WHERE ARE THEY NOW? Kallie Knoetze

TWENTY-NINE years may have passed since he quit, but the self-proclaimed "Bek van Boomstraat" isn't likely to pull his punches any time soon.

Kallie Knoetze, the garrulous bruiser who was once ranked No3 heavyweight in the world and fought an elimination bout for the vacant World Boxing Association title against "Big" John Tate, still shares an opinion as readily as he used to unleash his left hook.

"I'm 57 but my wife tells me I've aged well," Knoetze declared in his charming "you better believe it, or else" manner.

"I'm enjoying life. I've started living a more Christian life and I give my wife and kids more attention."

"Die Bek's" grin then widens. "It's the most wonderful thing to be a grandad. We received gifts in Nuan (two-and-a-half) and Lian (six months).

"I've been married to Elise for 33 years. From the moment I appointed her the boss everything was better. We should give women more power."

He doesn't just trade in expedient flattery. "To have a name in business helps but it doesn't guarantee you anything. People still want quality and good service.

"I still sell fruit and vegetables to companies and the state. It's funny that in the old South Africa I didn't do any business with the state, even when I was famous. Now I do. I employ about 30 people.

"I'm very happy in the new South Africa. Yes, the elite must not enrich themselves at the expense of the poor and there is corruption and they must do something about the criminals.

"Apart from that I love it in the new South Africa."

Some will struggle to reconcile today's Knoetze with the man who once declared himself the white world champion. "I said that after I beat Duane Bobick (in 1978). I felt I was ready to challenge for the title."

He might have had a shot against Muhammad Ali but the bout, not to mention the verbal sparring the undercard promised, never materialised. Ali lost to Leon Spinks and with it went the prospect of him travelling to apartheid South Africa to fight a white ex-cop.

"Everybody was against us. The court cases, the demonstrators, the hiding, the changing of hotels at night because of bomb threats. Why did I lose interest? Well, f***ing losing, that's why.

"After I stopped I couldn't believe people moered each other like that."

As much as Knoetze could throw a punch, absorbing it was not his gig. "Tate cracked my ribs ... I almost cried," Knoetze said, recalling his eighth-round knockout defeat in the eliminator in Mmabatho in June 1979.

He has yet to make peace with old nemesis Gerrie Coetzee. "I didn't like him because he was bloody good."

The former Northern Transvaal forward thinks rugby is a disgrace. He doesn't like the rolling maul and ticket prices.

"In the old rugby, guys like Uli Schmidt, Kallie Knoetze and Burger Geldenhuys were cowards. Because they would hit a guy when he wasn't looking.

"But you know who was one of the toughest sissies ever. Naas Botha. I tackled him. Not very late ... it was about a minute. He turned around and he kicked me like a f***ing dog. He then had his finger in my face. I thought, 'well, maybe he can moer me'."

Now, however, the two-handicapper has surrendered to the tranquility of the golf course. "I don't have a lot of time so I just play four times a week. I have these golf days once a week either at Pecanwood or at Magalies Park."

Knoetze wants to re-launch his roadside farm stall that Leon Schuster once famously gate-crashed in one of his spoofs. "That was good for business," Knoetze smiled. "But I also want to have a round of golf with Ernie Els and Retief Goosen.

"Apart from that, I don't want to battle as an old man. I learned a lot by winning and losing. I learned to respect life."