That George Foreman’s death was followed by that of Colin Hart made it inevitable that one particular story would be revisited by the many who hold it dear.

When in 1974 the younger Foreman – the imposing, heavy-handed heavyweight with the meanest of streaks and the cold-blooded stare – was on the eve of defending his title against Ken Norton in Caracas, Venezuela, he curtly demanded Hart, present to speak to him on behalf of The Sun newspaper, put out the lit cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Hart, from London’s east end, objected less to the request and more to the way it had been delivered. “Say please,” he firmly responded.

Foreman, inevitably, objected. Hart went on to question the value of Foreman’s victory over Puerto Rico’s overmatched Jose Roman in his previous contest. Foreman, who then carried himself as he did partly because he had modelled himself on Sonny Liston and partly because he was a sensitive figure seeking to protect himself, inevitably objected again. Hart regardless departed with the interview he had sought, and continued to follow Foreman’s decorated career with the same level of access he required to become so celebrated an authority on boxing. Foreman, years later, and a transformed figure on account of his increased perspective and maturity, joked with Hart about the incident, and even signed a copy of his book By George with the message: “To Colin. Put that cigarette out! From the champ.”

One of the most celebrated of all heavyweight champions, clearly, had come to respect Hart’s commitment to his profession. Hart would never have required any gesture to demonstrate that he respected Foreman’s – he would have respected Foreman like he respected so many of Foreman’s predecessors and successors. There were even times it was those who challenged him he appeared to respect the most.

The last time this writer crossed paths with Hart was at Wembley Arena in December, at Brad Pauls-Denzel Bentley, when, once again, he was welcome ringside by Queensberry Promotions. Frank Warren’s promotional organisation was aware he might not write a word that evening, but continued to encourage his enthusiasm for the sport and for fights considerably less significant than some of the most decorated that he had attended throughout the course of a career that earned him his induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.

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Warren and Hart established a long-term professional understanding and friendship that overcame the conflict of interests that sometimes existed between their professions; the promoter even took Hart out to lunch one last time in the weeks before his death.

He and Foreman – unquestionably inevitably – were far from the only individuals tested by Hart’s instincts. Naseem Hamed’s arrogance and disdain for those around him while he was at his peak once contributed to Adam Smith, then of Sky Sports and more recently of DAZN, being reduced to tears. When in 2001 Hamed lost to Marco Antonio Barrera, having repeatedly insisted that it was “Allah’s will” that he would win, Hart, not forgetting that disdain, asked him: “Was it Allah’s night off?”

A question of that nature provokes reminders of the night Larry Merchant, another great of his profession, responded to Vernon Forrest dutifully thanking his sponsors in the aftermath of his controversial points victory over Ike Quartey in 2006 by asking him: “Would you also like to thank the judges?” Even more memorably, Merchant stood his ground with the surly Floyd Mayweather in 2011 after Mayweather’s victory over Victor Ortiz.

Mayweather, as once applied to Hamed, was accustomed to being told only what he wished to hear, and objected to being questioned about the unsatisfactory conclusion of his latest contest. “I’m through, they can put somebody else up here to give me an interview,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Merchant responded.

“You never give me a fair shake,” Mayweather raged. “HBO need to fire you. You don’t know shit about boxing. You ain’t shit! You not shit!”

Merchant, in turn, said: “I wish I was 50 years younger and I’d kick your ass.” He then proceeded to continue doing the job he was being paid to by asking Ortiz about the ending instead.

Mayweather, then the jewel in the crown of HBO Boxing, fought again on HBO and Merchant continued to do his job uninhibited. Mayweather was already one of the most celebrated fighters in history but a recognition that appropriate boundaries continue to be preserved, and of the consequences of not remaining committed to those boundaries, is largely why not only Hart and Merchant are as admired as they are, but also partly why there exists such admiration for Mayweather, Foreman, and others. Without Hart, Merchant and their contemporaries, Jake Paul and other charlatans would encounter far less opposition to false claims about the greatness rightly bestowed upon giants of the ring like Foreman, which those greats had fought so hard to achieve.

