MEMPHIS -- If you could guarantee me that for 12 rounds, the fists of Mike Tyson will never touch the chin of Lennox Lewis, I would bet my house, my cars and -- dare I say it? -- my childrens' college fund that Sunday morning will find the heavyweight title safely in the hands of the man who held it Saturday night.

But Lennox Lewis is going to get hit, and hard.

Tickets, anyone?

MEMPHIS -- The Tyson-Lewis fight, officially hyped as "the greatest fight of all-time,'' has so far proved to be something less at the box office. Promoters admit that the "instant sell-out'' announced the day after tickets went on sale in April, is now at least 2,000 seats short. And in fact it may be even worse than that. According to sources involved in the promotion, Lennox Lewis has returned at least 3,500 of the 4,000 tickets he took from promoters, expecting to sell them to fans in England. That represents some $3 million worth of expected revenue not collected. And all week long, the classified ad page of the local newspaper, the Memphis Commercial Appeal, has run dozens of ads offering fight tickets at less than face value. "Even if we don't sell out, we've already sold more tickets than they would have sold in Las Vegas,'' said Brian Young, one of the local promoters. The Pyramid holds 19,185 people. The original site for the bout, The Mandalay Bay Hotel, has a 12,000-seat arena. Part of the problem is that ticket prices are simply too high. The $2,400 pricetag for a ringside seat would pay three month's rent on a luxury two-bedroom apartment in downtown Memphis. "The prices of the ringside seats are probably too high for this part of the country,'' said Shelly Finkel, Tyson's manager. "But I'm sure we'll more than make up for that on the pay-per-view.'' --Wally Matthews

The only question left is how many times, and how hard.

And how much of it Lewis will be able to take.

Lewis' history says, not a hell of a lot.

Get ready to choke on that bagel and coffee on Sunday morning.

Judging from what I saw from Tyson at Thursday's weigh-in -- and what I've seen from Lewis over the past 13 years -- the heavyweight title is about to change hands once again.

And probably quickly.

Forget about what the scales said and what the recent form shows and what Tyson's increasingly bizarre behavior seems to indicate.

Consider Tyson and Lewis at their separate weigh-ins to have been similar to thoroughbreds prancing around the paddock before the race.

Both looked to be fit and ready.

But one was calm almost to the point of sleepiness.

The other was bright-eyed, on the muscle, seemingly eager to run.

Or, in Tyson's case, to fight.

"I'm just ready to get it on, to crush this guy's skull,'' Tyson said, after weighing in at a surprisingly high 234½ pounds.

He was cheerful, even giddy. He seemed to be relishing the prospect of committing mayhem, and eager to do it as soon as possible.

"I'm just praying he don't die of a heart attack,'' Tyson said. Then he repeated the line, punctuated by a pointing index finger, to make sure interviewer Jeremy Schaap caught his meaning.

But on this day, there could be no misunderstanding what was going through Tyson's mind.

Weighing in three hours after Lewis had scaled 249¼ (Tyson's camp contended the scale was five pounds heavy), Tyson virtually burst through the curtains behind the scale. Insolently chewing gum a wad of gum, he tore off his white tank top and jumped onto the scale with both feet. He shadow-boxed, rolled his shoulders, pumped his fists into the air.

If the fight had been scheduled for that moment, I have no doubt about who would have won.

"This fight is normal for me. It's just a fight,'' Tyson said. "It's a party, so to speak.''

It could be a very short party.

One of the main reasons this fight is interesting is that each man's strength directly counters the other's weakness.

On the one hand, you have Lewis' size and reach and ability to use both to keep an opponent at bay, as he did with the Tyson-like (in stature anyway) David Tua. That seems to work against Tyson's tendency to lose confidence and power as a fight drags on.

But on the other hand, you have Lewis' chin, which was shattered by single punches from Oliver McCall, a former Tyson sparring partner, and Hasim Rahman, a glorified clubfighter, and severely rattled by the likes of Shannon Briggs and Frank Bruno.

Combine that with Tyson's remaining punching power and Lewis' tendency to back up -- which to Tyson is like dangling a porkchop in front of a wolf -- and you have all the ingredients for a shocking, and at the same time, utterly predictable, KO.

Of course, if the fight goes into the late rounds and the influence of the corners becomes a factor, you are looking at a mismatch.

Trainers don't come any better or smarter than Emanuel Steward. A match of wits between he and Stacy McKinley -- or Ronnie Shields, for that matter -- would be about as competitive as a fight between Tyson and Laila Ali.

But while Steward has clearly improved Lewis, he hasn't been able to correct his one essential flaw. In fact, no one could.

Trainers can change a fighter's style and on certain nights, a fighter's approach.

But no one can change a man's nature.

Lewis' nature is to be cautious. This is prudent and advisable in most things, even most fights. But it is fatal against Tyson.

If Evander Holyfield taught us anything, it is that one beats Tyson by moving toward him, not away from him. Tyson has never reacted well to pressure, or smothering, or being hit hard, especially early in the fight.

The problem with Lewis is, it takes him several rounds to warm to his task. Even in some of his most spectacular KOs -- the 1992 knockout of Razor Ruddock that established him as a force to be reckoned with, for instance -- Lewis began tentatively. In his most recent fight, the rematch with Rahman last November, Lewis was extremely wary until he realized, somewhere around the third round, that his surprise conqueror posed no real threat.

If he takes that much time to get comfortable against Tyson, Lewis has made his own bed. And lie in it he will.

"Whenever Lennox feels threatened, he's dangerous,'' Steward said this week. "And in this fight, he feels threatened.''

As well he should. On Thursday, Mike Tyson seemed ready, willing and able to give him the fight of his life.

If that holds up until Saturday night,prepare for a change of champion come Sunday morning.

Wally Matthews is a veteran boxing writer who has covered the Sweet Science for two decades.