32-year-old Butterbean, nee Eric Esch weighs 315 pounds and boasts a record of 53-1-2 with 40 knockouts. All of his fights are as one-sided as the second Louis-Schmeling fight. Or deer hunting. Watching a Butterbean fight is like sitting in the bleachers at the Indy 500 waiting for the wheels to come off. Going up against the Bean is the most exquisite form of self-torture this side of a guy who lies on a bed of nails or walks on hot coals. He rules the four rounders the way Torquemanda ruled Inquisition.

His fan club is astonishing. Some say as many as 300 worship at his shrine. His e-mail at boxerbean@aol.com is loaded with letters from fans who want to see Butterbean Vs Mike Tyson. Since Bean's extreme sirloin and lack of endurance keeps him from accepting fights that extend past four rounds, the fight could be held in a phone booth. I can see it now, switchboards flashing, put you on hold, sell-out crowd, lots of pre-publicity, Thrilla-in-Minilla-type of hype.

People who want the fight point out that on June 26, 1999, in his third pro fight, the "King of the Four Rounders" knocked out Peter McNeely in one round. The fight, are you ready for this? -- was for the IBA superheavyweight title. Farces like this reduces boxing to the level of pro rassling. It encourages a whole new generation of circus-atmosphere fights with Indian dances and Zulu drums. The National Anthem disgraced by rock singers. George Washington would be mortified.

On August 19, 1995, when Don King decided McNeely was the No. 1 contender ( are you listening Lennox Lewis?) Tyson also stopped him in one. Strike a blow for tradition. I thought the Floyd Patterson-Pete Rademacher title fight was a joke. Mike Tyson vs. Marvis Frazier. Or Michael Spinks. Primo Carnera vs. anybody.

The Butterball-McNeely sham proved that there is nothing sacred anymore. Scratch matches on the Mona Lisa. Boo Motherhood and the Boy Scout movement. Take prayer out of schools. Burn the American flag.

Tim Witherspoon, Buster Douglas, Reddick Bowe, Pinklon Thomas, Ron Lyle, Michael Dokes, Gerrie Coetzee. You might not remember them but they were all the class of boxing at one time. Joe Louis might be unimpressed. Rocky Marciano would call them wimps. But most of these guys were rough hombres -- and they had police blotters to prove it.

My point is this: why not a Butterbean -Tyson fight? History deserves a little fun. This one is a natural. Both Tyson and Butterbean are crowd pleasers. The Ringling Brothers would have put them in the center ring, right between the elephant act and the clowns. I can't imagine Don King letting this one get away since math is his strong suit. This fight could be the mother lode of boxing. I'm all for it! The winner could fight Bonecrusher Smith for the right to fight Larry Holmes for the right to fight whoever Don King wants to be heavyweight champion for the moment. If Lennox Lewis calls put him on hold.

Primo Carnera? He was a piker compared to Butterbean. In case you are unfamiliar with "The Ambling Alp," from 1930 to 1933 his string of quick kayos read like Mad Dog Coll's hit list. He won the heavyweight title from aging Jack Sharkey in six rounds on June 29, 1933. A year later, when Max Baer got through with him, Carnera's face looked like suet pudding. A masterpiece of hideous deformity, conceived by a mad scientist. The same thing happened to Billy Fox and Chuck Davey when they faced opponents who could not be bought.

Boxing is unique. It has a habit of repeating itself. Carnera died in 1967, but now we have Butterbean. What Carnera did in the 30s, the Bean is doing today. He's making suckers of us all. But don't question his right to do it. The appellate courts, whenever asked to rule on law and order, has always ruled against the victim. The Constitution, they seem to think, is there to protect the bad guys.

And so, ladies and gentleman, Butterbean just sits there lapping up the calories, living the good life and laughing all the way to the bank --he has gone from $600 club purses to $40,000-and-up paydays in five years. Never mind that he is as out of shape as King Farouk. Or Tony Tucker on his best day. He just keeps on rolling along like old man river.

Better I should tell you Audie Murphy was really a ribbon clerk in the Army than to tell you the Bean's reputation lulls on trumped-up wins. Dives if you will. Tank jobs, Herman Taylor used to say. If you believe otherwise, well, then you must believe the Kentucky Derby is a hat. Or the Liberty Bell is not all it's cracked up to be.

If they ever make a movie about Butterbean & Company, they could call it "The Gang that Couldn't Shoot Straight." Michael Kaplan, the federal judge who took Lennox Lewis' WBA belt away, could be the producer. Don King would be the consummate director. The perfect script could be the Bean barnstorming the county in tent shows, challenging all comers in between Don King's spiels. Bourgeois moneygrubbers coming out of the woodwork with bogus offers of simoleons to "anyone who can stay three minutes with Butterbean." No way could it lose money. Clint Eastwood said it: "There's always room for another outlaw movie."

Butterbean scored one of his fastest knockouts on March 19, 1996. His opponent was a convicted bank robber named James Baker ( 1-6 (1 KO). The fight lasted 18 seconds. "I knew when I stepped into that ring that I wasn't going to go more than one round," said Baker who collected $1,000 for laying down. "That was already decided."

Butterbean denied the fight was fixed. It was a case of are-you-going-to-believe-me-or-your-eyes? Long Beach, Calif., was not only embarrassed, it was insulted. They blacklisted both fighters.

But Butterbean needed Long Beach like a duck needs an umbrella. He continued to knock out opponents --about one every six weeks. He went from being the Unknown Soldier of boxing to a star attraction. But on the way to the fat farm he helped make a travesty of the sport of boxing. It's not all Butterbean's fault. The roar of the crowd let that happen. Butterbean laughed all the way to the refrigerator.

