Mike Tyson trained to be ‘Baddest Man on the Planet’ under the legendary Cus D’Amato and became boxing’s knockout artist and undisputed champion

Mike Tyson might be 54, but he is ready to rumble again.
The so-called 'Baddest Man on the Planet' has a legacy as one of the most fearsome heavyweights of all time, but there was one man who could instil fear into the world's most intimidating man - his legendary trainer, Cus d'Amato.
While Tyson contemplates a comeback to the sport he has devoted his life to, 34 years ago he was making history as the youngest heavyweight champion in history when he beat Trevor Berbick at the age of 20.
Tyson didn't have a conventional route to the top, though. It was all pretty sudden and dictated by chance and circumstance.
'Iron Mike' grew up in a rough neighbourhood in Brooklyn, New York and had been arrested 38 times by the age of 13 and his poor behaviour in various juvenile detention centres eventually landed him in Tryon School for Boys.
There, he met a juvenile detention centre counsellor named Bobby Stewart, a man who helped many of the kids with their boxing skills.
After changing his behaviour inside the detention centre and proving he wanted to learn, Tyson began training with Stewart and really made an impression.
Stewart didn't want their good work to go to waste when Tyson was released and warned the teenager there were two outcomes if he went home: more prison time or the mortuary.
So he decided to try his luck with D'Amato, a man who had guided Floyd Patterson to heavyweight glory in 1956, might take Tyson in.
By his own admission, Tyson is a complex character, but D'Amato had an immediate hold on a young man confused about who he really wanted to be, but desperate for guidance.
"I was introduced to Cus and in a second I could see that he was totally in control of everything there," he wrote in his autobiography.
"He just sucked up all the air in the room. He shook my hand and there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. He showed no emotions."
Tyson then had to spar three rounds with Stewart in front of D'Amato to impress him. Stewart had been teaching Tyson plenty of useful moves and combining that with his raw power made for a ferocious showing.
In the second round, Tyson's nose started bleeding heavily after a shot from Stewart, but he batted away D'Amato's assistant's attempts to fix him up.
The 13-year-old brawler told the the trainer Stewart had taught him that no matter what, they would go the three rounds.
After the session, Tyson, whose self esteem was low, was desperate to know what D'Amato thought.
He was taken aback when Stewart relayed the message.
“He said, ‘Bobby, barring outside distractions, that is the heavyweight champion of the world and possibly the Universe.’ But only if you continue to work like you’ve been working.
"I pushed him back. 'Come on,' I said. And then I started crying.
"'I’m telling you, that’s what he thinks of you,' Bobby said.
“'See, you’re not a scumbag. You’re not a loser. He said all that about you the first time he saw you. Do you realise what that means? But you can screw it up in one second. You’ve gotta work.'”
Tyson was ready to work and ended up living with D'Amato during his training and admitted he was tempted to rob him and his family and return to New York on many occasions. Sometimes, he did leave. But he always came back.
After three years, Tyson's mother died and D'Amato became his legal guardian. He wasn't just a trainer or a landlord, he was the father Tyson never had.
Very quickly after his first pro fight in 1985, the young New Yorker was turning heads in the boxing world with his ferocious knockout ability. Much of that Tyson credits to D'Amato for instilling quite a chilling mentality.
"I developed [my knockout ability] through Cus D'Amato telling me repetitiously over and over again to do this movement and to punch with this type of bad intentions.
"And just to have ferociousness and mean intentions whenever you throw punches and stuff. And try and punch through your opponent, not at him.
"It was some nasty stuff that I would never tell my kids to do," Tyson said.
D'Amato told the New York Times that Tyson 'makes me excited, makes me feel like a young fella.' After all, he was well into his seventies when the pair met.
But he also had a callous, stoic demeanour when he needed it. He gave Tyson the love and adulation he had never known, but he also knew how to mentally motivate and challenge him, too. Violence often equated to greatness with D'Amato.
“Cus was just a bunch of rage. You would never think he was a ferocious old man but he was. He’d talk to me about getting threats and guys putting guns to his head.
“He was big on being tough and hard, unafraid of confronting death. He’d say ‘I don’t care, I’m an animal. They had to kill me to stop me’. Cus fuelled my ‘I don’t give a f***’ attitude.”
“Every fight I had, Cus would be talking about breaking ribs, exploding livers, pushing a guy’s nose into his brain.
“But he didn’t shout it – he delivered the message cooly and calmly.
“He talked about hurting people with no feeling. If you could have heard Cus talking to me, it was scary what he wanted me to do to somebody else. Cus broke people down. I soon learned to walk on eggshells around him.”
Sadly, D'Amato died in 1985 when Tyson was 19 years old and never got to see his prophecy come true a year later on 22 November, 1986.
Who knows how Tyson's life might have played out differently if he had D'Amato by his side to guide him through the fame and fortune.
Download the talkSPORT app and listen to a huge heavyweight night of action this Saturday, with live coverage of Mike Tyson’s return to the ring against Roy Jones Jr