George Foreman was a special fighter and a special human being. The great American heavyweight filled a room, with his presence and aura, just as his physique and fists filled a ring in his pomp in an era of
the very greatest in boxing’s blue riband division.
Very saddened to learn of the passing of ‘Big George‘, at one time a wrecking ball
fighter, associated so closely with Muhammad Ali in their ‘Rumble In
The Jungle’ in Zaire in 1974, and later, reclaiming the heavyweight
title as the oldest heavyweight champion in history aged 46 and 169
days. Saddened indeed.
George was a wonderful human being to speak to, sharing his wisdom and
knowledge from a life replete with experiences, and as a journalist
and broadcaster in the fight field, I genuinely feel honoured to have
interviewed the great man many times over the last thirty years. He
always had le mot juste, whether it be advice for a young heavyweight
champion Anthony Joshua, advising on getting ‘to know who you are’ as
a fighter, or explaining the pitfalls of being heavyweight champion of
the world, ‘for which there is no College course’. Microphones, when
you are heavyweight champion of the world, he said, could be ‘so
dangerous’ and ‘a weapon of mass destruction’. So true.
Like Joshua, of course, George had won Olympic gold in Mexico in 1968,
and on every level his wisdom was underpinned by a deeper purpose.
There was very little George did not have experience in, from knowing
the glory and fame of being one of the most famous men on earth in the
Seventies, to plummeting to the depths of despair after being unhinged
by Ali in that famous, famous fight in Africa. I’ll never forget how
George explained that he hid in a hotel room in Paris afterwards for a
fortnight as he was unable to show his face. Bill Caplan, George‘s PR
man since he was a teenager, and indeed to the very end of his life,
has told me many times that the great heavyweight is unique given his
accomplishments in the ring decades apart, and is correct in his
assertion that George became “a quotes machine” later in life due to
his ease in the milieu of preaching.
Given his life work as a preacher and minister – with his own church –
and as an entrepreneur famously with the Foreman Grill, George had an
ability to make those he met feel special. He espoused, every time I
was in his company, either in person or on the phone, to being blessed
in life. The recent biopic on his life showed that in great detail.
I last spoke to George in October, for The Telegraph, looking back on
The Rumble In The Jungle, 50 years on. George, as per Caplan’s
assertion, was extraordinary, telling me about fighting five men in
one night, to regain his mental and emotional strength, after the
defeat to Ali. But he also laughed and giggled all the way through
telling the story with his big, booming beautiful voice.
Why did Foreman feel the need to take on five men in one night ? “I
was trying to prove that I was strong. Losing to Muhammad in Africa,
it just put a shadow over my whole career and I wanted to prove that
that was not the real George Foreman who lost. I went out there and
proved my strength. I realised that I just got beat and that’s all
there was to it.”
The story did not end there. And as Caplan always told me, Foreman
remains unique in boxing. He left the sport and retired for 10 years
from the age of 27 to 37, then came back and won the world title
again, extraordinarily, at the age of 45.
“I had 10 years off when I could eat what I wanted, go where I wanted,
go horseback riding, and when I went back to boxing, everything was
still there. I could still do it,” Foreman had told me. “It was easy,
because boxing for me, entering the ring and having a fight, came
naturally to me. I had strength and power, and I never doubted
myself.”
I can remember sitting with George in a hotel suite in Chelsea, around
a decade ago, talking of Ali, and Joe Frazier, the the then young
upstarts Tyson Fury and Anthony Joshua, with George revealing that he
was siding with Donald Trump in the upcoming US elections. The man who
had brought us the lean, mean grilling machine even had a new
invention in mind that day — shoes that can make the older
generation “get up and walk”. We laughed out loud over that invention.
But George was serious.
That day in Chelsea was four months after the passing of Ali, the
fighter whose name will always be associated with Foreman’s, thanks to
their unforgettable fight, the most watched heavyweight championship
boxing match in history.
‘Ali – was like a total eclipse,’ Foreman had told me. ‘You only see
something like that maybe once in a lifetime. I was able to see a lot
of it. The world will mourn for a long time, not so much for the man
but for this energetic talent, this piece of art.
‘The ‘Great Ones’ live long like that. I’ll admit the most exciting
moment in my life as a boxer was meeting him the first time. He was
the most exciting human being I’d ever met.”
