A huge interview with Big George Foreman

It was early in my writing career, July of 1987, when my phone rang at my desk in Richmond, California.

I had been writing a boxing column for the Contra Costa Times, which in Northern California was somewhat of an oddity. With all the newspapers in the region, the only boxing columnists were myself and the late Jack Fiske (San Francisco Chronicle), who is in the International Boxing Hall of Fame.

"Hello?"

"Jay, this is George Foreman."

"Come on, who is this?"

"Really, it's George Foreman."

Foreman had just come out of a 10-year retirement to beat Steve Zouski on March 9, 1987, in Sacramento. At the time, nobody was taking his comeback seriously, so he figured he would talk to anyone willing to listen, even if he didn't work for a major metro.

Foreman asked if I would come to his hotel just outside the Oakland airport to talk about his next bout, against Charles Hostetter on July 9 in Oakland.

"Well, sure."

The next day, I sat poolside with the man who had won an Olympic gold medal in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, who won the WBA and WBC heavyweight titles with a knockout of Joe Frazier in 1973, and who had lost his titles in an epic bout against Muhammad Ali in 1974.

No PR guys, no management, no yes men. Just George.

The thought of sitting down with Foreman was intimidating. He was known for being a bully, and mean. But I just had to go, and I am glad I did.

It was a living, breathing history lesson. We talked about boxing, and life, and redemption. We talked about his life growing up mean on the streets of Houston, and about mine, a much safer, quieter existence on farmlands. 

We talked for two hours on any subject I so desired. His triumphs, his failures, the vision he had of God after his loss to Jimmy Young in 1977 that sent him into his first retirement and turned him toward his path to become a minister. He said God had asked him to change his ways.

In almost 50 years of interviews, that moment in 1987 was right at the top for me.

On March 21, Foreman died at the age of 76. I have thought about the man many times over the past few days, but not because of his power in the ring, his Olympic gold medal, or his improbable comeback in which he won a world title at the age of 45.

I thought mostly about his ability to change people's perceptions of him, and how the lesson of portraying decency can pay off handsomely, whether that is for a heavyweight champion, or for you or I.

You see, I knew some people closely associated with Foreman as he was building his first run toward a heavyweight championship, and everything they said about Foreman was bad.

Then, on a flight back from Las Vegas after covering a title bout, I sat next to a member of his braintrust. He told me that Foreman had been "the most hated man in boxing" during his first run to the title. He told me story after story of what a bad guy he was.

It wasn't the first time I had heard those stories. One of his sparring partners told me similar stories. At that point, I never talked to anyone who had something positive to say about Foreman.

That day I interviewed him in Oakland, Foreman confirmed those stories were true. He had been a nasty man, and miserable. He was smiling when he said it. Being a good guy had chased away his demons.

He said the George Foreman of his 20s and early- to mid-30s would never had received the support to launch a comeback when nobody wanted to believe in him. But the kinder version of George Foreman, the man who was preaching on street corners before becoming the minister of his own church, was welcomed with open arms. Perhaps no one believed that an older, overweight Foreman could win another world title, but they liked him.

I often told myself that a two-hour interview doesn't mean I knew what the man was all about. Being a journalist means you are at least a big cynical. Was his jolly-old-George act real, or a well executed plan to build favor and to eventually allow him to make millions through marketing his image?

Boxing insiders will give you opinions on both sides.

But no matter the truth, the perception is what is important here. George Foreman had two separate lives. There was the mean, unfeeling, inconsiderate man who had all the money in the world, but few friends. Then there was the beloved figure, who put God first, and who would be quick with a smile and a kind word.

No matter where you live, the lessons that George Foreman taught us all is that it is easier going through life being kind and compassionate toward others. The expressions of love will be returned. It's something you can never get in a boxing ring ... a win-win.

That's how I will remember him. Rest in peace, Big George.