Before the bell ever rang, a legend was already brewing in Brooklyn’s gritty gyms. Imagine British journeyman Billy O’Rourke—who once sparred over a thousand rounds—stepping into the ring against a boy still in braces. The juxtaposition alone is compelling: an experienced fighter, who had previously sparred with Muhammad Ali, in his prime, versus a 14‑year‑old with Olympic dreams. Yet, the result was anything but predictable.

According to Mark Kriegel’s new book, Baddest Man: The Making of Mike Tyson, the raw power of the teenage Tyson was undeniable. “I’ve been hit dead square in the face by Ali and [Tim] Witherspoon… It didn’t really hurt me. But Mike? Mike hurt me,” Kriegel narrates, Billy O’Rourke saying. In the book, O’Rourke openly acknowledged fear in a way few veterans do. He further emphasized his resilience by stating, “I sparred more than a thousand rounds and had, I don’t know, how many fights. I was wobbled a couple of times. But I was only down once in my entire career.” That single knockdown? Delivered by a 14-year-old Mike Tyson.

And O’Rourke’s comparison isn’t just name-dropping—it’s jaw-dropping—Muhammad Ali, after all, wasn’t just a heavyweight; he was “The Greatest,” revered for his timing, precision, and speed, and Tim Witherspoon, who was a two-time heavyweight world champion, was known for his raw power. O’Rourke had taken punches from both and kept standing. But young Tyson? He hurt him. That says more about Tyson than any stat sheet ever could.

Then there’s Jesus Carlos Esparza—the rugged prospect doubled over by sheer impact. “I remember getting off the canvas, thinking, What the hell was that? … I’ve never been hit that hard in my life,” Jesus Carlos Esparza shares in the book. The shock in his words speaks volumes: even hardened fighters were stunned by a teenager’s force.

The 12-year-old knockout artist: Mike Tyson’s power wasn’t built—it was born

Before Mike Tyson became the youngest heavyweight champion in boxing history, he was already laying waste to grown men in a ring, not at 18, not even 16, but at just 12 years old. The man behind the curtain in those early years, Teddy Atlas, painted a staggering picture of a kid who walked into the gym as a natural-born wrecking ball. Speaking to RingTV.com, Atlas recalled that Tyson “was knocking out fully-grown men at the age of just 12.”

This wasn’t your average pre-teen. Tyson wasn’t some scrappy featherweight tagging and running—he was a 190-pound, lean and mean force of nature, even before he’d hit puberty. Atlas described him in awe: “As far as most pure, God-given talent, raw, from the earliest stage that you saw, it would have to be a 12-year-old Tyson—who was 190lbs but no fat.” That kind of physical maturity, paired with explosive instincts, made him nearly impossible to match with boys his age. So what did his trainers do? They threw him to the wolves.

On his very first day in the gym, Mike Tyson wasn’t babied with light drills or shadowboxing. No—he was put in the ring with a 27-year-old professional fighter, fifteen years his senior. According to Atlas, “He had to box his first day with a 27-year-old man who was a professional fighter, and he was able to do that.” Not only did he hold his own, but he hurt seasoned sparring partners so often that the gym had to start hiring professionals, because there were simply no kids who could survive his power.

As Atlas bluntly put it: “Anyone who could be knocking out men when he’s 12, 13 years old is a pretty damn good puncher.” Iron Mike wasn’t groomed to be a monster; he arrived that way. The boxing world simply had to catch up.