"Bush's no-nonsense, bull-rushing offensive style was simply smothered by a surprisingly strong Kerry."

Is the title above my assessment of the last debate? Sort of. Actually, it's how one Las Vegas boxing rag assessed the first Tyson-Holyfield fight. But it think it fits—I just switched the names. Sound ludicrous? Bear with me.

Many Big Media pundits covered the presidential debates with the argot of boxing, which is of course traditional. It's in fact a tradition that goes back to the beginning of democracy, to classical Athens. Several ancient writers make this comparison, including Plato who has his dramatic character Socrates describe arguments with sophists in pugilistic terms. The term "stasis," a term of art in Greek and Roman rhetoric (Cicero made much of it), refers to the specific issue on which a debater chooses to clash with his opponent; the term originated in Greek boxing, where it was a term of art indicating the stance a boxer took when the fighting began.

It's taken me a while to understand what sort of fight this has been. Kerry clearly had a strategy that spanned the three debates. While Bush approached each debate like it was a different bout, trying out different strategies in each, Kerry looked like he was fighting three, albeit long and grueling, rounds. And he stuck to his game.

The whole thing, all three debates taken as one, reminds me of that 1996 title bout between Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, where Holyfield took the WBA Heavyweight belt. In the rematch, you'll recall, a frustrated and deranged Tyson bit the top of his opponent's ear off, summarily disqualifying himself, and more or less ending his career. But the first fight was the really interesting one, and it bears some similarity to what we've seen over the last couple weeks.

At the time of the first fight, Tyson had never had to go more than 10 rounds in a single bout. Like Bush, he was a no-nonsense straight ahead figher; and like Bush, he was used to winning. But on that November night in Las Vegas, things changed. Holyfield, a boxer with a good record but hardly an exciting fighter, and not an especially charismatic media figure, changed things.

In 1996 it was easy to like Mike. And in some ways it's easy to like W., who is similarly capable of childlike, or childish, moments of self-revelation which under some circumstances are not hard to find endearing. But this should not lull us into forgetting that both fighters, Tyson the boxer and Bush the orator, bring a focused brutality to bear in their respective arts.

Bush's "you can run but you can't hide" is pure bull-rushing braggadocio, and his ad hominem attacks—"can't trust him," "has no credibility," "most liberal senator in Washington," etc.—are the stuff of a brawler. You could see Bush crouching, waiting for Kerry to convolute himself with some sophisticated combination, or open himself up gangly-like with another phrase like "global test," so that Bush could rush in and uncoil some of those sharp, patriotic uppercuts.

But when Bush came charging, Kerry managed to tie him up, and even push him around a little bit. The pundits wanted to see a knockout, a brawl, and certainly if things had gone that way Bush would have won. Bush is a debater who thrives on aggression, which is why, when he's being outclassed in the ring, he reverts, as he did even tonight in many of his answers, to the emphatic epithet, when more artful combinations are not landing. Much has been made of Kerry's "serenity" in these debates, his "Zen-like" demeanor. And that again reminds me of Holyfield, who didn't allow Tyson to drag him into a brawl, who didn't take the bait, who fought a smart, if unglamorous, fight—a fight to win.

Holyfield the boxer knew he had better stuff, and he knew that his opponent would bluster and charge. He respected Tyson well enough to know that he needed to stay crisp, nothing too fancy, and tie him up on the inside. Kerry the debater was equally skillful, workmanlike, and he didn't indulge in sustained circumspection, respecting his opponent's facility for cutting into slack or indulgent rhetorical gestures. It paid off. Glamorous? No. Satisfying to Big Media bloodlust? No? But maybe just good enough to garner the, let's hope undisputed, title three weeks from now.