Baker was only one of the carefully selected imposters who helped turn Butterbean into a boxing marvel. George Linberger, Ken Craven, Patrick Graham, Troy Roberts, were all recent victims who failed to go even three rounds. Its too bad Kate Smith or Laird Cregar aren't with us anymore. They might get a shot.

Butterbean denies he has ever knowingly been involved in a "fixed" fight. "I wouldn't say I remember anybody taking a dive," he says. "If anybody in my corner ever came up with that, I'd fire them. They'd be gone, including my manager."

His handlers admit some of his opponents laid down. But not for money. Out of fear. It is their contention that Butterbean looking at you from across the ring inspires fear on the part of the foe. Like Crazy Horse on horseback or Patton in a tank. Who wouldn't freeze at the sight of a live prehistoric beast ?

No matter how you cut the deck the joker will always be there. But that doesn't seem to bother the American public. They watch TV shows about Charles Manson and Jack the Ripper with open-mouth with admiration. They marry people on death row. Americans don't cheer for the cops anymore. They love hold-up sprees. Bonnie and Clyde's. The looting of art treasures. I tell you the gods of boxing have smiled on Butterbean and he is slicking the American sporting public as surely as any embezzler who ever took a plane to Mexico with the bank receipts.

But then, rooting for the bad guys has became part of the America Lexion.

To his credit, Butterbean has parlayed his bald and obese form into several guest appearances on television. In 1996 he appeared on the Jay Leno show just before he knocked out Billy McDonald in 2:16 of the first round at the Grand Olympic Auditorium.

"Jay inspired me into the first-round knockout," the Bean said. "I wish he would be at every one of my fights."

Butterbean broke into the business as a brawler in Toughman contests. He swarmed over his opponents like a monsoon raking down Everest. He made coffee nervous. He was even money against an avalanche. When the referee asked if there were any questions, one guy said, "Yeah, where's the hell's the nearest exit?"

He turned pro in 1994, knocking out several opponents. He caught the eye of USA and ESPN bawanas. Listen to what HBO commentator Larry Merchent had to say about the Bean:

"He's a sweet, likeable guy, but he can fight."

And that's the shortest speech Larry ever made in his life.

According to California Boxing Commissioner Dean Lohuis, the Bean's climb up the ladder is speckled with more fraudulent matches than Walter Mitty had dreams. Commenting on the Baker fight he said, "That was a farce. Baker was a joke. He just rolled over."

Its no secret that promoters work to build records of crowd-pleasing fighters to secure big-money title scraps. Ike Williams told me some fighters take the fall for money while others because they don't want to risk injury. Jersey Joe Walcott's second fight with Marciano falls under suspicion. Few experts believe Ali's phantom punch floored Liston. Give me a break. Listen knocked senseless by an Ali punch? This was a guy who was so mean his daddy chained him to the bed when company was coming.

Baker said he got out of there quickly because he didn't want the police in Missouri to see him on television and realize he had violated federal parole by crossing the state line.

"No one paid me to throw the fight," said Baker.

As it turned out, his parole office did see him and he went back to jail. Chalk one up for the good guys.

In April of 1996 Butterbean scored his 18th win against an imposter billed on the card as Jack Ramsey. Missouri boxing commissioner Tim Lueckenhoff recognized Bean's opponent as Darryl Becker, an ill-fated heavyweight whose record was 0-12. Becker hit the canvass in the first from a blow not even radar could pick up. Lueckenhoff said, "He took a dive." Becker is now "Mad Dog" Becker among the weird grotesqueries that call themselves "rasslers."

Becker denies going into the tank. Throw him in a dungeon. Nail him to a cross. Cut off his right hand. He'll still deny fighting as Jack Ramsey, although videotape evidence proves otherwise.

In April of 1996 The Bean registered victory 19. Richard Davis lost on a first round TKO. It was televised on USA. "I've never told anyone this," Davis whispered. "I just didn't get up. I could have gone further...that's all I'm saying." Fast forward the tape. Is that Andrew Galota talking?

Bill Duncan, a club fighter was the Bean's 29th victim. He quit in round 2. Oklahoma records list the suspension as "medical." But Jim Gasso, the then-Oklahoma boxing administrator, said Duncan was suspended because he took a dive.

Butterbean can't recall the fight. He can't remember Ramsey or Becker. But he does allow that some of his opponents probably went in the tank without his knowledge.

"It's possible," the Bean tells you. "I mean, I know opponents that that's all they do."

Contrary to rumors, Butterbean says he is not contemplating fighting Mike Tyson. Ironically, he has opted to follow Primo Carnera's footsteps into pro rassling. On February 10, 1999 a sell-out crowd witnessed his pro debut. He won by disqualification over villain Mark Meiro, who clobbered him with a chair. Meiro was supposed to hit him with a prop chair but he picked up the wrong chair and sent Butterbean into limbo.

Bean was as happy with the payday as a dog locked in a butcher shop. He got $50,000 and a promise of more to come.

The Bean belongs in pro rassling. He's a throwback to the gladiatorial games. You picture Augustus Caesar, or Julius, giving him the "thumbs down," and never flinching as Butterbean indulges needless cruelty on his helpless opponent.

Besides, boxing spectators don't have the thrill of looking up from their mustard dog and seeing a chair coming at them. A sweaty behemoth landing in their lap. Now, on cable, they can watch Butterbean and Ogie the Giant fighting like two peevish hippopotami over the rights of an African water hole.

Shed no tears for Butterbean. It happens to the best of them. When father time catches up with you you go from "the Yankee Clipper" to "Mr. Coffee." *****

A Bit About Bill Kelly