The heavyweight division has had 50 years to outdo the mayhem George Foreman and Ron Lyle created. A few fights have come very close, but none have matched it.

Their five rounds at the Caesars Palace Sports Pavilion on Jan. 24, 1976 set a new bar for cartoonish violence. When Sylvester Stallone wrote a similar action sequence in “Rocky” later that year, many called it unrealistic and outlandish, yet anyone who watched Foreman-Lyle knew it could happen in real life.

As with most heavyweight activity in the 1960s and '70s, it all began with Muhammad Ali, whose exile opened the door for the relatively brief reign of Joe Frazier. When Frazier defeated Ali and knocked “The Greatest” from his pedestal, “Smokin’” Joe became a wide favorite over Foreman, who leveled Frazier as if the champion were nothing.

In one of the most famous heavyweight tilts of all time, Ali regained the title and humiliated Foreman so thoroughly it disrupted the big man’s entire life. It took Foreman six months just to even consider getting back into the ring, and when he did it was five exhibitions against five different opponents in one evening as Ali ruthlessly heckled him from ringside the entire time.

Foreman actually fought two other exhibitions in the fall of 1975, but all of his interviews were about “What went wrong for Foreman in Zaire” or how Big George wanted revenge. As Foreman stewed over the outcome of their fight and promoter Don King desperately searched for another exotic location for a potential rematch, Ali moved on, fighting four times in three countries that year.

One of Ali’s fights came against rough-looking ex-con Ron Lyle, who’d served about eight years in prison for murder. Lyle worked on his image after his release and contributed to his community, and he strongarmed his way to a 30-2-1 record, which set up the title shot against Ali.

Lyle tested this latter-day version of Ali, proving the heavyweight division’s most popular icon was slowing down and still vulnerable to certain styles. Even with Ali ultimately winning by 11th-round TKO, Lyle found that fighters could actually parlay a brush with Ali into their own career momentum.

A shootout with heavyweight bomber Earnie Shavers ended with Lyle being one of the few fighters who hit the deck against “The Black Destroyer” and got up to win. For his bravery, the 34-year-old was rewarded with a crack at Foreman.

Don King sought to secure an Ali rematch abroad due to the mixture of Foreman’s financial troubles and his psyche. Like Ali and Frazier before him, Foreman’s career was owned and portioned off to various investors, many of whom wanted some direct control over his career trajectory or compensation in lieu of any say-so. Before Foreman could make any career decisions, George Foreman Associates had to be notified, and later it had to be compensated.

Foreman’s title defenses against Ken Norton and José Román hadn’t been cleared through the proper channels, according to the Associates, which led to several court orders and injunctions that froze everything temporarily. Foreman later blamed his old trainer and manager Dick Sadler, who was dismissed and replaced by Gil Clancy. The Ali payday offered alleviation up front, but the loss exposed every raw nerve Foreman ever had.

Some fighters have the ability to absorb the lessons of a loss and allow that knowledge to guide them forward. Foreman internalized the inadequacy he felt, and he later said the loss made him confront depression before he was ready. Indeed Foreman appeared lost in his exhibitions, at times focusing more on Ali sitting ringside and commentating than he did on his “opponents.”

When it came to media and public relations, Foreman openly dodged interviewers, canceled interview dates and appearances at the last minute and generally didn’t want to answer questions about anything but Ali. It wasn’t until October 1975 that King announced Foreman and Lyle would meet at Caesars Palace’s newly constructed Sports Pavilion. As far as Foreman was concerned, the march back to Ali had begun.

Foreman-Lyle was to be the first of many fight cards hosted there over the next 20 years. With a capacity at about 5,000, it was a more intimate venue than regular Caesars Palace, which could hold about 15,000. A handful of heavyweight contenders showed up to check out the competition, such as Argentina’s Oscar Bonaneva, but virtually everyone in boxing watched from home as Foreman and Lyle christened the joint.

Lyle whiffed with an almost comical right hand immediately after the bell sounded to start Round 1. They then settled in, facing one another down with jabs as hell waited to spill forth.

