Being beaten by Ali was a privilege: Foreman

George Foreman can never forget the day, 40 years ago, when he was felled by Muhammad Ali. He will not allow himself to.

Every time he switches on his computer at his home in Texas, in the US, he is confronted with an image of himself tumbling to the ground and Ali standing over him, triumphant, after landing the punch that ended "The Rumble in the Jungle".

"That picture is my screensaver," Foreman said. "It is a reminder to me every day that you have to stay humble."

"The Rumble" was many things: the signal of the arrival of Don King as a formidable promoter, the breaking of a new frontier in taking blue-riband boxing to Africa; the marriage of sport and soul music, with the fight staged alongside the Zaire 74 festival.

Inevitably, the story tends to be told through the prism of Ali, with his sound bites and sledge-hammer fists. Yet it was just as much a defining moment for Foreman: it was the first time he was made to feel truly mortal on the sporting stage, and a day that ultimately proved a personal epiphany.

Foreman, then 25, had been world champion for 21 months, having annihilated Joe Frazier and Ken Norton. He was considered impregnable, with Ali - who had lost the heavyweight crown to Frazier at "The Fight of The Century" in New York three years previously - widely written off.

Foreman was boxing's bogeyman: a terrifying, moody, imposing figure - a street brawler, cut from the same rough cloth as Sonny Liston a decade previously.

"I wasn't looking to make friends with anyone. I was young and all I wanted was fame and fortune. Liston was my role model," he recalled.

King may have been eager to drum up the symbolic nature of a heavyweight title contest between two of the world's most famous black athletes in Zaire but for Foreman it was purely business.

"All I wanted was to get more money. King agreed to pay both Ali and me so much money I didn't care where he got it from. Going to Africa to fight meant they weren't even going to snatch income tax from us. That's why I was eager to go to Africa. But the truth is that I wasn't happy to leave home at all.

"I wanted to join Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis, John L Sullivan and Rocky Marciano. These were all heroes if you wanted to be heavyweight champion. The colour thing had nothing to do with what I was interested in at the time."

Foreman's refusal to engage in racial grandstanding allowed Ali to "wear the black hat" and assiduously court public opinion. The relentless stream of insults, braggadocio and publicity stunts from the Ali camp made him the local favourite, making Foreman appear cold and unlovable.

"I just thought: 'I'm bigger, better and you're no threat to me'," he said. There was no reason to dislike him. He never got under my skin."

Ali even arrived in Zaire 24 hours ahead of Foreman to ensure a more frenzied reaction.

"There were 6000 people on the tarmac at sunrise waiting for us," recalled Bill Caplan, Foreman's publicist. "We were supposed to be there for 10 days, but George got cut five days before the fight."

The six-week delay which followed fuelled Foreman's unease. "George wanted to leave - he didn't like it there," Caplan said. "But [president] Mobutu [Sese Seko] wouldn't allow him to leave.

"Ali was the most famous person on earth then. He was bigger than the president of the US and the pope. Everywhere hundreds of people followed him chanting: 'Ali bomaye! Ali bomaye!' That would make anybody feel uncomfortable and George was no different."

The fight merely proved an extension of Ali's dominance.

Foreman unleashed a ferocious barrage on Ali in the opening two rounds, pinning him against the ropes: to the untrained eye, it looked just a matter of time before Ali would succumb.

Foreman's camp had misgivings, though. Caplan said: "At the end of the second round, I could see George sucking in air, breathing hard. I said to the photographer: 'Oh my God, we're going to blow this fight'."

An exhausted Foreman could not sustain his assault and, late in the eighth round, Ali struck with a fearsome straight right to send him spiralling to the canvas.