The great, incomparable Sugar Ray Robinson – for many the BEST Sugar in the boxing world forever and ever, amen – has died at the age of 67. Yet today, the one man who came closest to earning, earning and fully honoring the Sugar moniker, Sugar Ray Leonard celebrates his 67th birthday. And unlike the greatest who ever did, Ray Leonard fully enjoyed his retirement years, his abilities and his all-round health as prosperous as his bank account, all those years after risking oh so much in the ring, as all fighters do.

It has been written how the man born Ray Charles Leonard was “born to succeed”. I believe the quote is either from Ring magazine or KO magazine (RIP). Either way, Leonard proved in the ring that success, massive, celebrated success, came naturally to him. Not that Leonard didn’t have to work tough for his victories in the ring. He certainly did, and in many of his fights, Sugar Ray (Mark II, if you will) had to dig deep to achieve victory.

But what was Leonard’s biggest fight? What’s your favorite Sugar Ray Leonard fight? God knows, there are plenty to choose from.

Maybe like Mike Tyson, the boxing historian, you choose the first epic battle that Sugar Ray had with the great Roberto Duran? Maybe you choose the amazing, always-argued victory of Leonard over the Marvelous Marvin Hagler? Maybe you love the finishing that Sugar Ray put into his cerebral chess match or the battle with Wilfred Benitez, who is approaching his peak?

Or maybe you will choose the 1981 Super Fight, i.e. the clash between Leonard and Hearns?

This fight, in which two top welterweight champions risked it all, putting it all on the line in a unification bout, is being hailed by some as THE BEST welterweight fight of them all. It took place, as you of course know, in September of 1981, and no one – like no one – knew who would win or how as Leonard and “The Hitman” Thomas Hearns engaged in the biggest fight of the year.

Could Hearns, with his odd mix of height, reach and punching power, beat Leonard the way he beat Pipino Cuevas? Or could Leonard, with his combination of superior boxing skills, accuracy and better experience in substantial fights, be the top Hearns?

The fight lived up to expectations and after a titanic battle, Leonard, with a black eye and a body close to exhaustion, showed his majesty by turning around a fight he had been losing on all cards. It was a stunning victory for Sugar Ray over an even more exhausted Hearns; a 14th-round stoppage proving, for now, that Leonard is the best welterweight in the world.

The two of course met again. Finally. After eight long years. This time fighting at super middleweight, the veterans Leonard and Hearns fought to a thrilling and controversial draw. They were now, in Leonard’s own words, “one and one.” There was never a third fight.

Today, Leonard and Hearns are great friends, and their bond is special and completely incomprehensible to us mere mortals, who have never taken a former rival to a shadowy place just to embrace at the end of the battle.

You can bet that today; Tommy Hearns is one of the first people to call Ray Leonard and wish him a elated birthday! But Hearns won’t be the only one wishing Sugar Ray many elated returns.

In 1998, Donald Trump was just Donald Trump, but he had plans for a fight that would change boxing. Well, that was his spiel at the time.

Trump actually had two fights in mind: a trilogy between Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield and Tyson’s fight with George Foreman.

Tyson and Holyfield met outside his office at some point in the early summer of 1998. It was a shock to both, but clearly a move by Trump. But his real goal was to get Foreman, who last fought in slow 1997, into the ring with Tyson.

Tyson was having some troubles at the time; he had a kicking match with Don King outside an L.A. hotel, a $100 million lawsuit was going around, and he had to try to get his boxing license back. I remember in his last fight he took a bump or two to Holyfield’s ear. Tyson was suspended, Trump had a plan.

At the July hearing in Fresh Jersey, Tyson was doing well until he cursed. It all ended after that outburst, Trump was furious, Foreman stayed retired, and we all missed out on arguably one of the greatest and most absurd fights in boxing history.

This Saturday []we’re going to get a fight that we’ve lost so many times. The Tyson-Foreman fight was extreme, but there are so many other fun, amusing, great fights that we’ve lost over the years.

I’m talking about fights that were, often official, and then something went wrong and they never happened. They were lost forever; many people thought the Fury-Usyk fight was lost for good.

Some fights were agreed in principle, a handshake was made and maybe a few quid was paid to make it happen. There were others which were rumours but good rumours and not the newfangled version where one champion calls the other ap**** or ab**** and immediately thinks he can sell any seat in the Garden. They often had difficulty selling a deckchair in their own garden.

