The loss of Muhammad Ali 10 years ago, a loss felt by every boxing fan and beyond, inspired staff at The Ring to compile a list of the 10 greatest living legends, which reads as follows:

Sadly and predictably, the some on the list are no longer among us. That means updating the list required some reshuffling and adding a few names, who join the greatest fighters alive.

Bernard Hopkins fought for what seemed like centuries. In other bygone eras of boxing, there were fighters like Archie Moore and Chalky Wright who waited years for their due and may have been deprived of their physical primes in doing so. Similarly, Hopkins watched as other fighters in the 1990s became stars and money machines even though he too was a world champion. The forced patience made Hopkins bitter, and it also made him determined.

Many assumed Hopkins’ boxing career started after his incarceration, but he was briefly a notable amateur before he did his time in Graterford, Pennsylvania’s largest maximum security prison. It took Hopkins years to work his way into contention, and he lost a decision to Roy Jones Jr. in his first title shot. Then it took another 18 months for a title shot against Segundo Mercado in Ecuador, which ended in a draw after Hopkins hit the deck twice. The world was always against him.

Hopkins returned to stop Mercado for the title in a rematch and proceeded to not lose for a decade. He wiped out the side of the division that would actually face him before finally entering into Don King’s middleweight tournament in the early 2000s, which ended with him handing the great Félix Trinidad his first loss. Hopkins went on to beat Oscar De La Hoya, Antonio Tarver, Winky Wright, Kelly Pavlik and even Roy Jones in a stale rematch. The old man held off on pushing up daisies and won titles at light heavyweight, albeit in a division thrown into disarray. But in doing so, Hopkins became boxing’s oldest ever world champion at 48 years old and nearly held a title into his 50s.

The easiest counter-argument to anything regarding Hopkins and his accomplishments is the negative style he employed during the last portion of his career. His style change was necessary in order to survive among younger, strong and more athletically gifted fighters. Unfortunately his updated style included outright trickery and fouling, neither of which were aesthetically pleasing. What Hopkins did was show that motivation and hard work could overcome natural gifts and lead to unreal longevity.

Thomas Hearns, like Durán and Leonard, was an icon in the 1980s. And like those two, his name power lasted into the next decade. Unlike the other two, Hearns was an actual world title threat for the first half of the 90s. Whether going by “The Hitman” or “The Motor City Cobra,” Hearns was a fearsome puncher and stylish boxer who could either undress an opponent with skill, knock their block off or both.

Funnily enough, Hearns wasn’t a puncher whatsoever as an amateur. He fought more than 150 times before turning pro and scored somewhere around 10 stoppages, but caught attention with his performances in 1976 and 1977 before turning professional and quickly becoming a local attraction in Detroit.

Urban legends from around Detroit’s Kronk Gym said Hearns was the only person who could park his car wherever he wanted and leave it unlocked because nobody would dare touch it. The soft-spoken Hearns wouldn’t have hurt any offenders, but was so respected in the neighborhood that others may have. Hearns did his hurt-dealing in the ring.

He thrashed a series of ranked welterweights before even winning a title, which he did by unseating hard-punching Pipino Cuevas by classic stoppage. Hearns lost the “Fight of the Year” against Leonard, but moved up to junior middleweight to beat Wilfred Benítez for a title before crushing Roberto Durán.

He followed up a loss to Marvelous Marvin Hagler in a three-round war with a run that included titles in three more divisions as he narrowly beat Leonard to become boxing’s first five-division world champion. Despite being snakebitten in two fights with Iran Barkley, Hearns beat Dennis Andries, Juan Domingo Roldán, Virgil Hill and Michael Olajide around the same time before his legs finally became too creaky to carry him.

Decades after his retirement, Hearns is still a fan favorite. He was vulnerable and could be hurt even in fights he won, and that was probably relatable for many. But one of the truisms of boxing, that nobody ever really outboxed Thomas Hearns, is still true.

Lennox Lewis defeated every fighter he faced as a professional. Not many fighters can truthfully say that. Lewis ushered in a new era of giant heavyweights capable of doing more than depending on their size and reach with a jab and right hand. Huge heavyweights with skill who can use their legs and stick to a game plan. Bob Fitzsimmons, boxing’s first three-division world champion and the last British heavyweight champion before Lewis, once famously said, “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” Until roughly Lewis’ time, Fitzsimmons was correct.

Standing about 6-foot-5 and weighing 240 pounds, Lewis towered over most opponents, but not all. He participated in two Olympics, winning gold in 1988 with a stoppage of top U.S. amateur Riddick Bowe. Lewis then cleaned out the remnants of a fun 1980s British heavyweight scene before winning the British and European titles, which was the normal path toward a world title in past eras.

Had Bowe not literally thrown his WBC title into a trash can to avoid facing Lewis as a pro, the latter may have gotten another win over Bowe. Instead Lewis settled for being bizarrely awarded Bowe’s belt between wins over “Razor” Ruddock and Tony Tucker. Two heavyweight title reigns were interrupted by knockout losses, and both were avenged. Otherwise Lewis took out Frank Bruno, Tommy Morrison, Ray Mercer, Andrew Golota, Shannon Briggs, Evander Holyfield, Mike Tyson and Vitali Klitschko.

