Thursday, Feb. 12, 2004 | 9:36 a.m.
Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4084.
In the aftermath of Lennox Lewis' not-so-surprising decision to retire Friday at the age of 38, columnists and reporters alike have derided the heavyweight champion for an assortment of perceived shortcomings.
Too aloof, too arrogant, too uncaring, were some of the complaints.
The critics say Lewis never completely utilized his physical assets, that he fought in spurts and only when motivated, and that his two losses were indicative of a career that was big on promise and hype but short on substance.
Most implied that they were glad to see him go.
But I think the sport and its fans are going to miss him. I think Lennox Lewis, with a career record of 41-2-1, was one of the greatest heavyweight champions in history.
For starters, he's only the third man to retire as a reigning heavyweight champion and the first to do so since Rocky Marciano in 1956. And Lewis will stay retired, he plainly stated at his announcement ceremony in London.
Many fans and observers fail to properly credit Lewis for not only facing an array of contenders and champions, but for a willingness to meet those opponents at the peak of their careers. It was not Lewis' fault that Riddick Bowe would not fight him in 1992, nor was it Lewis' fault that Mike Tyson clearly was past his prime when Lewis dominated him in a 2002 fight.
As for his consecutive fights with Evander Holyfield in 1999, those inclined to defend Lewis can rightfully claim that it was Lewis who drove Holyfield's career into decline (as opposed to the skeptics' view that Holyfield was already in decline at the time).
Any and everyone else Lewis faced was a suitable challenger for the heavyweight title at the time of their fight with this 6-foot-5, 240-pound slugger.
An Olympic gold medalist (in 1988), Lewis built the early portion of his record with victories against the usual suspects before upgrading his level of competition (and making his way to Las Vegas). By late '92 he was ready for Bowe, but Bowe -- who then held the World Boxing Council title that Lewis always favored -- refused to agree to the fight and, consequently, vacated the title.
Lewis then beat Tony Tucker for the championship, in May of 1993, and was on his way to dominating the division for the ensuing 10 years.
Yes, he lost twice during that lengthy tenure, but why is that so unforgivable? With the exception of Marciano, no one retires undefeated and Lewis took his turn at tasting defeat.
What I really like is the way Lewis came back after those losses to avenge them in no uncertain terms. The unexpected loss to Oliver McCall in '94 was vindicated three years later at the Las Vegas Hilton when Lewis so thoroughly embarrassed McCall that McCall broke down in tears while still in the ring as he surrendered following the fifth round.
And when Lewis got a second crack at Hasim Rahman, who had upset the champion in a 2001 fight, he tore into him in the rematch seven months later at Mandalay Bay and won by fourth-round knockout.
Along the way Lewis also beat his mandatory challengers and anyone else who came along, including such notables as Frank Bruno, Tommy Morrison, Andrew Golota, Shannon Briggs, Michael Grant, Frans Botha and David Tua. Maybe it's easy to forget with the passage of time, but when Lewis was fighting those guys they were all decent opponents who had risen to the top of the division by virtue of their numerous wins against other contenders.
The fight with Tua, Nov. 11, 2000, at Mandalay Bay was indicative of the hardship Lewis had to face as a champion who was less than revered. Tua came into that fight on a hot knockout streak and was given a legitimate chance to win, yet Lewis fought a brilliant strategic fight and easily won a decision over 12 rounds.
Afterward, he faced all kinds of criticism -- that he didn't go for the KO; that he needlessly toyed with Tua; that he underachieved -- but the reality that night was that Lewis landed some crushing blows, took a few as well, and fought in such a manner that Tua was reduced to a feeble caricature of himself and that he has never fully recovered.
Likewise, when Lewis prevailed in a tough fight with Vitali Klitschko last June, credit was slow in being dispersed if forthcoming at all. Say what you will about the timing of the stoppage and the scoring by the judges through six rounds, but it was Lewis who busted up Klitschko and caused the deep cut and bleeding by his left eye that led the ringside physician to stop the fight.
Whether people liked him personally or not, Lewis ran roughshod over the division. And to those with an open mind toward such things, Lewis was as engaging as need be and as cooperative as most prominent athletes in the world today.
I've always found him to be a class act, let alone a great fighter.
If you don't think you're going to miss him, wait to see who winds up with the heavyweight belt(s) he's leaving behind. Wait to see how the division suffers without a focal point.
Wait a few years and there's a good chance you'll look back and think the sport was better when Lennox Lewis was at the top.
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