From the archive · September 24, 1994
Lennox Lewis vs Oliver McCall
WBC World Heavyweight Title · Wembley Arena, London, England
Record 25-0-0 · 238 lb
Record 24-5-0 · 231¼ lb

The fight
Oliver McCall caused one of the major heavyweight surprises of the 1990s when he stopped Lennox Lewis after only 31 seconds of the second round at Wembley Arena in London on September 24, 1994. Lewis, unbeaten in 25 professional contests and making the fourth defence of the WBC heavyweight championship, weighed 238lb. McCall weighed 231lb and entered with 24 victories against five defeats. The challenger was a 5½-1 outsider before approximately 7,000 spectators, with much of the advance discussion centred upon Lewis’s expected future meeting with Riddick Bowe rather than the immediate danger presented by McCall.
McCall’s record did not suggest an obvious championship winner, but it contained enough evidence to make him a serious opponent. He had beaten Jesse Ferguson and the previously unbeaten Bruce Seldon and had gone the full distance with Tony Tucker. He had also spent extensive periods as one of Mike Tyson’s sparring partners and had acquired a reputation for exceptional durability. Most importantly, his trainer, Emanuel Steward, had studied Lewis carefully and believed some openings could be exploited when the champion committed himself to the right hand. McCall’s task was not to outbox Lewis over 12 rounds but to remain composed, make the champion lead and be prepared to counter when Lewis reached or allowed his balance to move too far forward.
The first round was cautious and contained little sustained action. Lewis attempted to establish the long left jab and generally occupied the centre of the ring, while McCall watched and waited rather than trying to force his way inside. Neither heavyweight landed frequently. Lewis had the advantage in height and reach and appeared the more authoritative boxer when he did commit himself, but McCall was never hurried and showed no inclination to exchange unnecessarily. The official scoring reflected the round’s narrow nature. Judges Franz Marti and Giuseppe Ferrari scored it 10-9 for Lewis, while Jae Bong Kim had it even at 10-10.
Lewis came out more aggressively for the second and immediately tried to impose himself. In doing so, he made the mistake for which McCall had been waiting. The champion stepped forward and committed himself to the attack, leaving himself open as his weight moved in. Contemporary Associated Press reports described McCall landing a left hook followed by a hard right, while later accounts generally identify the right counter as the decisive blow. Whatever the precise sequence, the right landed flush on the jaw and dropped Lewis heavily onto the seat of his trunks. The blow was short, accurately timed and delivered at the instant the champion was exposed rather than set in a defensive position.
Lewis rose before the count was completed, but his recovery was uncertain. Referee Jose Guadalupe Garcia continued to examine him as the champion regained his feet. Lewis lifted his gloves and appeared mentally aware of what was happening, but his legs were plainly unsteady. As Garcia moved towards him, Lewis staggered and fell into the referee. Garcia immediately stopped the contest. Only 31 seconds of the second round had elapsed. Lewis protested at once and maintained that he should have been permitted to continue, arguing afterwards that he had been caught by a fortunate punch and had recovered sufficiently to defend himself. His corner was equally dissatisfied. Garcia’s view was that Lewis had failed to demonstrate adequate control of his legs and could not safely have been allowed to face McCall’s inevitable follow-up attack.
The stoppage produced argument because Lewis recovered quickly once the contest had been waved over. Those closest to the action, however, generally considered Garcia’s decision reasonable. Lewis had risen, but he had not shown the steady balance expected of a fighter being allowed to continue after a heavy knockdown. His status as champion did not alter the referee’s responsibility. McCall, meanwhile, had no interest in the controversy. He was overwhelmed by the result and wept afterwards, having become WBC heavyweight champion in a contest few had expected him to win.
For Lewis, the defeat was particularly damaging because greater plans had already been discussed. A lucrative meeting with Bowe had been anticipated, and the assumption in many quarters was that McCall represented another defence on the way towards that contest. The result exposed the danger in looking beyond a mandatory challenger at heavyweight. Lewis had been stopped not by a prolonged beating but by a technical error and a perfectly timed counter. He had moved into range without first securing McCall behind the jab, committed himself to the right hand and remained open long enough for the challenger to answer. At heavyweight, one such mistake was sufficient.
Lewis subsequently made substantial changes. He parted company with trainer Pepe Correa and eventually employed Steward, the very man who had prepared McCall to beat him. Steward worked on Lewis’s balance, his use of the jab and the need to avoid reaching unnecessarily with the right hand. Under him, Lewis became a more patient and technically complete heavyweight, learning to establish control of distance before committing his heavier punches. The defeat at Wembley therefore became an important dividing point in his career rather than its conclusion.
For McCall, it remained the defining victory of his career. He had entered as the outsider, refused to be intimidated by Lewis’s physical advantages and followed a disciplined plan until the opening appeared. The contest lasted barely more than three minutes, but it demonstrated one of heavyweight boxing’s simplest truths. Lewis possessed the superior record, greater reach and broader expectations. McCall possessed the better timing when it mattered, and one accurately delivered right hand took the championship from him.
The House on this fight
I’ve never accepted that Oliver McCall’s victory over Lennox Lewis was a lucky punch. Lewis was unbeaten, defending the WBC title at Wembley and already being spoken about for a lucrative meeting with Riddick Bowe. McCall had lost five times and was treated like another obstacle, but he was dangerous, granite-chinned and carrying a powerful right hand. More importantly, Emanuel Steward had studied the flaw in Lennox’s delivery.
Lewis looked impatient. Instead of controlling McCall behind that long jab, he reached with the right and left himself square and exposed. Thirty-one seconds into the second round, McCall slipped the attack and drove a perfectly timed counter right onto the chin. Lennox went down heavily. He beat the count, but when referee José Guadalupe Garcia asked him to step forward, his legs betrayed him, and he stumbled into the referee. The stoppage was correct. A fighter raising his gloves means nothing when his body is not obeying him.
McCall and Steward had worked on that exact counter. It was not a wild swing or a gift from the gods; it was preparation meeting a technical mistake. Lewis complained afterwards, but the defeat ultimately improved him. He replaced Pepe Correa with Steward and became far more disciplined about distance, balance and bringing his hands home.
For me, this was the necessary defeat in Lewis’s career. McCall exposed his carelessness, and Lennox later rebuilt himself into a much more complete heavyweight.