- Foreman passed away at age of 76 on Friday, leaving boxing world mourning
- He will be remembered for boxing success, but also a personal transformation
- Big George leaves behind seven daughters, five sons, his wife and a huge legacy
Millions of Americans will fire up their George Foreman Grills this Sunday and sizzle the meatiest hunks of beef they can find in honour of one of the mightiest punchers in boxing history.
Hundreds of millions around the world will be clinking zillions of beer cans as they remember the most famous fight of all time. The Rumble In The Jungle.
The pews at the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ in north Houston will be crammed with mourners lamenting the passing of their inspirational pastor.
Big George has gone. All of a sudden. To meet his maker. At only 76. When most of us still thought of him as indestructible even though Muhammad Ali had proved him beatable that steamy night in Zaire half a century ago.
The shock now is as startling as the eighth round punch from nowhere with which the older Ali regained the world heavyweight title by dispatching the formidable, intimidating, menacing, undefeated Foreman to the canvas. That indelible moment would never have been etched into the legend of the Sweet Science had George the young hot-shot world champion not trusted controversial and much-litigate promoter Don King’s $10million promise by signing a blank sheet of the contract for the fight during a clandestine meeting at a defunct, decaying railroad station.
Foreman took the risk after he espied a rusty public telephone still hanging from a deserted platform wall, found it be working and called his lawyer who said to him: ‘What you gotta lose, George?’
Not the 10 million bucks, since King was as good as his word. Just his world heavyweight title. After Ali rope-a-doped him into punching himself out through a seven-round barrage of massive blows, demoralised him by asking ‘that all you got, George?’ after taking the biggest punch of all from then the most feared of all fighters. And he felled him like an oak tree in the eighth.
It was more than a year before a devastated Foreman could bring himself to box again and as he would tell me down the years: ‘I needed time to find humility in defeat.’
That lesson would become part of his finding of God.
October 30, 1974 in Kinshasa is one of several life-altering dates in Foreman’s multi-faceted life as teenage mugger, carpenter, bricklayer, wannabe American footballer, world beating prize-fighter, many-a-wife-taker, prolific father, rousing preacher and kitchen cooker-maker.
At 16 he saw the light of reason and quit the street gangs to seek work by joining America’s Job Corp initiative for youngsters. A sojourn as a handyman in Los Angeles took him to a gym for aspiring footballers where he was convinced he would be better applying his size and strength in the ring.
A heavyweight gold medal at the 1968 Mexico Olympics – ‘still my most treasured memory in boxing’ he pronounced repeatedly until his death on Friday – launched him into the professional ring. A string of quick-fire victories led him to his first winning of a world title – on January 27, 1973 in Kingston, Jamaica – by knocking out the great Joe Frazier. A feat he achieved twice against the revered Smokin’ Joe.
Cometh March 17, 1977 in Puerto Rico, cometh the out of body experience which led him to his church. Foreman collapsed in his dressing room after being battered to a 15 round defeat by Jimmy Young. Of laying on the table surrounded by worried family and friends he would recall: ‘I felt a giant hand pluck me from unconsciousness. I felt physically filled by the presence of a dying Christ. Hallelujah! I rose and ran into the shower. Born again. I was filled with love and never felt the same again.’
For certain, he underwent a transformation as a human being. The anger pent up in Foreman while he was growing up amid racial prejudice in the Texas of the early 1950s developed into Grumpy George through the pre-Rumble phase of his gloved career. An ominous figure who found it necessary to present himself as a danger in public. Seemingly overnight he began changing into the affable, amiable Loveable George who charmed all with whom he came into contact.
Unless he was beating opponents into pulp. Which continued to be frequent, as he lost only five of his 81 fights. Even when he came out of retirement intent on becoming the oldest world heavyweight champion of all time on the night of November 5, 1994 on the Las Vegas Strip.
At the grand fighting age of 45 years and 299 days Old George flattened the young Michael Moorer in the 10th of what by then had become 12 rather than 15 world title rounds.
Foreman attributed that shaking of the boxing world to keeping behind his unorthodox cross-armed defence ‘until I saw the opening to throw my big old punch.’
In that he was abetted by the strange tactic to which renowned trainer Teddy Atlas committed Moorer. One of staying just on the fringe of Foreman’s firing range in the mistaken expectation that the longer the punches had to travel the lesser the impact.
Quite how that was explained to Moorer when he woke up, we know not.
Happy George continued on his merry way until he lost a split decision to Shannon Briggs on November 27 and in Atlantic City and decided that 48 years and 316 days was a good age at which to hang up the gloves for good. He took to the pulpit – with that huge smile and warm prayer which usually included the line wishing for ‘just one more day’ of a wonderful, entertaining generosity-filled life.
Which included five marriages, the last and longest lasting to Mary Joan Martelly in 1985. Seven daughters – five by various wives and two adopted – in company with his numerous grand and great-grand children helped swell the congregation at his church.
As did his five sons, all named George. The Paternal George was unique. Not unsurprisingly since he was special in so many ways.
As he said during one of our encounters down the years: ‘I won an Olympic gold medal and the world heavyweight title twice but I’m most remembered for one fight I lost. That’s me.’
Yes, that was Our George. It took two to make Rumble In The Jungle. As it took time for him to learn that when it came to making history with his ‘great friend’ Muhammad Ali, it didn’t really matter in the end who won or lost.
