It was the boom heard around the world.
Twenty-one years ago this month, Corrie Sanders became world heavyweight champion when he destroyed the man they called “Dr Steelhammer”, Wladimir Klitschko, in the second round in Hanover, Germany.
It was an explosive, conclusive ending to a fight almost no one gave Sanders a chance of winning. The Golden Gloves fighter was semi-retired, wistfully eyeing a place on the seniors’ pro golf tour, and he had been selected purely as a keep-busy option for the formidable Ukrainian.
Someone clearly forgot to tell that to Sanders. Boxing as if in a hurry, he sensationally dropped Klitschko twice in the first round. With punters still rubbing their disbelieving eyes, Sanders continued the theme in the next round, assaulting the WBO champion and sending him to the canvas twice more before the referee called off the savage beating.
It was an astonishing result, but anyone who knew Sanders had no doubt about his fast hands and powerful punch, thrown from the southpaw stance. When he was in the mood, which wasn’t always, he could knock any heavyweight out. Unfortunately for Klitschko, Sanders brought his A game to Germany.
Perhaps no one was more surprised than promoter Rodney Berman, who had smartly steered the heavyweight through the rocky waters of the division. There had been blips, not least when unheralded Nate Tubbs found a wonder punch in 1994. Six years later, Hasim Rahman stopped Sanders, but only after weathering an onslaught.
“Corrie had been inactive for around 14 months,” he recalled recently. “He was eyeing the golf tour and was regarded as cannon fodder. He hadn’t intended fighting anymore.”
In January 2003, Berman got the call: “Would Corrie be available?”
The situation was complicated. Golden Gloves had been bought out by an English company, with Berman still contracted, but the late Vernon Smith had got his tentacles on Sanders. Despite limited knowledge of the fight game, he was Sanders’ manager of record.
The purse money was modest and Berman chipped in with a chunk of cash to make it worth the boxer’s while. More than that, it was a means to retire with Sanders having blown his money over the years.
Berman had faith. “The best compliment I could pay him was saying he fights like a man of colour. Corrie had it all . . . but his heart wasn’t in it.”
When Sanders brought the house down in Hanover, Berman recognised how clever Sanders had been. With a southpaw trainer in Harold Volbrecht, the pair had devised a shrewd plan, with the required moves, to throw Klitschko off his game.
“I went off my head; we didn’t think he had a hope in hell. I was happy for Corrie: the result was life-changing, and he had a pension.”
As WBO champion, Sanders stood to be well in the money. Berman flew to the US to meet with Don King and worked out a lucrative three-fight deal.
He called Sanders from King’s office and told him as much. But trouble was brewing. When Smith heard of the development, he spoke Sanders out of the deal. The maverick thought he could do better.
Months later, Sanders’ first defence was lined up against Vitali Klitschko, Wladimir’s brother. Berman and Wilf Sauerland, the German promoter, came up with R10-million for the purse bid. But at the last minute, the purse bid fell through. 
It led to a breakdown in the friendship between Berman and Sanders,
The following April, Sanders was in poor shape as he succumbed in eight rounds on a lousy night in Los Angeles.
Years later, with the pair’s relationship still frayed, Sanders called Berman seeking a rapprochement. “His girlfriend told me how excited he was to be visiting.”
Berman invited him to visit. Sanders pleaded for petrol money, saying he was short of cash.
