Water is poured over Mike Tyson's head after a public workout session Wednesday at the Aladdin. Over the hill and in need of money, the 40-year-old former heavyweight champion has begun training for a series of exhibition bouts but acknowledges he "truly hates fighting." Photos by John Gurzinski. Former heavyweight champ Mike Tyson works with trainer Jeff Fenech on Wednesday at the Aladdin. A throng of picture-taking fans and media surrounds Mike Tyson as he makes his way through the Aladdin after his training session.

You can imagine the fun Shakespeare's pen would have had with Mike Tyson's life, save that part about a story leading to the death of a man of high estate.

Tyson is very much alive.

Other than that, you can pretty much sprinkle in all those tragic ingredients that compel so many to continue to be enormously fascinated with one of the most flawed and self-destructed sports figures in history.

We're a little twisted this way -- nothing excites us like a fallen champion with a hideous tattoo across one side of his face, if only to rejoice in the fact we're not him.

The scene: Hundreds were crammed three lines deep around a boxing ring Wednesday and you would have sworn it was some infomercial for cell-phone cameras. They couldn't stop pressing those tiny buttons, couldn't stop capturing those images. They couldn't stop cheering his name, couldn't stop straining to see if Macbeth could still throw a punch.

I'm not making this up: One woman cried, meaning it's official that the world has gone completely insane.

Tyson began what will be public training sessions for a series of exhibition bouts of which he couldn't identify dates or venues or opponents, which makes the entire charade all the more classic. Reports have suggested he might box on a Pride Fighting Championship mixed martial arts card, although Tyson didn't confirm that (or much of anything else).

He will skip and jab and sweat Monday through Saturday -- hey, even the Big Guy upstairs needed rest -- from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on the mezzanine level of the Aladdin/Planet Hollywood Resort.

In a little over five minutes Wednesday, the man who in 1986 became the youngest heavyweight champion in history but who hasn't fought since June 2005 and who lost three of his last four matches offered these thoughts:

"I'm just here getting in shape. I'm not a fighter. I truly hate fighting. I don't really train anymore. I have a bad taste in my mouth from fighting. I just live my life and try to survive out there. I'm always looking to make a buck, like anyone else. I just fight for money. I get a little uncomfortable with crowds of people. It's weird. I'm looked at by people as the (heavyweight champion), but I don't live that life anymore because of the mistakes I made. It's different being that guy among blue-collar people. I can't think or dwell on (the past) because then I can't be the person I want to in life. Just a simple guy. Hell no, I couldn't (fight for the championship again). I have too many bad habits and demons. It's nice seeing and talking to you guys, though."

Sounds crazy, but right back at ya, Mike.

What is it about this guy that we can't let go?

Why am I convinced people will flock to these workouts, and not because the bar next to the ring serves better martinis than elsewhere or the slot machines surrounding it are any looser?

The allure Tyson has held over so many for so long is just as evident now when he is 40 and riding the bus than when he was heavyweight champ at 20 and deciding between a Ferrari or Bentley, just as strong when he's over $30 million in debt than when he was earning $400 million.

Is it that he has proven a time or 20 to be a nut-job and we're waiting for the next time he says something crude about women or decides a nose looks more appetizing than an ear?

Is it because we're bored with boxing and can't relate to a heavyweight division so dominated by Russians that rumors are floating about a Baryshnikov-Gorbachev showdown?

Or is it this: The more tragic a story, the more times its main character exhibits outrageous behavior or adds to a lengthy police record, the more pitiful it all becomes.

And in those times, the more we can't look away.

"I still think people think back to his early childhood, to having nothing, to losing so many people close to him in his life, and really feel for him," said Sue Roberts, 46, visiting from England. "It's that poor boy fighting story. I just want to mother him and make him better. We bought satellite television just to see him fight years ago. I would wake up at 4 a.m., run downstairs, watch him for those 90 seconds, see the knockout and run back upstairs to bed.

"I've always had an affinity for him. I don't know the man. He doesn't know me. But it's just sad. That's all I can say. It's a sad, sad thing. I hate to see him have to do things like this out in public. I don't like that they're having to pull his T-shirt down so you can't see his belly. It's quite heartbreaking to me. He was the best of our generation. The best. I love him. I love the man."

Then the tears began to well.

You can't make this stuff up. Bill Shakespeare would have had a field day.

Ed Graney's column is published Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.