Mike Tyson. Something happens when you read that name. You have an immediate, emotional reaction. He is boxing's most well-known, clearly defined, and marketable character. You know who he is and you have feelings about him.

Many hate him. They think of him as an incorrigible criminal. A rapist who has had more chances in life than most, and blew every one of them.

Many love him. They think of him as an all-action fighter whose fights usually end violently and decisively. They remember of him as boxing's savior in the late-1980's, and feel indebted to him for it.

Many feel sorry for him. They think of him as an exploited street kid, someone who never really had a chance. A lost soul who never had anyone of real consequence in his life consider his humanity before they considered his money-making potential.

Mike Tyson proved again this last Saturday night that he is nothing if not a pure puncher. In the 49 seconds he was in that Memphis ring against "The Black Rhino" Clifford Etienne, he looked sloppy and a little desperate. But a sloppy, desperate Tyson is a dangerous fighter indeed. He can end a fight with either hand.

In this case it was a right hand to Etienne's chin. It was that same right hand that won his fights against Frans Botha and Andrew Golota. It was the left hook that took care of Lou Savarese. Based in part on those decisive knockouts of top 20-type heavyweights, Tyson created demand for his first shot at heavyweight champ Lennox Lewis. The idea of putting Mike in with the fragile-chinned "Black Rhino," was to once again create demand for a crack at the title.

I remember reading a quote from Tyson, it must have been in 1986, before he was champ. At the time he was a heavyweight phenom of the caliber not seen since the days of a young Joe Louis. He was scaring opponents stiff and leaving them unconscious. Tyson had scored a bunch of consecutive knockouts with his left hook, and when asked if the hook was his best punch, the 19-year-old prodigy said something to the effect of "no, actually my right hand is my best punch, I just can't seem to catch anyone with it because I hit them with the hook first and they keep falling down."

Back then Tyson was so much more than a pure puncher. He had lightening fast hands and feet, a carefully orchestrated game-plan and excellent technique for such a short, aggressive heavyweight. People looked at Tyson back then and saw a figure who frightened the best of the biggest fighters in boxing.

But when I look at Mike Tyson now, and when I now think of him even then, I feel sorry for him. He is not some figure of great strength. In fact, he is not strong. He is too easily convinced that he can be beaten. Buster Douglas convinced him. So did Evander Holyfield and Lennox Lewis. Yes, he continued to charge those fighters, even in the face of savage punishment, but he did so as what boxing people call a "game loser." Sure, he didn't physically quit (except in the Holyfield rematch), but he quit mentally and emotionally long before those fights were physically concluded.

There is a big difference between the way a Holyfield or an Arturo Gatti fight on in the face of adversity, and the way Tyson does. Fighters like Holyfield and Gatti never emotionally give up on themselves. They press forward with the belief that they can win. Tyson never gave me that feeling. Watching Tyson press on in a fight that looks hopeless, gives me the feeling that he is simply going through the motions. Tyson fights on because that is what he thinks fighters are supposed to do -- his heart isn't really in it.

But Mike Tyson is not without strength either. After all, there are many fighters who cannot or will not press on in the face of continued punishment in a fight they figure to lose. Tyson has taken some epic beatings.

Teddy Atlas recently told me about the first time he watched Tyson in the ring. Teddy was famed trainer Cus D'Amato's apprentice at the time in Catskill, and the two were evaluating a 12 1/2 year old Tyson. Teddy told me that Tyson pressed forward throughout his sparring session despite being out-boxed by the adult light heavyweight who had brought him to Catskill for the evaluation -- Bobby Stewart.

Teddy told Cus that the key to training Tyson from a psychological standpoint would not be to convince Mike to act brave, but rather to convince him to be brave. To convince Mike emotionally that he was in fact already doing the hard part -- fighting forward into the teeth of the punishment. Teddy felt that Mike had to put his heart into it -- that he had to believe in himself, in his ability to not only walk into adversity, but to overcome it.

Clifford Etienne is not a lot for a big-punching heavyweight to overcome. Of course, Lennox Lewis is, and Mike Tyson knows it. He said as much after he knocked Etienne out. He admitted that he is not ready for Lewis, and that he is not interested in taking another beating at the hands of the heavyweight king. He wants to get ready. He wants at least two more fights before Lewis to do it. "I need to get my life together," Tyson said.

I look at Mike Tyson and see someone who thinks of the end of his boxing career as the end of his life. Its not that he loves boxing so much that he can't imagine going on without it. No, it's that he needs money, and a lot of it. He needs money to pay the outrageous multi-million dollar divorce settlement awarded his latest ex-wife. He needs money to pay off debts to the government and Showtime. He needs money to sustain an extravagant lifestyle that he probably does not even know how to curtail. A desperate Tyson is dangerous indeed, perhaps ultimately most dangerous to himself.

The end of his boxing life and his natural life will likely be one and the same. Larry Holmes said years ago that Tyson would wind up either in jail or dead. Tyson has already done time. And he'll be fighting until the day he dies. Given his recklessness and desperate circumstance, how far off can that day be? He has never been brave enough to put his whole heart into winning, to believe he could win when winning seemed impossible.

Today, more than even all those years ago in Catskill, Mike Tyson needs to be brave. Fight a few more fights against a few more no-hopers, pay off his debts and retire with something for himself. Be brave enough to say no to those around him who are pushing him towards another massacre at the hands of Lennox Lewis.

Were Tyson actually brave, he might snatch a life victory from what seems like certain defeat. But as usual, his heart is not in it -- he doesn't believe he can do it. He is pressing forward, into the teeth of the punishment, just going through the motions. A game loser.

Max Kellerman is a studio analyst for ESPN2's Friday Night Fights and the host of the show Around The Horn.