He Used to Be the Heavy, Then He Saw the Light

The once surly, menacing image of George Foreman is long gone, swept out more than 20 years ago, like a lot of dust around a boxing ring.

He smiles all the time now, looks almost slim and dapper in the black tuxedo he wears for HBO boxing telecasts. He signs autographs, poses for pictures, is a smiling pitchman for George Foreman grills on TV, talks to anybody and everybody, and embraces life like somebody with a lot of catching up to do.

Once the self-acclaimed “most destructive heavyweight champion ever,” Foreman has gone from someone promoter Bob Arum says “was miserable to be around to a person everybody wants to be around.” Foreman beat Joe Frazier for the title in 1973, lost it the next year to Muhammad Ali in the legendary fight in Zaire, then quit boxing after an exhausting defeat at the hands of Jimmy Young in 1977. He returned to regain the heavyweight title -- at 45 -- in 1994, beating Michael Moorer. Somewhere between Young and Moorer, a life-altering lightbulb went off and now, at 53, a wealthy and personable George Foreman, full-time resident of Houston and part-time resident of Malibu, has taken his place alongside those few in sports who carry both greatness and decency.

Question: It all started for you with the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, when you won the gold medal. What are your memories?

Answer: I went to Mexico City and suddenly, there were all these famous athletes, people I’d been reading about and seeing on TV -- John Carlos, Tommie Smith, Debbie Meyer. They were sitting right there in the cafeteria, the same one I was in. I looked at them and they looked at me. I was awestruck. Then I saw my first gold medal. Bob Beamon walked in with it hanging around his neck and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I just knew I had to have one of those.

Q: And then you won one, and you were up there on the victory stand, and ...

A: That’s when you realize, “I’m an American.” You hear them play your song and you are all alone on top and you realize that those other guys can’t go up there. That’s your spot. It’s right there that all adjectives die. You are an American.

Q: Where do you keep your gold medal?

A: I don’t have it. I donated it to the Texas Hall of Fame. I wanted young people to be able to see it, and to feel like I did when I first saw one.

Q: Will you get it back one day?

A: Nope.

Q: The Olympics had to be the start of your transition, but before that, it was pretty much lots of bad stuff growing up, correct? I’ve read stories, for example, of how you used to hold victims upside down in the streets while your accomplices in crime would empty the person’s pockets.

A: I was a mugger. There was a point in my life where my only goal was to go to jail because when I got out, I’d be one of the special guys. Those were the guys who got the respect. They’d come out of jail and the other guys would want to hang around them and buy them cherry Cokes. I didn’t only want to go to jail, I wanted to come out with a scar. That’s when you really got respect, when you had that big scar along your cheek. I faked it for a while. I wore a Band-Aid.

Q: When you lost to Ali in Zaire, it was a bitter loss. Are you OK with it now?

A: Oh, yes. I remember just punishing him for three, four, five, six rounds. Then, in the eighth, I hit him with a couple of great shots and he finally went into a clinch. And we’re in this clinch and he’s breathing heavy and I’m pretty tired and he whispers in my ear, “Is that all you’ve got?” And I remember thinking, “Well, as a matter of fact, yes, it is.”

Q: Did you hate him for a while?

A: How ever you describe the word “hate,” yes, that’s what I had. I hated him. Then, years ago, I was being interviewed by Allan Malamud (the late Times’ columnist) and he asked me a question about it, and I said that I got beat, that he knocked me out, that I lost fair and square. And from that moment on, I was free. Just to say it, face it, made me a free man. And all I could think of was to find Ali and talk to him.

Q: Did you?

A: We are great friends. Ali is like my brother now. Over the years, we have become very close. I can close my eyes and think of Ali. And if you lean close and listen to him, he will say good things about George Foreman. I know that.

Q: Tell me more about how you changed your life and your personality.

A: I went into the streets to preach. And people would pass me by. And at first, I didn’t want to tell them I was George Foreman, but I figured out that if I did, they would stop. And if they would stop, then I could do business. It was hard, and it was hot, but I kept on preaching. One day, a man walked by and blew smoke in my face. I let it go, and he did it again. The third time, I got up close to him and said, quietly, “Do you know who I am and what I could do to you?” His eyes got real big and he left. The people watching thought I had said something like “God love you,” so they stayed around and listened.

Q: Is it hard staying like you are now?

A: I remember [during his comeback in the early ‘90s] after I lost to Evander Holyfield and I was hungry and I went to an IHOP and I ordered a big stack of pancakes and I had just started to eat when a man came by and asked me to sign something. I told him to let me finish my meal first. And he started to walk away. My wife looked at me and said that I can’t be nice just sometimes, or when it is easy. If I’m going to be nice to people, I have to be that way all the time. And so I called the guy back and signed with one hand while I ate with the other. I vowed never to pretend again, and I haven’t.

Q: Then, incredibly, at 45, you came back, 20 years after you had last held the heavyweight championship of the world, and won it again when you beat Moorer. What did that feel like?

A: There have been few things better. I always believed that I’d get back there, but once it had happened, and I was standing there in that ring, it was like I really knew what it meant to be heavyweight champ. Before Mexico City and the Olympics, I was a 19-year-old kid who had never had one dream come true in his life. And there I was, heavyweight champ. Again.