Roy Foreman: Back then, being the heavyweight champion of the world was like being the president of the United States. Now George was the former president of the United States. Everyone from your girlfriend to your brothers and sisters don’t look at you the same, now you’ve got ‘ex’ in front of your name.

It took him eight to 10 years to get over the devastation. He’d made $5m, a lot back then, so he was buying this and buying that – another house, another car, getting this girl, getting that girl, trying to show everybody he was still the champ. But he wasn’t the champ, he was the chump now.

George Foreman: I just couldn’t believe I’d lost the world title. This was supposed to be an easy boxing match but it was the most embarrassing moment of my life. It went from pride to pity. That’s devastating.

I’d be ashamed to be alone with girls in a room. I’d think: ‘They know I’m not the man I was supposed to be.’ You think you’re going to walk away with $5m and everything is going to be OK. But you can’t buy back your pride. All you want is the chance to be champion of the world again.

I’ve watched the fight back a few times and sometimes I think: ‘I’m gonna win this time!’ Or I might wake up and think: ‘If only I’d done this or done that.’ But only once did I win the fight in my dreams…

Jerry Izenberg: About an hour after the fight finished we had such a torrential downpour. Then, suddenly, the sun came up – one of those big African sunrises – and we all jumped on a bus and went back to the military compound where all the journalists were staying.

Three of us went to look for Ali and found him staring out at the river. Just staring. For once, three sportswriters had the good sense and brains not to open their damn mouths. We let him drink it in.

Eventually he turned around, walked towards us, raised his arms in the air and said: ‘You fellas will never know how much this means to me.’ At that moment, he truly was the king of the world.