LAS VEGAS -- There's only one man who can save boxing now and it's not Oscar De La Hoya, Roy Jones or Mike Tyson's shrink.

	In their second fight, Lewis was most effective throwing uppercuts and jabs at Holyfield.

It's Dick Clark, the man who flips the world's odometer every year, the man who stops 1999 from going any further.

After enduring a year in boxing like we did, we all can understand how Roberto Duran felt.

No mas. Please, no mas.

Not from that date sometime in the 1720s, when an illiterate Englishman named James Figg started teaching pugilism as a form of self-defense and Clark was still a pup, has the sport of boxing suffered a more deplorable year than in 1999.

The year ranks as an all-time low on its own, but when we stop to remember that 1999 was supposed to go down as a renaissance year in boxing, the memories of what actually transpired become that much more indigestible.

It contained few highlights, with Paulie Ayala's rousing victory over an equally riveting Johnny Tapia, Oscar De La Hoya's come-from-behind triumph over Ike Quartey and the passage of the Muhammad Ali boxing reform act the only three immediately coming to mind.

Rather than glory, the year was rife with larceny, tragedy, gluttony, stupidity. They're all ingrained aspects of the sport, but such heavy doses of them all were enough to choke a goat.

The misery happened inside the ring and out. It started almost as soon as the calendar switched from 1998 and ran through the holidays.

One event in particular cast a pall over the sport due to its potentially far-reaching consequences.

The federal government indicted IBF president Bob Lee and three of his underlings in November for accepting bribes and soliciting payments of at least $338,000 to rig their rankings and mandate fights without merit. Prosecutors claim to have mounds of evidence -- including video surveillance tapes -- to support the accusations, which could, by the time the gavel falls, implicate a myriad boxing's major players.

But all the junk that happens outside the ring always can be overcome by what goes on inside the ropes, and boxing certainly didn't help itself out in that regard either.

Tyson made his much-anticipated return in January as he fought for the first time since he chewed on Evander Holyfield in 1997. It was yet another Tyson comeback and he was successful, flooring Frans Botha for a fifth-round knockout. But Tyson was dominated until that point, leaving boxing observers disappointed.

	“	It was a disgraceful year for boxing. So much so that when the neurologically ravaged Ali played a prank on the world by announcing he was going to return to the ring, it almost seemed apropos. ”
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That was nothing compared to what happened on March 13, when Lennox Lewis met Evander Holyfield at Madison Square Garden for the first undisputed heavyweight championship fight since 1992. Lewis destroyed Holyfield -- only to be told the fight was a draw due in large part to the incompetent scoring of IBF judge Eugenia Williams, who had Holyfield ahead 115-113. Williams was never brought up on charges, but her idiocy led to state hearings and renewed scrutiny over ringside bribery (in addition to the investigation that led to the infamous IBF scandal).

The next megabout -- "If Holyfield-Lewis didn't revitalize boxing, this one certainly will" -- was the much-ballyhooed Sept. 18 matchup between De La Hoya and Felix Trinidad for the undisputed welterweight title. It was billed as the "Fight of the Millennium" but turned out to be the "Flight of the Millennium."

All animals, when confronted, use the fight-or-flight instinct to respond to the threat in front of them. De La Hoya chose the latter and ran the final three rounds, figuring he was comfortably ahead on the scorecards. Trinidad, beaten for most of the fight, wound up with a hollow decision and The Golden Boy detractors were given more reasons to call him Chicken De La Hoya.

Frustration within the sport was running high, and it was about to get worse.

Tyson, making his 164th comeback after spending time in jail for assaulting a pair of motorists following a fender-bender, wore out his welcome in Nevada and the hearts of most fans when his Oct. 23 bout with Orlin Norris ended in a no-contest.

Tyson nailed Norris with a punch after the first-round bell despite a previous warning from referee Richard Steele. Norris awkwardly crumbled to the mat and twisted his knee. He was unable to continue and, as far as the Nevada State Athletic Commission was concerned, so was Tyson. The NSAC all but banished Tyson after the ensuing hearing. Commissioner Lorenzo Fertitta told promoter Dan Goossen to "pack up Mike Tyson's bags and take his act on the road."

Less than one month later, controversy again swirled in Las Vegas. Even though many ringside witnesses felt Holyfield earned a victory in his rematch with Lewis, the man who should have won the first time was awarded a lopsided decision.

Controversy is only one of many elements that makes boxing so fascinating. Another is danger. The sport was unable to escape tragedy in 1999, as super middleweight Randie Carver and junior middleweight Stephan Johnson died from fight-related head injuries.

Boxing was marred in many other ways: Ike Ibeabuchi was arrested in July for assaulting an out-call erotic entertainer in Las Vegas; the state of Washington sanctioned a bout between a woman and a man in October (the female won); Nevada governor Kenny Guinn didn't reappoint venerable commissioner James Nave, choosing instead to return a political favor and appoint Amy Ayoub.

It was a disgraceful year for boxing. So much so that when the neurologically ravaged Ali played a prank on the world by announcing he was going to return to the ring, it almost seemed apropos.

Sadly, we can't go back in time and do it all over again. All we can do is hope 2000 will be kinder to the sport, or at least find it tolerable.

Maybe this year boxing's woes won't continue to happen like clockwork.

Tim Graham is based in Las Vegas and covers boxing for ESPN.com. His column will appear bi-weekly.