From boxing monster to cuddly veteran – George Foreman was unique

Independent

23-03-2025

George Foreman was one of the fiercest and feared heavyweights in history.
There are two clear parts to the remarkable boxing life and times of Foreman, who died aged 76 this weekend, and the fighter became a world heavyweight champion in both.
The story of Foreman's return to the ring after a ten-year exile is as remarkable as his unlikely passage to Olympic glory in 1968 and his first world heavyweight title in 1973. Foreman defied the odds and in the middle of his boxing career, made millions and millions from his lean and mean grilling machine. What a life.
Foreman fought 81 times as a professional boxer, losing five in total and knocking out 68 of the 76 men he beat. He was the street kid from Houston's notorious Fifth Ward; he should have been in prison, lost to boxing, but somehow made the USA team for Mexico City and then won the gold medal. He was saved, as he said, by the sport. Big George knew a bit about redemption.
After Mexico City, he turned professional, and his reign of terror started. It is hard for people in modern boxing to understand just how scary Foreman was at the time. He was sullen, he was vicious, and he was big. He had huge dogs, he wore leather and jeans and snarled at every camera pointed his way. He was a boxing Hells Angel. There was genuine fear for his opponents.
He was unbeaten in 37 when he finally persuaded the heavyweight champion, Joe Frazier, to get in the ring with him. The fight was in 1973, in Jamaica and it was called the Sunshine Showdown. It was a massacre; Frazier was sent tumbling and flying to the canvas six times and stopped in two rounds. It is the fight where Don King, later to be one of Foreman's promoters, arrived in the limo with the champ and left in the limo with the champ: King changed sides during the fight.
Foreman changed boxing with that type of devastation. He was called an animal and a beast, and he did nothing outside of the ring to persuade people otherwise. The cuddly George was a few years away, trust me.
His two heavyweight championship defences were so brutal that I believe they should only be shown to adults and after the watershed; Ken Norton and Jose Roman lasted a total of 420 X-rated seconds and were left ruined in bloody heaps. There had never been a man like him in the ring.
When the Rumble in the Jungle was made, there were genuine fears for Muhammad Ali 's life. One British paper did a feature on the route Ali's ambulance would take from the stadium to the hospital. Foreman was a massive underdog but Ali had prepared for a beating and prepared for Foreman to tire; it was his genius that beat boxing's most dangerous champion. Foreman was broken, but he chased a rematch.
Just over two years later, after six more fights, Foreman grabbed his bible and walked off into the wilderness. He was only 28 at the time and had lost just twice in 47 fights. He lost a bout in 1977, suffered an epiphany and went wandering for 10 long years of sermons and penance. His abrupt disappearance was stunning, but his return to the ring in 1987 was even more remarkable. Foreman had become a living storybook of extremes.
There is a lot of debate about Foreman's return to the ring and there is no dispute that he had easy fights, but the opposition improved, and the dream started to show on the horizon – Foreman wanted to be heavyweight champion of the world. It was not an easy route for the now permanently smiling and approachable fighter. He was the veteran that everybody loved. The beast was tamed, it seemed.
He kept winning and beat a few good men; Gerry Cooney and Bert Cooper both went in two. In 1991, after 24 more wins with 23 knockouts, Foreman lost a world heavyweight title fight to Evander Holyfield; two years later he lost another title fight to Tommy Morrison. Foreman never stopped believing that he was getting closer to the mad dream.
Michael Moorer was unbeaten in 35, a southpaw, smart, fresh and mean. He met Foreman in 1994 in Las Vegas and was knocked out in round ten. Foreman was trailing on all cards before the single, devastating punch. Foreman was 45, the new IBF and WBA heavyweight champion of the world and the oldest heavyweight champion in history. It was 20 years after the Rumble – the demons were dead; Big George was King again.
There were a few more fights, thousands of smiling cameos, over $250m in revenue from the lean, mean grilling machine. And too many memories to ever forget. There will never be a boxing monster like George Foreman ever again.