Lewis’ losses to Oliver McCall and Hasim Rahman stand out on his record, and detractors point to both losses as evidence that Lewis can’t be great. On the other hand, Lewis did what he could to emphatically erase the losses and is one of only two fighters on this list to retire before it was far too late.

Evander Holyfield was never supposed to be big enough to win the heavyweight title, much less more than once. Mark Breland and Pernell Whitaker were flashier and more talented boxers on the 1984 U.S. Olympic boxing team who got much of the attention and press, and Holyfield, who won bronze after being unfortunately disqualified on a late punch, was in No Man's Land at cruiserweight. He was underestimated from the start.

Holyfield faced and beat Dwight Muhammad Qawi in one of the cruiserweight division’s greatest brawls in only his 12th pro fight in 1986, and the quality of his opposition never dipped below the world class level for long after that.

He became the first undisputed cruiserweight champion, beating Qawi in a rematch, Carlos de León and Olympic teammate Henry Tillman along the way. Holyfield then tore through the heavyweight division, namely plowing down “Buster” Douglas, George Foreman, Larry Holmes and secondary bombers Michael Dokes and Bert Cooper.

He lost and regained the title in an insane two-fight series with Riddick Bowe before doing the same with Michael Moorer, squeezing two unforgettable fights with archnemesis Mike Tyson in there. Then when everyone was certain Holyfield was used, done and washed up, he battled Lennox Lewis twice and John Ruiz three times, winning only one of those fights yet coming out on the other side nearly even-up. He fought the rest of his career on fumes and still should have gotten a decision over Nikolai Valuev for his WBA title in 2008, but was robbed.

The mayhem of 1990s heavyweight boxing has to include Holyfield. He was encouraged to retire for the last half of the decade and still did some of his best work, much of it in his losses. If he were given the same heavyweight division Holmes inherited, perhaps he could have been more consistent. A few wins and losses depended on judges and officials, though, and Holyfield tamed 90s heavyweights as well as anyone.

Roy Jones, Jr. is another polarizing figure, albeit not nearly on the level of a Mayweather. Jones’ career has an arc to it that resembles many great fighters’ careers: a strong beginning and middle followed by struggles and a bad downturn. The perception that Jones refused to challenge himself when he physically peaked led to hooting from both fans and fight media, though his improvisational style and athletic gifts are still impressive many years later.

Jones should have won gold in the 1988 Olympics. The judging robbery that netted him a silver medal instead not only affected his bottom line as a budding fighter, it reportedly wore on his confidence and his trust in officials. Jones nevertheless defeated a somewhat inexperienced version of Bernard Hopkins for his first world title and set up a grudge match against James Toney, which Jones won in style. He dominated the light heavyweight division before triumphantly winning a heavyweight title.

When Antonio Tarver stopped Jones in their 2004 rematch, it forced a reassessment of Jones’ time at light heavyweight, where he never won the lineal title despite collecting three of the major belts (in the era before the WBO was fully recognized in the “undisputed” claim) and never faced overseas champion Dariusz Michalczewski.

Jones’ fragility and careful style after the stoppage loss to Tarver led to more losses and an inconsistent output. Contrary to common opinion, however, the losses don’t cancel out previous accomplishments, like wins over hall of famers Mike McCallum and Virgil Hill.

While “pound for pound” is a make-believe concept that can’t really be quantified, something about the inability to see Jones work his magic against a monster who could challenge him added to his mystique. He sat at or near the top of pound-for-pound lists for years, even if he never quite broke through to the mainstream.

Floyd Mayweather, Jr. polarized fight audiences two decades ago and he still does now. For example, many bristle at the idea of him being included on this list at all, believing him to be a complete fraud who manufactured his career and never fought a great fighter at their peak. Meanwhile others will insist Mayweather should clearly be at the top of this list due to his undefeated record, never mind his defensive mastery and obvious skills. The idea that reality is closer to the middle is both cliché and true here.

Mayweather signed with Top Rank, one of boxing’s premier promoters, not long after winning bronze at the 1996 Olympics, and he fought his entire career in the spotlight. It’s inaccurate to call him manufactured, though he was indeed deliberately guided to stardom before striking out on his own amid problems with Top Rank.

Mayweather’s transformation into a superstar and celebrity brought with it the option to control his own destiny and choose who he fought and when. He both wisely chose his opponents and worked so hard in the gym that it appeared no version of that opponent could have defeated “Money” Mayweather. He handled the likes of Genaro Hernández, Diego Corrales, José Luis Castillo, Arturo Gatti, Oscar de la Hoya, Ricky Hatton, Shane Mosley, Miguel Cotto, Canelo Álvarez and finally Manny Pacquiao, and often in such dominant fashion that it upset viewers.

