RIP, CHAMP. 'BIG' GEORGE FOREMAN DEAD AT 76

George Foreman beamed beneath the bright midday San Antonio sun, shielding his eyes as he overflowed with enthusiasm while speaking about one of his favorite people, Muhammad Ali.

Ali wasn’t doing well and a reporter wanted to speak to Foreman to get comments for what soon would be Ali’s obituary. As the reporter asked a question about Ali and noted his frail health, his voice cracked.

Foreman leaned forward and put his hand on the reporter’s knee and smiled.

“The time comes for all of us, me, you, all these people and yes, even Muhammad,” Foreman said that late winter day. “But Muhammad’s got nothing to worry about. He treated people right. He did the right thing. He served his God. When he goes, it’ll be a celebration.”

On Friday, Foreman’s own time came. The former heavyweight champion died at 76, surrounded by family at his home in Houston, they announced.

Foreman was one of the most accomplished heavyweight boxers of all-time and ranks among the five best heavyweights who ever lived. He had two stints as champion, won the 1968 Olympic gold medal and was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 2003.

He was 76-5 with 68 knockouts and in 2018 was ranked the ninth greatest puncher of all-time by Ring Magazine.

It was his accomplishments as a man, however, that made him one of the most beloved fighters in boxing history. He became known as “the Grill Guy” to a generation of fans who may never have seen him fight but owned a Foreman Grill and loved the grinning man behind it.

After a shocking 1977 loss to Jimmy Young in Puerto Rico, Foreman said he had a revelation.

He retired from boxing and became an ordained Christian minister. When he returned to boxing in 1987 as a more chubby and genial personality who joked about eating cheeseburgers, he was still as effective and powerful as ever, even if he was slower and didn’t move as well.

At 45, he became the oldest heavyweight champion in history on Nov. 5, 1994, at the MGM Grand Garden, when he knocked out Michael Moorer in the 10th round.

When Foreman landed the right hand that put Moorer down and out, his long-time friend, Jim Lampley, exclaimed, “It happened!” That phrase would become the title of Lampley’s book, which will be released next month.

The roar was ear-splitting when ring announcer Michael Buffer said, “The impossible dream has happened. Heavyweight history has happened. Referee Joe Cortez reaches the count of 10 at two minutes, three seconds of Round number 10, the winner, and once again heavyweight champion of the world, ‘Big’ George Foreman!”

Lampley fought back tears as he spoke of his long-time friend. He emceed a dinner in Foreman’s honor in 2019 in Boise, Idaho. Foreman pulled him aside after it was over to thank Lampley for flying from his North Carolina home to host the event.

“The evening came to a close and I remember we were saying goodbye to each other,” Lampley said, his voice quivering and cracking. “I remember he was so thoughtfully grateful to me for coming. He said something to me along the lines of, ‘I’ll never forget what a really good friend you’ve been to me.’

“And I remember going to bed with a glow and an inner sense of, here’s another very meaningful accomplishment slash stroke of luck in my life that I am friends with this man.”

Foreman had that impact on so many. As a child, he was a street tough in Houston and in his first run as a professional, was seen as mean and surly.

He developed a fan base at the 1968 Olympic Games in Mexico City when he  won the gold by knocking out Ionas Chepulis of the Soviet Union. He waved tiny American flags in the ring.

Foreman’s path to greatness took shape quickly after turning pro in 1969.

He opened his career by going 37-0 with 34 knockouts. That earned him a title shot on Jan. 22, 1973, in Kingston, Jamaica, against then-champion Joe Frazier, who had defeated Ali in an epic 1971 bout.

Frazier was so highly regarded that he entered the bout as a nearly 4-1 favorite.

Foreman delivered one of the great performances in the history of the division, dropping Frazier six times, lifting him off his feet with one uppercut and stopping him in the second in a stunning, spectacular upset. 

He was frighteningly dominant in his first two defenses, dispatching Joe “King” Roman in one round and future Hall of Famer Ken Norton in two.

That led him to a title defense against Ali, the start of a relationship that was equal parts rivalry and reverence and which would shape the rest of his life.

Ali was a massive underdog when he fought Foreman in Kinshasa, Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of Congo. 

Many on Ali’s own team—let alone in his fan base—feared he’d bitten off more than he could chew by challenging Foreman. Ali, though, never saw it that way and he taunted Foreman mercilessly before the fight.

"I saw George Foreman shadow boxing," Ali said. "The shadow won."