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It was the generosity of Turki Alalshikh that meant that the retired Hart was in Riyadh in May for Tyson Fury-Oleksandr Usyk. The charismatic Fury and Usyk were both generous with their time that week as they promoted their fight for the undisputed heavyweight title.

They also committed to a fight that proved as absorbing as so many of those Hart will previously have witnessed, and yet considerable irony exists in the gesture extended to so reputable a journalist because Alalshikh and so many of those around him so transparently do not welcome the nature of journalism on which Hart’s reputation was built.

If Hart was the most celebrated boxing journalist of his generation working out of Britain, then Donald McRae is the most celebrated of his. In the days after Hart’s death McRae was awarded specialist correspondent of the year by the Sports Journalists Association; McRae, an award winner partly because of his willingness to fearlessly report on the ills of Saudi Arabia’s sportswashing efforts, proceeded to say: “Thank you. This means a lot. Boxing was once the most accessible of all sports but so much has changed. Access is controlled and accreditation denied to some credible people. But our small group of dinosaurs will keep trying to write about boxing.”

In the month before Fury-Usyk, this writer, having questioned, in the days before Devin Haney-Ryan Garcia, Garcia’s mental health and suitability to be in the ring, received a loaded message from someone working close to that Golden Boy promotion requesting a conversation. There followed the passive-aggressive approach of a seat on fight night as far as possible from ringside, and the morning after Garcia’s tainted – and since withdrawn – victory the message that “certain boxing writers should abandon their degrees from Armchair Psychologists University (APU) and stick to their chosen professions” (it is important to add that never was there a suggestion of withdrawing or refusing access, or an alternative thinly-veiled threat).

One of Garcia’s former opponents, Gervonta “Tank” Davis, routinely encounters minimal opposition to his reluctance to honour his promotional commitments, which meant that on the eve of his fight with Garcia in 2023 and of his sentencing for a criminal hit-and-run case, those with questions about his sentencing were unable to ask.

Conor Benn recently threatened a journalist by saying, “If somebody starts asking me trick questions, I’ll throw you out the room – I’ll drag you by the neck outside” when the reality remains that while he has consistently maintained his innocence, he has never satisfactorily explained why he failed two drugs tests in the build-up to his abandoned date with Chris Eubank Jnr in 2022.

Anthony Joshua, immediately after his victory in 2020 over Kubrat Pulev, responded to a question about his performance with, “I don’t really want to do an interview, because I just want the fans to appreciate the hard work…”, despite knowing that a pay-per-view fee was charged to those who wanted to watch him fight. 

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By the time Foreman returned to the ring after a near-10-year absence he had reinvented himself. Where once he was aggressive, he had become disarmingly warm, and it was partly that ability to kill those around him with kindness and partly his increased popularity that contributed to his success throughout one of the greatest sports stories – and the very greatest comeback – of all.

In retirement Foreman also became a popular commentator for none other than HBO Boxing. During his comeback he had recognised the value of those like Hart who sought to report on his career, and in his latest guise he worked alongside Merchant as a broadcaster, and established an on-screen rapport with Merchant that has also been fondly remembered since his death.

The reinvented Foreman, once an adversary of Muhammad Ali, could have spoken with as much conviction as anybody of the dangers presented by the countless sycophants who will forever surround fighters, and also about the value to a fighter of granting the nature of access that can build both popularity and a brand. How could the 2023 film Big George Foreman have been shot and given the chance to forever enhance his legacy without that access once being in place?

At some point in the years since the demise of HBO Boxing – and far from simply because of that demise – individuals who see the commercial and reputational value of boxing but who care little for its future or traditions have attempted to redefine the boundaries that have long existed, and to varying degrees they have had some success.

How can it have become more difficult to report on the sport than it was in the far-from-distant days when the alleged narcoterrorist Daniel Kinahan was on course to become its most influential figure?

At a time when so many are rightly fondly reflecting on the legacies of Foreman and Hart, isn’t it therefore important to question whether so much of what both men stood for – and for which above all else they were respected – is actually under threat?