Even if he didn’t have that many amateur fights, that portion of his career lasted a few years, so he wasn’t some kind of Cinderella story from the backwoods. In fact, as an amateur the 6-foot-2, 250-pound Rahman was on track to be something akin to an updated Mike Tyson.

Mack Lewis, a storied local boxing figure in Baltimore, taught Rahman the basics when the latter was just a teenager. “Mr. Mack” also schooled world champion Vincent Pettway and contenders Larry Middleton and Alvin Anderson. From there, Rahman caught the eye of former Tyson trainer Kevin Rooney, and he shipped off to the Catskills to train in Tyson’s old stomping grounds.

A mix of the frustration that comes from having a style better suited for the pros and clashing with Rooney drove Rahman back toward Baltimore. “[Rooney] wanted me to adopt Tyson’s peek-a-boo style, but that wasn’t for me,” Rahman later said.

Rahman hooked up with Sugar Ray Leonard’s old trainer Janks Morton and abandoned his dream of winning gold in the 1996 Olympics by turning pro in late ’94 under promoter Cedric Kushner.

Lennox Lewis already won and lost a heavyweight title by the time Rahman entered the paid ranks. And the mid-1990s were jammed with the uncertainty that came with a new generation of fighters and no dominant heavyweight champion. Nobody seemed to keep their title belt for very long, including Lewis.

The first time a right hand changed Lewis’ life and trajectory as champion, it came from Oliver McCall, an old Tyson sparring partner. For just about everyone in boxing, Lewis’ stoppage loss, and loss of the WBC title, confirmed just how chaotic and unreliable the division was. The sport needed a heavyweight champion who could unify the division and unite the dwindling masses, but it would settle for some replacements.

In the September 1996 issue of The Ring, then-editor Steve Farhood plunked down an A-to-Z list of heavyweights poised for success. It included South African Courage Tshabalala and Nigerian David Izonritei, bangers David Tua and Shannon Briggs and talented Chris Byrd, Andrew Golota and Kirk Johnson. Rahman made the list under R, albeit with only a brief paragraph compared to the chunks of text accompanying a number of the growing big men.

Lewis had moved well beyond that stage of his career, and he’d already reclaimed the WBC belt in a rematch with McCall. Beginning with that fight, Lewis tore through the upper reaches of the division, defeating Golota, Briggs, Evander Holyfield, Tua and Michael Grant, plus a few others.

Rahman fought his way to 29-0, and something about a heavyweight with a few dozen victories and no losses catches the eye of sly promoters. The legendary and notorious Don King slinked his way into the picture and allegedly threw money at Rahman in order to guide the fighter away from Kushner and into his own stable, and it worked. Rahman accepted money from both promoters and ended up where nearly every heavyweight champion has in recent decades: a courtroom.

The cold hands of comeuppance then throttled Rahman’s career momentum as he went 5-2 in his next seven fights after signing with King. Losses to Tua and Oleg Maskaev were understandable but nevertheless damaging.

The fight that lifted Rahman’s ranking enough to be considered a viable contender for Lewis was a back-and-forth war with South African Corrie Sanders, who’d been associated with Kushner. Both men hit the deck that evening, but, with his career literally on the line, Rahman rallied and overwhelmed Sanders for a seventh-round stoppage.

While Lewis struggled in spots, the worst he looked was against Holyfield in their rematch. A potential huge money showdown with Tyson almost materialized for him several times, and the two even sparred in Tyson’s training camp as amateurs. “Iron” Mike’s constant legal trouble remained an issue, and Tyson’s suspension resulting from a failed post-fight drug test temporarily killed the fight again, leaving the door open to revive the old 1970s trick of taking a heavyweight title fight to an exotic locale.

Rahman’s pitched battles against mid-level contenders rendered him a considerable underdog when he got the call to face Lewis at Carnival City Casino in Brakpan, South Africa. Sports books quoted odds ranging from 15/1 and 20/1 against Rahman, who claimed years earlier that Morton taught him a great left hook. But even Lewis knew all Rahman had was a right hand.

The reasoning behind Lewis accepting a brief role in the film “Ocean’s Eleven” and only arriving in South Africa 12 days before the fight is left to the stars. Perhaps it was the same attraction to fame tempting every heavyweight champion. Nobody knows but Lewis, but they were costly mistakes.

Hindsight nearly forces us to see a sluggish and lazy champion in Round 1. Lewis fought with his hands low and caught errant punches Rahman had no business landing. It looked like a number of his other fights against wily opponents, though, and Lewis sometimes just took a few rounds to settle in. That was normal for him. Abnormal was falling for Rahman’s body jab only to get caught by a right hand over the top.

The way Rahman squared himself and his heavy feet set him up for Lewis’ jab and right hand, but the champ dispensed with nuance and chucked power, and Rahman’s awkward leaning made him an almost accidental slippery target. By the end of Round 2, Lewis was breathing with his mouth open.

Lewis only needed a few right hands to swell Rahman’s left eye. Fighting a mile above sea level seemed to be catching up to Lewis, who stopped working as the fighters collided inside in Round 3, while Rahman threw hard punches to the body with his free hand. Then Lewis stormed from his corner and attacked for the first minute of Round 4, dropping his hands afterward as his stamina disappeared.

Between rounds, trainer Emanuel Steward instructed his charge to throw his left hook and Lewis initially did. Rahman went to the ropes as a ploy and Lewis followed, visibly too tired to capitalize. Halfway through the round, Rahman opened up and landed a few right hands over Lewis’ nonexistent guard. Lewis tried a maneuver of his own by leaning to his right and baiting Rahman to throw his own. The champion then slid to the ropes and Rahman crashed a right hand through his guard. Lewis loudly hit the canvas and was counted out.

The in-ring scene played out as it had countless times before. A dazed fighter comforted by his team as the victor rejoiced, swarmed by supporters, cheered by new converts.

An inevitable post-mortem on the fight focused on Lewis’ lack of preparation, though U.S. fight media turned patriotic and celebrated the heavyweight title’s return to its old resting place. Rahman’s win conjured the name of lightweight great and Baltimore native Joe Gans, among others, and one of the first things he told his team was, “They’re coming to get me.”

“They” were the rest of the division’s contenders. But Rahman said he wanted Tyson next and claimed Lewis asked him for a rematch. It felt like the dawn of a new heavyweight era, as it always does in the wake of a huge upset.

But that title arrives with a whole new set of problems in the modern world. And Hasim Rahman wasn’t supposed to be the heavyweight champion.