

Now they’ve reunited to guide the career of unbeaten 279-pound Columbus heavyweight John L. Smith. They take regular get-aways to Red Jacket, W.Va., the back-in-the-hollers boyhood home of Johnson, and the two are involved in several charitable projects in Ohio, including raising scholarship money for the children of Ohio servicemen killed in action.

Their bond is again heartfelt, something you couldn’t help but hear when Johnson’s cellphone came to life with the Buckeyes fight song as he sat down for lunch at Carsonie’s Italian eatery in Westerville.

“Ya buddy,” Johnson said quietly as Douglas told him he’d be a couple of minutes late. “Alright my man ... Love ya!”

But the affection wasn’t quite the same when Douglas made another reconnection last month at the Grand Victoria casino in Rising Sun, Ind. He was there because Smith was fighting on a boxing show. Tyson was brought in to do a meet-and-greet.

The two men had not spoken since their Feb. 11, 1990 title fight ended with the dazed Tyson crawling on the canvas, his mouthpiece hanging from his lips.

At the Grand Victoria, Douglas was eating when Tyson came up. “He walked over to me and hugged me and it was cool,” Douglas said. “I told him I liked those movies he had done. We just talked for a minute and that was it really.”

With a shrug and a smile he added: “He was inducted in the hall of fame last month, but they didn’t bring me out there like they usually do. ... Maybe that was a requirement.”

There will be no snubs this weekend. As part of the five-week Punchers & Painters celebration going on in downtown Dayton, the Color of Energy Gallery will host a free “Evening with Buster Douglas” on Friday from 7 to 9 p.m. Against the backdrop of a boxing art show, the former champ not only will talk about his fight career, but his days as the 21-points-and-10-rebounds-a-game MVP of the 1979-80 Sinclair Community College basketball team.

Thinking back on those long past days, Douglas fondly recalled Tartan Pride coach Kevin ONeill and especially remembered a girl from Prichard, Ala., he met at Sinclair.

“I fell in love down there and I was crazy about her,” he smiled. “But then I moved back to Columbus, got into boxing, and we drifted apart. ... Funny how love goes.”

Starred at Sinclair

When he gave up a promising hoops career for fisticuffs — he had led Linden McKinley to the state prep crown and then starred at national junior college power Coffeyville Community College in Kansas before Sinclair — his mother’s sisters wondered if the new love affair would fade as well. After all, the only boxer they knew was Buster’s dad, Billy “Dynamite” Douglas, a give-no-quarter middleweight contender of the 1960s, and they knew the son was nothing like the old man.

“My aunts were telling my mom, ‘Lula, I don’t know,’ ” he said with a smile. “To them I was still Butter. They used to call me Butterbean before I became Buster. And they didn’t think I had that intensity to be like Bill Douglas.”

But blessed with size and athletic talent, Buster won 23 of his first 27 bouts and got a 1987 title fight with Tony Tucker, whom he was beating decisively until he suddenly began to fade. The bout was stopped in the 10th and after that there were whispers about his desire.

“After that I was kind of written off,” he said.

Instead he won six bouts in a row and Don King signed him to fight the menacing Tyson, who was 37-0 and had just dismantled Carl “The Truth” Williams in 93 seconds.

No U.S. sites wanted what they thought would be another Tyson romp, so the bout was moved to Tokyo. Douglas was a 42 to 1 underdog and Ross Culver, the sports book manager at the Mirage, said the fight reminded him of “Secretariat running against a Clydesdale.”

A few weeks before the fight, Douglas said his mom showed up at his house: “A lot of people had been telling her, ‘Ooooh Lula, my goodness, what has Buster got himself into?’ I told her, ‘Look, I’m not worried about this guy. I’m the son of Lula and Bill Douglas. I’m not gonna back down.’ And she went back and told everybody ‘Buster’s gonna kick his butt.’ ”

Two days later, 47-year-old Lula died from a stroke. Along with that, there was enough of a rift between Buster and his dad that Billy didn’t make the trip to Tokyo. And Buster and his wife, Bertha, had temporarily separated.

And yet, he made good on that promise to his mom. He didn’t back down.

Unlike anybody prior, he dominated Tyson early, then averted disaster in the eighth when he got up from a knockdown, A round later, he closed Tyson’s eye with his jab and then in the 10th he followed a devastating upper cut with a four-punch barrage that sent Tyson to the canvas, where he was counted out.

“Along with our Olympic hockey team it will be remembered as the greatest upset of all time,” Johnson said. ESPN voted them No. 1 and No. 2 all time. Sports Illustrated ran a photo of Buster on the cover with the headline “Rocky Lives.”

“People still tell me they remember exactly where they were and what they were doing that night,” Douglas said. “A lot of people had thought it was gonna be another quick one for Tyson so they didn’t watch at the start. But round after round they saw I was still there and they said, ‘Whoa, what the hell is going on?’ ”

Although Douglas survived King’s bid to get the outcome reversed, he admits he wasn’t ready for the throne. “I wish I could get that moment back,” he said quietly. “It was huge and then ... it was gone.”

Eight months after beating Tyson, he came into his first title defense with Evander Holyfield overweight and underfocused and was stopped in three dismal rounds.

Ridicule followed and Buster became a recluse. He moved his family to Marco Island, Fla., where he spent money on various “big boy toys.” He ate and drank, ballooned to nearly 450 pounds and nearly died when he went into a diabetic coma.

Six years after the Holyfield debacle and nearly 200 pounds lighter than he’d been, he returned to boxing, won eight of nine fights and then retired in 1999 to the 58-acre Quick Jab Ranch he and Bertha have in Licking County, northeast of Columbus.

Movie in works

Although their own sons are grown, they are about to adopt a 5-year-old boy who has lived with them since he was 6 months old.

The recreation center Douglas donated in his mother’s name is still running in inner-city Columbus and — after receiving a letter from a girl who lived in a homeless shelter and begged him to make her world a better place — he’s heavily involved in developing a commercial project on 3.5 acres he bought on the Near East Side.

There’s also a movie in the works. Angelo Pizzo, best known for “Hoosiers” and “Rudy,” is working on the script.

Johnson said it will be about Douglas’ entire life, not just his boxing.

Buster likes that:

“We all have tough roads to cross — that’s part of life,” he said. “But to be able to bounce back and get your life in order, I think that shows a real championship quality.”

And that’s what he has done.

He’s reconnected with the man he really was.

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