Big George Foreman, a champion boxer and champion grill salesman (the man surely knew the uses of a cheeseburger), went to his reward Friday at 76. As I know God to be good, I’m sure that reward will be considerable. Foreman’s family announced his death, saying only that he died peacefully surrounded by loved ones. No cause of death was given.
“I was just glad to be an American. Some people have tried to make something of it, calling me an Uncle Tom, but I’m not.”
This is very sad news. Foreman was a great boxer, hard-puncher division. Very hard. He hit some opponents so hard their parents died. More a slugger than a boxer, he may not have floated like a bee, but he stung like a shoulder-fired missile. Which is basically what his punches were. Many ring-savvy observers have said Foreman was the hardest hitter in the history of the sport. Having seen his work, both live and on YouTube, I’ve no reason to question this.
Foreman’s ring style, especially in later years, featured little movement. He was a near stationary target. But a target to be approached with great caution. He was willing to trade punches. But trading with George Foreman was rarely to his opponent’s advantage.
I’ll pause here in honor of the objections many have to boxing’s brutality. Defense stipulates these complaints are legitimate. But, God forgive me, I’ve been a lifetime fan of the sweet science and regret that the sport has fallen on hard times since the 1970s, a great decade for boxing, and one in which Foreman was a major player. Foreman, especially in his second boxing incarnation, was a fine representative of a very rough trade that has included some very dodgy characters, both in and around the ring.
In addition to a great champion in the ring, Foreman was also, by all accounts, a great guy. After a pretty gnarly youth around East Texas, the young bully found God and graciousness, maturing into the amiable figure TV viewers saw hawking his soon to be famous grills, sales of which were so gaudy they made George a rich man. Who wouldn’t enjoy a grilled cheeseburger, some talk, and perhaps an adult beverage with the new George?
His exploits in the nineties, becoming, at the improbable age of 45, the oldest heavyweight champion in history, were boxing’s cover story. They helped keep interest in a sport slipping in popularity. Foreman was especially inspirational for middle-aged men. Life may not begin, as the saying goes, at 40. But by God it ain’t over either. If you don’t think so, ask Michael Moorer, who at the age of 26, entered the ring with every reason to be confident. He was facing an opponent who, as things are measured in boxing, and in most other sports, was a geriatric. Moorer’s confidence didn’t last, and he soon found himself counted out, a former champion, losing his title to a man old enough to be his father. Very unlikely outcome. Very big news.
The Heart of a True Champion
The outlines of Foreman’s unusual ring career are familiar to boxing fans, from his Olympic championship in 1968, when he was 19, his retirement from the professional game at 28, to his return to the ring and to championship in his forties. The notches on his Everlast belt include household names for boxing fans: Smokin’ Joe Frazier, Evander Holyfield, Ken Norton, Ron Lyle, just to name four. He fought three more years after his improbable championship, finally retiring for good in 2007 at 48. He returned to Houston where he had become a nondenominational minister and inspirational speaker, hawking grills to keep bread on the table and cheese on the burgers.
Foreman always said that for him his proudest ring moment was winning the 1968 Olympic heavyweight championship, knocking out Soviet boxer Ionas Chepulis in the second round of their encounter. After the win he walked around the ring waving a small American flag. This was the same Olympic year when two American track stars raised clenched fists at the playing of the national anthem in protest of the treatment of blacks in America. Foreman was questioned about this later. He said: “I was just glad to be an American. Some people have tried to make something of it, calling me an Uncle Tom, but I’m not. I just believe people should live together in peace.” Take that, Colin Kaepernick.
Foreman was a champion in the ring, a true gent, and a great American. His was a life worth celebrating. I’ll have a cheeseburger in his honor tonight. RIP, Champ.
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