Throughout his boxing career, Larry Holmes was something of an afterthought. He was the heavyweight champion whose reign came after the fall of Muhammad Ali, the toughest of all acts to follow.

He was the fighter who almost broke Rocky Marciano’s record for consecutive wins. He possessed one of the greatest jabs in boxing history, but it was still only a jab. It is the knockout punches – the hooks and uppercuts – that sell tickets and inspire fearsome nicknames.

But in Easton, Pennsylvania, Holmes has always been the greatest. Now 66, he is also in pretty good shape for a fighter.

He has been married 36 years (“To the same woman!” he brags), and he has lived almost his entire life in this city of about 30,000 where the Delaware and Lehigh rivers meet. He owns a sports bar and a couple of office buildings in town, one of which includes a federal courtroom and a small jail.

“I got my own jail, and I ain’t in it,” he says, as if the joke summarised his life’s accomplishments.

In December, Easton dedicated a bronze statue of Holmes and sponsored a parade through the city’s streets in his honour. Men and women waved handmade signs. The mayor wore a red-and-white satin “Larry Holmes” jacket that he said he had owned since 1978.

Another Holmes fan wore an old Larry Holmes belt buckle and a button that read: “You’re Our Super Star Larry Holmes.”

Wonderful things

Holmes’s wife, Diane, a small woman with a big voice, herded relatives and guests out of the Champ’s Corner restaurant and out on to the street.

Assembled behind the Easton Area High School marching band were promoter Don King, Muhammad Ali's former manager Gene Kilroy, boxers Gerry Cooney, Bobby Czyz and Earnie Shavers and a gaggle of local politicians.

Diane had to pull Holmes back in line as he wandered off the parade route to say hello to friends.

By the time everyone reached the riverfront park where the statue would be unveiled, about 2,000 Eastonians waited to hear from Holmes.

First, they had to listen to a lot of other speeches, but Eastonians know that crazy and sometimes wonderful things happen when Holmes speaks, so they were patient.

When it was Holmes’s turn, he stood up from his folding chair, removed the microphone from its stand and began strolling around the stage.

“This is great,” he said. “I never thought anything like this would happen. A Larry Holmes statue on Larry Holmes Drive!” He laughed, almost girlishly.

“How many people you know have a statue? How many people you know have a street named after them? Shout it out!”

No one shouted it out, but there was a good deal of laughter. He thanked the mayor, Sal Panto jnr, who grew up with Holmes in the Delaware Terrace public housing project.

“You became our mayor, and I became rich,” Holmes said.

Doubters

Then he thanked the people of Easton. When he started boxing professionally, Holmes said, he knew that everyone in Easton thought he would never be a champion. When he became champion, he knew that everyone in Easton thought he would never last.

When he got rich, he knew that everyone in Easton thought he would blow his money in a week. All along the way, he worked hard to prove the doubters wrong.

“I tried to do the right thing,” he said. “I tried to be a good man.” Holmes said he could have moved to New York or Las Vegas, but he was worried that those cities would chew him up. Easton was safer.

“I wanted to stay here, where I could be normal,” he said.

New grandson

Holmes went on for about 20 minutes, telling jokes and spreading the thanks. But the statue had not yet been unveiled, and the television crews were getting anxious.

Finally, someone on the stage, possibly Diane, yelled at Holmes to start wrapping it up. Holmes did not take the hint. He had more jokes. He wanted to show the crowd his newest grandson.

“It’s getting dark!” someone – possibly Diane – shouted. Finally, he got the message.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Holmes said. “We’re about to unveil the statue, but I don’t want to stop. You could’ve been anywhere in the world. You didn’t have to be here.

"But you came here to be with me, and I appreciate it. I ain't ever gonna forget, and I ain't ever gonna leave. If you ever see my house for sale, it's because we're downsizing. I ain't leaving." – (New York Times service)