On Oct. 30, 1974, the night he fought Ali, it had been three years since Foreman had even been pushed into the fourth round. To that point in his career, he’d only fought into Round 4 or beyond nine times in 40 bouts..

Ali correctly figured Foreman would tire and he’d be able to take advantage. So he laid on the ropes, covered up, and let Foreman punch. It was hard to tell in real time what Ali was doing, but this was the birth of a tactic he famously dubbed “The Rope-a-Dope.”

Foreman tired, just as Ali had suspected, and Ali opened up. He sent Foreman down and out at 2:58 of the eighth round to regain the heavyweight title in one of the most triumphant performances of his career.

But it was also the start of a deep and abiding friendship.

Lampley once asked Foreman if, after that fight, he would ever pick up the phone and call Ali.

“He said, ‘We’d talk to each other after 11 o’clock, midnight, while the rest of the houses were quiet,’ ” Lampley said. “I asked what they’d talked about and George said, ‘Well, you know, of course we talked about boxing and what was going on in the ring. But a lot of our conversations were about faith. I said, ‘George, he was a Muslim and you were, as I understand it, a fundamentalist Christian. Where was the commonality?’

“George said, ‘That was easy for us. We stated it openly to one another, that good is good, bad is bad and that any morally conscious person knows the difference. And so on that basis, we reached common ground.’ ”

Foreman fought six more times after losing to Ali. He engaged in one of the greatest fights ever when he knocked out Ron Lyle in 1975 in Las Vegas, and he beat Frazier again in a rematch.

But he wasn’t getting any closer to the title. And after a stunning upset loss to Jimmy Young—a slick boxer but not much of a puncher—Foreman retired.

He said he’d had a vision after the fight and knew he had to change his life. That’s when he became an ordained minister.

When he first retired, he said he wouldn’t entertain a comeback despite big-money offers because, as he put it, “I couldn’t make a fist after I learned about Jesus Christ.”

Eventually, though, he realized he could use the bully pulpit he had as a boxer to spread his message.

“I don’t even think about a retirement program because I’m working for the Lord, for the Almighty,” Foreman said. “And even though the Lord’s pay isn’t very high, his retirement program is, you might say, out of this world.”

He was promoted by Top Rank during his comeback and spent the early stretch beating up on a steady stream of nobodies. He was massive when he returned and no longer light on his feet, but the power that had once lifted Joe Frazier off the canvas had not left him.

He knocked out Steve Zouski in four, Charles Hostetter in three, Bobby Crabtree in six, Tim Anderson in four, and Rocky Sekorski in three—all in 1987, the first year of his return.

He began to be taken more seriously a year later, when he knocked out future Hall of Famer Dwight Muhammad Qawi in seven rounds on March 19, 1988.

Then on Jan. 15, 1990, he blasted out former title challenger Gerry Cooney in just two rounds, setting the stage for a title shot against Evander Holyfield on April 19, 1991. Foreman was 42 years old. The bout is widely regarded as the first fight of the modern pay-per-view era.

He lost, but put on a vigorous effort—and after that night, he was no longer seen as a sideshow act. The jokes stopped. The cheeseburgers — like the platter delivered to him during a news conference — became a thing of the past.

He lost a second bid for the heavyweight title in 1993, dropping a decision to Tommy Morrison for the WBO belt. But Foreman’s popularity, charisma, and drawing power were such that he earned another shot despite the loss.

He faced Michael Moorer in 1994 at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, during the venue’s inaugural year. Moorer was winning most of the fight until a short 1-2 combination from Foreman changed the course of boxing history.

Lampley said that after regaining the title, Foreman was the same happy-go-lucky, upbeat man he’d always known. When he returned to the HBO broadcast booth, he never sought praise.

“He knew that what he’d done in the ring had been in his soul and that [regaining the title] had been sort of an obsession for him for a long time,” Lampley said. “Once he’d knocked Moorer out and ran to the corner and knelt and said his prayer of thanks, that was the end. He didn’t need further glorification or sanctification as a result of that. It was back to family and the offspring and his friends and life as normal. It was back to the non-public life that meant at least as much to him, if not more to him, than his public life.”

Foreman fought four more times after defeating Moorer, winning three. He lost a controversial decision to Shannon Briggs in 1997 at age 48, in what would be the final fight of his career.

He made friends everywhere he went and his passing was felt throughout the boxing community.

“George was a great friend to not only myself but to my entire family,” Top Rank founder Bob Arum said. “We've lost a family member and are absolutely devastated.”