It was sometime in the late 1980s. I think. When George Foreman punched me in the face.

Foreman was in Houston and I was sent to do a story on the legendary fighter while working at the Dallas Morning News. Foreman was in the middle of his metamorphosis from a scowling boxing bad guy into one of the sport’s greatest ambassadors. Then, later, an all-time pitchman.

People would stop by a makeshift gym in his garage and he would lightly spar with them. Toy with them, really. Using a fraction of his power to make a point: boxing is hard.

So he lightly punched me. In the face. In the core. In my arms. He laughed and then hugged me, and then told stories. His smile was something. It was genuine and kind and behind it were stories, and he’d tell them until you got your fill. About Muhammad Ali. About rumbles. In jungles. About the life. That boxing life.

Foreman wanted you to understand that human beings were in the ring. Not robots. Not soulless punchers. People with lives and cares in the world. He wanted you to see the humanity in fighters because of how he was once portrayed as a boxing Frankenstein that lumbered and growled. He succeeded. Through all of the controversies and multi-phasic aspects of his being was someone who, in the end, wanted you to like him, and love boxing.

He sold millions of George Foreman Grills. In the ring, he busted grills. He laughed. He retired. He came back. He got old. He still busted grills. He had 12 children. Seemingly nine boxing lives. Almost as many wives. He was hated. He was skilled. But most of all, in the end, he was cherished. There are few people across the globe who don’t know that name.

Foreman has died at 76, according to a statement released by his family Friday night on his official Instagram account. You will hear about his staggering number of boxing accomplishments. They are many and they are important. The “Rumble in the Jungle” happened in 1974 when Ali knocked out Foreman in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). That fight is one of the greatest sporting events of all time.

“For years afterwards I would agonize, ‘How could this happen?’ ” he once said. “That night I lost everything I ever was. It was the most devastating event in my life as an athlete. I was not even a man no more.”

Ali was able to neutralize Foreman’s power by staying on the ropes and blocking Foreman’s big punches: rope-a-dope.

“I was one strong heavyweight punching fighter,” Foreman told Reuters in 2007. “I was one punching machine and that was the first time I delivered everything I had and nothing worked.”

Foreman would rebound. He and Ali would become friends. Foreman also became extremely religious and later returned to boxing in 1987, fought for another decade, and in 1994 became the heavyweight champ at the ancient boxing age of 45. After winning it, he received a letter from Ali.

“Can you imagine that?” Foreman told USA TODAY Sports. “Who would think almost 20 years later, there’s Muhammad, my conqueror, congratulating me in fighting for the championship of the world and winning it.”

Foreman was such a boxing force that he did something many human beings cannot: He evolved. Foreman was initially more of a brawler. He was still that, of course, but his skillset grew. That evolution allowed him to compete against much younger fighters as he got older.

“When you fight for the heavyweight championship of the world it does feel unbelievable, it doesn’t feel like you’re really there, it could be a dream,” he told Boxing News in 2023. “‘You’re going to wake up soon, you don’t belong in the ring with these guys.’ The second time around, I could deal with all those thoughts. It was a special moment, more so than when I won the fight with (Joe) Frazier.”

Those are all the boxing things. They are important. In general, Foreman lived. It wasn’t a perfect life. When you’re married four times, well, there are some things there. He was also once accused of child sexual abuse. He denied the allegations.

Foreman would notice that being pleasant sold better than the other thing. Maybe that’s who he always was. But we are all lucky to have seen that side of him.

Boxing won’t be the same without George Foreman.