A Letter to Evander Holyfield

I am a great admirer of your boxing career. Even though there were a couple nights throughout the years when I found myself rooting against you, typically you were this fan's favorite. I have always considered you to be an exceptional pugilist and a class act. Your boxing career is a unique one, seemingly scripted by Sylvester Stallone in Rocky-like fashion. You frequently seemed to be facing insurmountable odds, yet more often than not, you would find a way to prevail. When you came up short, your efforts were so heroic that even in defeat, you epitomized the essence of a champion.

I have never idealized you. Your flaws are as apparent as your strengths. To the former, there are various babies mamas who will attest. But as an athlete, you have been a consistent source of inspiration and worthy subject of admiration. At your natural size in your original Cruiserweight division, you were the best there has ever been. Yet rather than relaxing atop a perch that you could not be removed from, you moved on to bigger and greater challenges, both figuratively and literally. Your goal was to become Heavyweight champion of the world, and although you were often the smaller man in the ring, you usually displayed the bigger heart. As result, you accomplished your objective no less than four times over.

Unlike many pro boxers, fans never got the impression that you took your success for granted, or took any opponent lightly. You always entered the ring in top shape, were always aggressive from the opening bell, and always continued to fight hard round after round until there was no more fighting to be done. When setbacks came, you did not succumb to them. Even when your health appeared to be the one foe you could not vanquish, you managed to defy the prognosis that your heart was not up to any more challenges. Your three fight series of battles versus Riddick Bowe forever defined you, even though Riddick twice emerged victorious, as one of boxing's all-time great warriors. When you defeated the Big Bad Wolf known as Mike Tyson back when he was still able to huff and puff and blow his adversaries away, your legacy was set in stone. And although you were able to accomplish no more than a draw against Lennox Lewis, it was apparent to everyone that you were the one perpetually moving in for the kill while he used his considerable height and reach advantage to keep you at bay. He got to keep his belts, but you were never shortchanged the respect that you earned from us.

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