It was at that point – and will never forget it – that Foreman’s
momentary sadness lifted and there is a booming laugh. Foreman
explained me that the wallpaper on his computer screen is of Ali,
right hand cocked, looking over him, fallen, in Zaire.
‘Everybody has got to realise that life isn’t about winning. It’s
about getting up after you’ve lost. Whenever I get a little too high
on myself, I bring that picture out and there’s Muhammad Ali walking
away and I’m on the canvas, looking up. I instantly go into my mode of
‘you better come down’. It makes a human being out of you.’
Foreman still loved to talk boxing, compared eras, but was never
unkind or had an axe to grind. There is no doubt that he belonged to a
golden age. ‘No doubt about it, a lot of us from yesteryear were the
professors of boxing. We established it all, from Joe Louis’s left
jab, Ali’s movement and showmanship, Frazier’s aggressive style and
left hook. Even Mike Tyson based himself on Frazier. He’d scare you
and all that stuff. We are the professors.”
Being heavyweight champion, he believed, was a special blessing, a role.
‘The weapon of mass distraction is that microphone,” Foreman had told
me, with a grin. ‘You can get in more trouble with a microphone and a
pencil and piece of paper than a time bomb. You’ve got to be careful
about what you say.’
Then there was Trump. George had views.
‘Donald Trump has been a friend not only to me but boxing itself,’ he
observed. ‘Somewhere deep down you pull for him to win. It would be
good for politics to have some newcomer on the scene. I would have fun
for the next four years. I’ve voted for lots of guys. Some lose, some
win. But I’d have fun with Donald Trump being president.
‘I remember my mom and my aunt were worried about Kennedy going
against Nixon. They were so afraid. Kennedy got in but nothing
happened one way or another. Every four years we all become political.
It’s a joy to vote. I love getting out there and voting and supporting
your guy.’
Preaching his message was always deeply important. It underpinned the
last five decades of his life. ‘Life is fun. I’m a preacher, I’m an
evangelist, and I moonlight as a grill salesperson. My next quest is
to sell ‘The George Foreman Shoe’ that will make folks my age get up
and walk. No good having money in the bank and a nice home and car if
you don’t walk. I’m going to be selling walking now: get up and walk.
I’m always selling something. I learnt to sell to ensure I’d never
starve.’
And his greatest message as a preacher and lecturer? “As a minister,
you want to sell hope. Don’t ever give up on yourself or anyone else.
The lessons you learn in life can actually change the world. Stay in
school, get a piece of education, so you can help us all one day.”
But the association with Ali will never die. Back in 2012, George told
me, for The Telegraph: ‘If you catch him early in the morning, and he
is in good spirits, he talks. His wife Lonnie or his daughter will put
him on the phone, and we talk. He’s interested in what I’m interested
in, we talk about our children and our grandchildren, and he’ll still
crack a joke.’
‘In early December, we were exchanging pictures of our grandchildren
by text. I showed him one picture, he sent back two. He’ll say ‘Hey
George, how many grandchildren have you got?’ I’ve got six, I told
him. ‘Well I’ve got eight, George. See — I beat you again,’ he said.
He still wants to be ‘The Greatest’.’
George explained: ‘We fought in 1974, that was a long time ago. After
1981 we became the best of friends. By 1984, we loved each other. I am
not closer to anyone else in this life than I am to Muhammad Ali. Why?
We were forged by that first fight in Zaire and our lives are
indelibly linked by memories and photographs, as young men and old
men. We have a love for each other.’
‘Boxing was such a small part of what he could do. I remember when I
won the championship of the world, we didn’t want to be called
‘champion’, what we really wanted was to be the guy who beat Muhammad
Ali. We wanted that more than to be champion of the world. That’s
really what we all wanted. But really, nobody could beat Muhammad Ali.
Even when you beat him, people said you hadn’t really beaten him,
nobody would say that he had lost, and they still wanted to get his
autograph, and get the chance to get hugged and kissed by him.’
Perhaps the two great men are sitting side by side reminiscing. RIP
Big George Foreman. One of the greats. Forever. 1949-2025.
This article appeared in The Daily Telegraph on March 22, 2025.