Seeking respect - Lennox Lewis (Allsport).

By Mark Staniforth, PA Sport

You get the feeling Lennox Lewis would have to beat Holyfield and Tyson in the same night to finally earn the respect of America.

Even after Lewis blasted away the feared Pole Andrew Golota inside a round in October 1997, the excuses were lined up to ensure Lewis did not gain the universal acclaim he was due for being the best heavyweight in the world.

Lewis crushed Golota in 95 seconds, twice knocking down the man who had twice demolished Riddick Bowe before referee Joe Cortez waved the contest off.

Golota was rated before the fight Bowe had been beaten to a pulp before winning both bouts by disqualification as the Pole's fragile mental state got the better of him.

Now that mental state was his excuse. He was taken to hospital after the fight suffering from an `anxiety attack'.

It had been the same after Oliver McCall had broken down during his WBC title defence against Lewis eight months earlier.

McCall turned away in tears, apparently in the throes of a nervous breakdown, and a bemused Lewis half-heartedly landed blows on his defenceless opponent before referee Mills Lane had seen enough.

Still, Lewis apparently had not displayed the killer instinct befitting a champion.

He should have rushed out and flattened McCall. It was a sign of weakness, a sign that against bigger and better men he would come unstuck.

"Lennox Lewis was physically afraid of Oliver" was the ludicrous suggestion of McCall's promoter Don King.

"He hit him with everything and it still didn't mean a thing."

There are two major reasons why Lewis despite his intimidating bulk and crashing overarm right does not gather much respect on the other side of the Atlantic.

One is that he became WBC champion after fishing the belt out of a dustbin.

After winning an eliminator for a shot at Riddick Bowe by demolishing Razor Ruddock in two rounds in 1992, Bowe threw away his belt rather than face the Englishman.

Lewis was awarded the title without climbing into the ring.

It was not the best way to be world champion, and the gesture certainly lacked respect for the great heavyweight champions of the past, but that was hardly Lewis's fault.

The other reason is his only professional defeat, in his first fight with McCall, his fourth defence of the title at Wembley in 1994.

McCall threw the punch of his life in round two and Lewis went down for the count.

His big plans to unify the belts were in tatters.

He said: "I can't believe it, it was a lucky shot.

"I was okay. The count went awfully fast."

Five years on Lewis is a different man, yet the scars still remain and are levered open at the slightest opportunity.

What excuse will they come up with if Lewis defeats Holyfield on March 13?

Mind you, it is not just overseas that Lewis' talents have been questioned. Britons, in the grip of Frank Bruno-mania, didn't take kindly to the Jamaican-Canadian who strolled onto the scene and proclaimed himself the best of British.

Lewis was born in London in 1965 but was taken to live in Ontario, Canada at the age of nine after his parents divorced.

He started boxing at 13 and four years later sparred with a young Mike Tyson in New York's Catskill mountains.

Lewis represented Canada at the 1984 Olympics and four years later won gold in Seoul, beginning his rivalry with Bowe by beating him in the super-heavyweight final.

Promoted by the little-known Londoners Panos Eliades and Frank Maloney, Lewis began turning his attention back to Britain, where he turned pro with a second-round win over Al Malcolm in 1989.

After 21 successive victories, during which he picked up the European title, he was matched with the ferocious Ruddock at Earls Court on Halloween, 1992.

Lewis went into the fight as the underdog, but afterwards you could not blame Bowe for renegeing on his pre-fight promise to meet the winner.

Lewis completely overwhelmed the Canadian who barely threw a punch during the savage action, which lasted just 226 seconds.

The 26-year-old decked Ruddock three times before referee Joe Cortez stepped in.

Lewis roared: "The first right hand did it, it was like a gunshot. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would win this fight.

"And I feel that, to many other people, I've answered a lot of unanswered questions about Lennox Lewis."

After making his first `defence' of his newly-acquired WBC title with a points win over grizzly veteran Tony Tucker, Lewis agreed to defend against Bruno in Cardiff, in October 1993.

