Much like the resurrection of old monsters like George Foreman and Sonny Liston, it really was the hyperbole it claimed to be.

In the 50 years before Tyson's late 1980s reign, heavyweight only had a few boogeymen in Foreman, Liston, Joe Frazier and Joe Louis. The way Foreman and Liston coldly tore through opponents was somehow more menacing, however. Before Tyson became a caricature of himself, the same ice ran through his veins.

Not long before he was dethroned by James “Buster” Douglas, Tyson became more openly combative and aggressive in interviews. Pre and post-fight remarks increasingly focused on severely injuring and killing opponents, who were “just as good as dead.” If anything, the Douglas loss just dialed up the rhetoric to 11.

“I’m still the best fighter in the universe,” Tyson told reporters when he bounced back from being knocked out with a win over Henry Tillman, who twice kept him out of the 1984 Olympics.

When Tyson scheduled a fight against dangerous contender Donovan “Razor” Ruddock for March 18, 1991 at the Mirage Casino in Las Vegas, nobody could understand why the former champion would risk life, limb and a potential chance at regaining the title. Everyone thought Tyson would take the easiest path back when a Douglas rematch eluded him and “Buster” was defeated by Evander Holyfield.

Ruddock’s horrifying knockout of former WBA champion Michael Dokes in 1990 shook even viewers to their boots, and it was the cause of most pundits’ concerns. At that point Dokes’ only losses were to Holyfield and Gerrie Coetzee, and with the aid of some downright reckless refereeing, Ruddock almost punched his head clean off.

Tyson and Ruddock were actually supposed to fight before the Douglas debacle, back in late 1989. Ruddock had just defeated Tyson’s sparring partner James Broad and ex-WBA champ James “Bonecrusher” Smith, and Tyson-Ruddock was dismissed as “a second-rate attraction” by writer Wallace Matthews, and most of the boxing world, at that point. A Tyson injury dashed the fight back then anyway, before the Dokes situation opened some eyes.

Nobody questions the inherent danger boxing presents anymore. Few truly did in the first place anyway, but the tone in which fighters speak of each other before fights has obviously shifted in recent decades. Maybe it’s a kind of wishful thinking, or even a new-age idea that avoiding death talk makes it less likely to happen. Whatever the case, Tyson, Ruddock and many of the talking heads pondering their clash stuck with the morbid approach.

Surrounded by reporters just days before facing Ruddock, Tyson declared, “I’m going to kill him. If he isn’t dead, it doesn’t count.”

Ruddock took the threat in stride. He insisted the fight would be personal as a result of the tough words, though was still jovial and quiet in interviews, smiling through questions about his signature punch, a hybrid left hook/uppercut he called “The Smash,” and declaring his love for Bob Marley and the Wailers.

A solitary pro loss came in Ruddock’s 11th pro fight, and though it was against journeyman Dave Jaco, Ruddock later claimed it was due to his struggles with asthma. That was six years and many fights earlier, and his co-trainer Jim “Slim” Robinson had a plan to help Ruddock overcome 4-to-1 odds:

“Our strategy is like Colin Powell’s in Operation Desert Storm. We’re going to go out there and bomb the son of a bitch until he can’t take it no more.”

A close and tense opening round between them led to a lot of barely-missed punches, and a number of swings that left one or both off-balance. The force with which they tore their punches at one another made the crowd gasp. The clinch belonged to Tyson, because Ruddock simply reached out to clinch in close, almost as if he wasn’t sure what he could do there.

Ruddock ate a glancing right hand that kicked his legs out from under him toward the start of round two and it was counted as a knockdown. Both fighters initiated fouls after that, with Tyson hitting low and Ruddock continuously holding in close. Ruddock simply didn’t do enough to argue the round shouldn’t have been a traditional 10-8 knockdown round, and he kept clinching in round three, drawing a warning from referee Richard Steele.

Tyson’s combinations and body work were slick from time to time, just too sporadic. Ruddock needed space to punch, and he wasn’t getting it. Then just as he connected with a punch and positioned himself to follow up, Tyson decked him much better this time with a counter at the end of the third. Ruddock rose and recovered after the bell.

Ruddock once explained that his nickname “Razor” came from fighting in the Canadian army. According to him, his left jab used to slice opponents up like a razor.

But watching him against Tyson, it was hard to believe because Ruddock’s jab was nonexistent. Tyson was slowing down in the fourth, but was in luck as Ruddock didn’t press the issue whatsoever. In fact, he spent more energy going after Tyson when the round ended than most of the actual round.

Just as Ruddock got momentum with a few chopping punches in the fifth round, Tyson snapped his head back in return. Ruddock then stepped up with his best round in the sixth.

More sweat went flying off Ruddock’s head in round six, and through half of the round Tyson appeared to be gaining on his prey. Carelessness and timing walked Tyson into a combination that rocked him as the round drew to a close. He later admitted he was hurt, and that Ruddock “punches hard, like a mule kicks.”

Unfortunately for Ruddock, Tyson had a very good chin, had shown it a few times before, and would again. Being hurt only woke Tyson up, and in round seven was back to winging big shots as Ruddock tried to hold. Finally Ruddock apparently felt compelled to trade punches and a good fight briefly threatened to burst forth.

With Ruddock suddenly opening up, Tyson responded and did his best to push off Ruddock’s attempts to grab his gloves. In the final minute, Tyson lashed out and connected with a left-right-left combination that sent Ruddock flopping toward the ropes. Referee Richard Steele immediately stopped the fight as Ruddock huffed and puffed, shocked.

Boos started immediately, and before the fighters could even get their gloves off, writers began questioning Steele’s relationship with Tyson’s promoter Don King, and his reported previous career working for some of King’s favorite Las Vegas casinos. Worse, almost a year earlier to the day, Steele ended Julio César Chávez’s beatdown of Meldrick Taylor just two seconds before the final bell, drawing the ire of boxing fans for decades.

For once, the focus wasn’t on something Tyson did wrong or too savagely. On the contrary, Tyson was praised when he called for an immediate rematch and complimented Ruddock’s toughness and power after admitting he likely had a busted eardrum.

Tyson was “deprived of the kill,” wrote Michael Katz for The Ring.

The 1990s was a new decade with new heavyweight challenges, and everyone lost a chance to see if Tyson fit in. What everyone now knew, however, was Tyson could be sharp enough to dull “Razor” Ruddock.