Again it seems Mayweather and Pacquiao could be switched without issue, apart from strong fan feelings. They are almost certainly the two best fighters of their time, and for some, Mayweather’s win in their head-to-head clash puts him ahead. Mayweather’s résumé needs Pacquiao more than the opposite, though, especially when factoring in Pacquiao’s smaller size.

Manny Pacquiao the fighter is a national hero to most people in the Philippines. Blind and reckless aggression may have described Pacquiao at one time, but that wasn’t the fighter he became.

Over time, “Pac Man” developed from a one-handed fighter into an opponent one simply couldn’t stay still against for long, because an attack from either hand at any angle could come sailing in at any moment. Pacquiao, who may even still be fighting in 2026, was one of the greatest southpaw fighters of all time.

Pacquiao’s rise through the weight classes is one of the greatest of modern times. He won the lineal flyweight title in 1998, grew out of the division and lost the title on the scale before suffering a KO loss. Pacquiao then jumped up 10 pounds and won titles from junior featherweight to junior middleweight over the course of the next decade.

He shocked the U.S. fight scene by defeating the great Mexican trio of Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales and Juan Manuel Márquez, then clobbered Hall of Famers Oscar de la Hoya, Ricky Hatton, Miguel Cotto and Shane Mosley before avenging a loss to another hall of famer in Tim Bradley. Pacquiao has only fought twice in the last several years and it’s not clear how effective he can be anymore, but his win over Keith Thurman in 2019 was like proving a final, painful point: Pacquiao’s greatness shouldn’t be overlooked.

The questions asked of Pacquiao that might possibly hold him back in this discussion, namely those regarding PED use, could frankly be asked of any fighter in recent years. Pacquiao’s accomplishments put him under the microscope, and his accomplishments make him one of the best fighters of his era, if not the best.

Larry Holmes spent much of his career, especially during his championship reign, struggling for the respect he felt he deserved. He fought against the public and its fresh memory of Muhammad Ali, the last dominant heavyweight champion, and he dealt with a division recovering from a thrilling and damaging round-robin. One thing a Holmes opponent could expect throughout it all was a terrible jab in their face.

At about 6-foot-3 and 225 pounds, Holmes stood tall enough and weighed heavy enough for the larger heavyweights suddenly exploding onto the scene in the 1980s, but he wasn’t a lumbering fighter by any means and he could fight inside if an opponent forced him to, like in Holmes’ title-winning victory against Ken Norton.

He was pushed hard and occasionally hurt and decked, like against Earnie Shavers and Renaldo Snipes, and he found ways to win and persevere despite enduring criticism throughout his reign. He came within one win of breaking Rocky Marciano’s record before finally losing the lineal heavyweight title after making 20 defenses.

Even a halfway-interested Holmes remained a relevant force in the heavyweight division into the 90s as he defeated Ray Mercer and kept both Evander Holyfield and Oliver McCall honest in title fights.

Holmes’ overall consistency as champion is something most fighters simply never experience. The proliferation of world titles means world champions are easier to come by, but dominant world champions are still rare. Considering his link to the era of Ali, Holmes may be the rarest on the list.

“Sugar” Ray Leonard didn’t invent the formula where a star amateur fighter wins Olympic gold and presses that advantage in the pro ranks, though he certainly became its ambassador. He also has the fewest fights of anyone on the list, in part because he was fast-tracked as a young pro and chose his fights carefully after becoming a world champion. Leonard also packed about as much greatness into his 40 pro fights as he could have.

Leonard defeated Wilfred Benítez to become a world champion and then avenged his first loss to Durán and won a war against nemesis Thomas Hearns. Both Benítez and Hearns were undefeated, and the way in which Leonard vanquished Durán was so complete and embarrassing it added a Spanish phrase to the American English lexicon.

He then added three more world titles to his ledger with wins over Marvelous Marvin Hagler and Donny Lalonde, making him a five-division world champion.

It seems counterintuitive that Leonard might be ranked below Durán, who Leonard defeated twice. If the two were switched on the list on that basis alone, there would likely be few complaints, though a fighter’s body of work can certainly outweigh the single win of the opponent who defeated them.

Roberto Durán, the legendary son of Panamá, fought for so long that his career moved in stages and lasted from 1968 to 2001. During that time he captured a title at lightweight and nearly cleared out the division before skipping 140 pounds to defeat “Sugar” Ray Leonard for a welterweight title in one of the greatest fights of the 1980s. Durán then quickly transformed into someone the public loved to pillory after he quit against Leonard in their rematch, making his comebacks even sweeter.

Durán somehow still had a good decade of viability as a top fighter following the fiasco of the Leonard rematch. His name value alone kept selling into the 90s as Héctor Camacho sought the old former champion out for a showdown and Durán found himself a win or two away from a potential title shot more than once.

The value of an undefeated record, thus the weight of professional losses, has been ridiculously overestimated in recent years. In other eras, the idea of any fighter retiring undefeated was laughable. It meant a fighter wasn’t properly challenged. Like most great fighters who simply fought too long, Durán suffered half of his losses in the last portion of his career, and his record looks better the more time goes by.