There was no doubt who was the fans' favourite, the pre-fight needle between the pair merely succeeding in further antagonising the majority of British fans.

It was a far from textbook performance from Lewis, who looked sluggish before Bruno's tendency to freeze when hurt let him down again, and the champion finished him off in round seven.

Next up was Phil Jackson, whom Lewis dispatched in round eight in Las Vegas.

The American jury was still sceptical, and it was left to Jackson to say: "I think I fought the best heavyweight in the world tonight."

Lewis was lined up for a unification match against the IBF champion Michael Moorer but first put his title on the line against no more than a sparring partner to the stars in McCall.

What happened next was Lewis' biggest hammer blow.

The defeat shattered the scraps of credibility he had cultivated in the US and, with his team's biggest promotional rival Don King now in total control of the heavyweight division, Lewis faced up to a long road back to the top which could take years.

The chances of a re-match? "Slim and none, and slim's out of town," chuckled King in an interview on BBC Grandstand.

Instead Lewis went back to America and began picking up the pieces with a fifth-round win over the crude Lionel Butler, followed by an irrelevant win over the Australian nobody Justin Fortune in Dublin.

By October 1995 Bruno had dethroned McCall to become WBC champion and Lewis, with his sights on a Bruno re-match, beat former WBO champion Tommy Morrison in six impressive rounds in Atlantic City.

"I've sent out a message from this fight," said Lewis.

"Obviously Bruno and Bowe are watching and Bruno is trying to duck me."

But Bruno, of course, had other ideas. He was preparing instead for a second meeting with the newly-released Mike Tyson.

Lewis did not fit into his plans, so the frustrated Londoner instead met the dangerous Ray Mercer in May the following year.

It was a dangerous assignment in which Lewis almost came unstuck. Mercer was a dangerous veteran who was impossible to rock, but who carried a dangerous punch himself.

Lewis scraped home on a majority decision but could not have argued had he tasted defeat.

Then came McCall. It was a night when he regained his heavyweight crown but, as when Evander Holyfield became unified champion by blowing away a fat and listless Buster Douglas, Lewis did not have a satisfactory night.

It got worse before it got better. Lewis had been ordered to defend against the mandatory challenger, Henry Akinwande whose claim to be a true Brit was as tenuous as that of his opponent.

The London-born Nigerian, whose gangly frame had enabled him to win the WBO version of the title, was the most awkward opponent imaginable with his persistent jab carrying him to many a points win.

Lewis was in danger before the fight but Akinwande came out like a human octopus and held on until he was disqualified in round five.

Once again it did nothing for Lewis' image but it was not of his making.

"He was definitely out of his league," said Lewis.

"He didn't want to fight. After I caught him with a jab I could see by his face that he didn't want to fight."

The WBC belt which Lewis paraded was by now beginning to look like a tarnished trophy but Lewis restored its credibility on that big October night against Golota.

Forget the Pole's mental state, he was a concrete brawler who many tipped to dethrone the champion.

Lewis thumped home a chopping right and left hook before the first knockdown, when it was debatable if Golota should have been allowed to carry on.

A highly-focused Lewis steamed in with three more rights leaving Golota crumpled in the corner.

It was the most emphatic victory imaginable and restored pride to boxing so soon after Tyson's biting assault on Holyfield.

But perhaps Lewis, like Holyfield, can no longer raise his performance for bouts against the division's lower lights.

He has multi-million dollar showdowns on the mind, not defences against Shannon Briggs or Zelkjo Mavrovic.

In March last year Briggs stunned Lewis in round one before the big Brit composed himself and stopped his opponent in the fifth.

Then came Mavrovic, a lopsided points verdict more due to the Croatian's unexpectedly granite chin than to any deficiency on Lewis' part.

His unexciting victory was helped by Holyfield's similarly laboured points win over Vaughn Bean in the same week.

Anybody would think that the big boys were saving themselves for the unification bout which will decide once and for all who is the best heavyweight on the planet.

If things go Britain's way on March 13, then the whole world will finally have no choice but to believe in Lennox Lewis.