“You would think Tank is a brawler, but he really is a boxer-puncher. He moves well. He moves his head well. He can beat you all kinds of ways. He can knock you out. Or he can box you. Cruz reminds me the most of who I was. He comes at you with bad intentions. And he keeps coming at you. He gave Tank his toughest fight. Right now, I hope the younger kids wear the Tyson Pro equipment because it is the best—not because it has my name on it. My biggest concern, and my most important concern is the safety of the fighters, and to make sure they’re protected.”

Some tā moko artists differed, seeing it not as appropriative of moko but rather a hybrid of several tattoo styles; Rangi Kipa saw no Māori elements at all. The perspective of those like Te Awekotuku highlights the conflict between Māori conception of moko—which reflect a person’s genealogy—as collective property and the Anglo-American view of copyright as belonging to a single person. While Warner Bros. initially said they would investigate whether the tattoo was a derivative of any Māori works, there was no further discussion of the matter prior to the case settling.

Ever since the first fights involving YouTube stars KSI and Joe Weller back in 2017, people from all walks of life – from TikTok to music – have slipped on the gloves and stepped into the ring, with the exhibition demographic of the sport growing rapidly.

Mike Tyson’s tattoos are more than just ink; they symbolise his life’s journey through success and adversity. Each design tells a story of resilience and personal growth, reflecting the spirit of one of masters division boxing weight classes’s greatest legends. As Tyson gears up for his upcoming bout against Jake Paul, his iconic tattoos remind us of his enduring legacy both inside and outside the ring.

According to recent news stories, Mike Tyson’s tattoo artist is suing the studio behind The Hangover: Part Two for copyright violation. The Missouri-based artist, S. Victor Whitmill, created and copyrighted the design called “Tribal Tattoo” back in 2003 when he applied it to the left side of the boxer’s face.

The legal action renewed claims of cultural appropriation but also saw some Māori tā moko artists defend Whitmill. Legal scholars have highlighted how the case juxtaposes Māori and Anglo-American attitudes on ownership of images. Despite never making it to trial, the case has been widely discussed in the context of the copyrightability of tattoos, a matter which has never been fully resolved in the United States.

Plus, he has absolutely no regrets about getting the tat. “A lot of stuff happened out of this tattoo, a lot of good stuff,” he told Sports Illustrated in 2016. “Other young athletes come to me and say, ‘It’s because of you they call it the Mike Tyson.'”

The Tennesse clash with Etienne turned out to be the very last professional victory in the storied career of Mike Tyson, who went on to fall to the swords of Danny Williams and Kenny McBride in his next and last two fights to put a full stop on an iconic boxing career.

After several successful fights, Tyson came head-to-head with his next big challenger: Evander Holyfield. Holyfield had been promised a title shot against Tyson in 1990 before Douglas defeated Tyson. Instead, Holyfield fought Douglas for the heavyweight title on October 25, 1990, and beat his opponent by knockout to become the new undefeated, undisputed heavyweight champion of the world.

Missouri artist S. Victor Whitmill, who tattooed Tyson’s face in Las Vegas in 2003, brought the suit in St. Louis court seeking to block Warner Bros. from using the tattoo in ads for the film, which is due out in late May.

The gold caps on his teeth are gone, as are the frenzied trappings of celebrity: the nonstop partying, the cars, the jewelry, the pet tiger, the liters of Cristal. Mike Tyson — who was once addicted, by his own account, “to everything” — now lives in what might be described as a controlled environment of his own making, a clean, well-lighted but very clearly demarcated place. The 44-year-old ex-heavyweight champion is in bed by 8 and often up as early as 2 in the morning, at which point he takes a solitary walk around the gated compound in the Las Vegas suburb where he lives while listening to R&B on his iPod. Tyson then occupies himself with reading (he’s an avid student of history, philosophy and psychology), watching karate movies or taking care of his homing pigeons, who live in a coop in the garage, until 6, when his wife, Lakiha (known as Kiki), gets up. The two of them go to a spa nearby where they work out and often get a massage before settling into the daily routine of caring for a 2-year-old daughter, Milan, and a newborn son, Morocco; they also run Tyrannic, a production company they own. It is a willfully low-key life, one in which Tyson’s wilder impulses are held in check by his inner solid citizen.

Of course tattoos can be copyrighted. I don’t think there is any reasonable dispute about that. They are not copyrighting Mr. Tyson’s face, or restricting Mr. Tyson’s use of his own face, as the defendant argues, or saying that someone who has a tattoo can’t remove the tattoo or change it, but the tattoo itself and the design itself can be copyrighted, and I think it’s entirely consistent with the copyright law.