Director: Albert Maysles
I feel bad for Larry Holmes.
He's that dude who deserves to be voted into the starting lineup of the All-Star Game every year but gets bumped to coming off the bench because a bazillion fans voted for an injured Yao Ming instead.
Holmes was stuck between two of the most iconic heavyweight fighters in the boxing — Muhammed Ali and Mike Tyson. Despite all his success, he's the forgotten man that connects "The Louisville Lip" to "Iron Mike," and I feel bad for him because of it.
Watching Muhammad and Larry, you see the difference style and personality and charisma can make. It's not that Holmes lacked any of those things; it's just that like everyone else in the world, he couldn't hold a candle to Ali in those departments.
It didn't matter that Holmes was unbeaten and the reigning heavyweight champion of the world or that Ali had been out of the ring for two years prior to their February 1980 meeting at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas — he was facing "The Greatest of All-Time," a no-win situation if ever there was one.
No matter how the fight played out, there was no way Holmes was going to surpass the legacy of Ali; no one in boxing ever will. Ali transcended the sport and remains one of the most influential athletes of all-time, and everyone that came after him prior to Tyson just couldn't compete with the aura of Ali.