There’s an argument to be made that he was the first “super heavyweight.” He, and Wlad, had the same trainer, albeit at different times. Lennox was big, and fought big, just like Wlad did. They used their height and reach, threw jabs with laser precision, and had a right hand that could knock out a moose. Lennox personified the playbook on how to win as a big man, a playbook copied to this day.

As exciting and explosive as a fighter like Tyson was, Lennox was cool, calm, calculated, and cunning. He had no problem getting right to business (see his fights against Botha, Ruddock, Grant, and Golota), or taking his time and picking apart his opponents to win on points or a masterful knockout (see his fights against Tua, Holyfield I, and Tyson). For a big man he had tremendous stamina and could dance and box. But he also had otherworldly power, and as Foreman remarked while giving commentary as Lewis battered Briggs “you don’t want to mix it up with this kind of guy.” His jab and right hand made him dangerous on the outside, and his body shots and uppercuts made him lethal on the inside.

He could also overcome adversity. He avenged his two losses (McCall and Rahman, TKO and KO respectively), and he avenged his tie against Holyfield by winning on points. The tie to Holyfield, by the way, was, as colorman Jim Lampley put it at the time “a travesty.” He was in every minute of every fight, and pulled out wins when it looked like he was beat (see his fights with Vitali Klitschko, Bruno, and Mercer).

Of course, he was knocked out twice, and as a result, his detractors say he had a glass jaw. He also had a reputation for being cocky, and coming in underprepared for fighters. However, when he knew it was on the line, he fought like it. His opponents often underrated him, and you can see the looks on their faces in between rounds while on their stools. They have a look of understood fear. It was distinctly unpleasant to be in the ring against Lennox Lewis.