Lyle had a peculiar style: his stance was long, but he wrenched his torso sideways to offer a very square target to opponents and played patty-cake with his gloves. Without power it would have simply been annoying. But Lyle was a dangerous puncher, so his weird moves often set up knockouts.

Foreman was wise to Lyle’s probing and cracked him with hard jabs. As Lyle began circling around Foreman, the former champ got visibly frustrated and chucked several big punches. Foreman’s tendency to physically push opponents away before attacking also left him open, which Lyle took advantage of by connecting with a thumping right hand in the final 30 seconds of the round that wobbled Foreman’s legs and sent him to his corner hurt.

Again Lyle missed with a right hand to start Round 2, but this time Foreman jabbed and moved, trying to fend him off at a mid-range. But, as Norton said commentating from ringside, “Lyle is giving Foreman no respect.” Lyle’s glove movements deflected some of Foreman’s power, too. Foreman badly hurt Lyle halfway through the round after wisely going to his body, and Lyle walked himself back to the corner. Just as it appeared Foreman could position Lyle for a finish, the round inexplicably ended one minute early.

Strategy nearly went extinct in Round 3, as did various brain cells. Lyle was landing his right hand too often to clock them all, and he wasn’t rugged enough to walk through everything Foreman had and land his own stuff. Lyle went to the ropes and tried to counter there for much of the round, and it was effective as Foreman stood there looking for a killshot. Lyle was vulnerable to the body, but Foreman would have to leave himself wide open to get there.

Again in Round 4, Lyle caught Foreman with a series of punches as the big man foolishly left his arms outstretched. Foreman spun to the canvas and Lyle nearly landed a haymaker with him down. Foreman slowly got up on heavy legs and clinched for a few moments before making a choice that decided his fate: He sunk his feet as far into the canvas as he could and launched missiles and his tormentor. Lyle ate a few hooks and a right hand that sent him down hard.

Lyle gathered himself and took a deep breath before rising. The action resumed and Foreman scrambled to land something that might finish the fight, which had clearly gotten way out of his control. Lyle timed Foreman’s punches and pawed at his gloves, absorbing several big punches before finally countering off the ropes and hurting him in the last 25 seconds of the round. Lyle clubbed some more and forced Foreman to defend himself, and he connected with another right hand immediately before the bell that sent Foreman down and onto his face.

Foreman was led to his corner. That fourth made up for the lost minute in Round 2, but they weren’t done yet.

Round 5 began and Lyle immediately charged like he wanted the fight over with already. Foreman’s punches looked like he simply wanted Lyle to leave him alone, but Lyle hurt him again and he couldn’t even keep his gloves up. Out of nowhere, Lyle also dropped his guard and they were on even, exhausted terms. Foreman drew upon just enough energy to stagger Lyle and send him to the corner, where he used his own punches to prop him up and crash home left and right and left and right, until Lyle sagged to the canvas and was counted out.

“This was a bar-room scuffle, a back alley mugging,” wrote Mike Marley for the Las Vegas Sun. “They should’ve been whacking each other with bottles of Ripple.”

Some observers noted the general lack of skill during the fight, but everyone was entertained and everyone loved it. What it said about both fighters and their futures, however, was another matter.

John Ort wrote for The Ring:

“Every time out now, George will be in a tough contest. He is no longer the invincible, awesome fighter he was before and during his build-up for the championship. Now every bum he boxes figures he has a chance to knock him out. The line starts on the right.”

Time ran out on Lyle before he could get back to a title shot, and who knows how many years Foreman knocked off his career during their vicious encounter. And as for Foreman, nobody, from bums to the best in the world, managed to knock him out again.

For many years, it seemed Foreman’s journey in the sport was over. He became a preacher and a content old ex-fighter before returning to claim his old title. As it turned out, Foreman gave enough of himself that night against Lyle, and others, to be gifted the heavyweight title once more by the boxing gods 18 years later.