What about Tim Witherspoon’s saga with the Klitschko brothers? It seemed to last a decade. “They wanted too much from me,” Tim always said. “It’s just business,” the brothers always said. I’d like to see the last of the best ‘Spoon with Klitschko.

Naseem Hamed’s title fight with Azumah Nelson is another long shot; Zoom Zoom was the WBC super featherweight champion when Hamed was the WBO featherweight champion. What about Hamed and Arturo Gatti? I love that. At the end of Hamed’s wildly spectacular win over Kevin Kelley in Fresh York in December 1997, I spoke to Pat Lynch, Gatti’s man, and he confirmed that it had been mentioned. Gatti was four pounds heavier and held the IBF super featherweight title. Lynch, too, downplayed that: “Gatti would have slaughtered him,” he said slow that night at the Garden.

Arturo Gatti (Ed Mulholland/USA Today Sports)

There was also a substantial British fight that took place one night at the Empire Pool in Wembley, which fell apart when one of the boxers died in the ring. In June 1980 Johnny Owen and Charlie Magri fought on the same bill at the Empire Pool; Owen was the British bantamweight champion and Magri had never lost or defended his British flyweight title. They sat and chatted in the dressing room. They were a few pounds apart and there was no super flyweight division. They had also met as schoolboys and Magri won.

That night in June, they agreed to a fight. First, Owen had to go to Los Angeles and fight Lupe Pintor for the bantamweight title in September. Johnny never came back.

One of my favorites is John L. Gardner vs. Muhammad Ali in Hawaii in 1981. Ali said it would happen, it did, and Mickey Duff got a huge cash payment after meeting a man named Harold Smith in Los Angeles. Duff talked to Substantial John, Substantial John agreed, and dates were discussed, when Smith’s empire fell apart – he was arrested. Duff kept the money, but told the authorities in America; Substantial John never got a dime and never fought Muhammad Ali. That’s a true story. We’ve lost it forever.

In the summer of 1990 Barry Hearn prepared Mike McCallum for an outdoor fight in Brighton with Chris Eubank. I think initially there was talk of it being at Ancient Trafford. It never happened but it was more than a rumour.

One or two disappeared because one of the men went to prison instead of training camp. Perhaps the most infamous example came in December 1982, when Davey Moore agreed to terms and signed a contract to defend his WBA welterweight title against Tony Ayala Jr. At the time, Ayala Jr. was undefeated in 22 fights, 19 of which were by knockout. No one doubted he would become a boxing star.

Tony Ayala Jr

He was guaranteed $700,000 for Moore and Garden for a proposed fight in May 1983 that was supposed to sell out. They even held a press conference, and then, two weeks later, Ayala Jr. lost his mind. He sexually assaulted a woman and was arrested while shadowboxing half-naked in the street at 3 a.m. The fight was canceled for good; he served every day of a minimum sentence of 15 years. Instead, Moore fought Roberto Duran in June and lost. Ayala Jr. never became the fifth king.

The fights we lost along the way have a bit of everything. It’s just a shame so many got away. Still, it’s Saturday in Riyadh and it looked like we lost.

Born in Merida, Venezuela in December 1981, Edwin Valero became a favorite among fight fans thanks to his simply incredible series of knockouts. Valero is still talked about, remembered, and fans still discuss what could have been.

Valero began boxing at the age of 12, a fatherless street kid who got a job at a local gym. Reports vary, but some say Valero compiled an amateur record of 86-6(45). Seemingly born to fight, Valero was involved in street fights, and his sheer rage even then drove him to violence. In July 2002, Valero turned pro and defeated Eduardo Hernandez, stopping him in two minutes of the first round. Valero, a deadly and powerful southpaw, had an incredible 18 first-round KO victories.

It was only Valero’s 19th professional fight that extended beyond the first round; it was only in the second round. Valero could punch, everyone knew that. But could he become a world champion? The answer came in Valero’s 20th fight, when he faced and defeated Vicente Mosquera for the WBA super featherweight title. Valero needed ten rounds, easily his longest fight. But his KO rate remained at 100 percent, and Valero was soon being talked about as a potential future opponent for Manny Pacquiao. Instead, Valero had just seven more fights to go.

Valero was badly injured in a motorcycle accident in 2001, more than a year before his professional debut. Valero suffered a brain hemorrhage and a fractured skull. It took some time, months in fact, before Valero was cleared to turn pro. Valero was unable to fight in America (apart from a few fights) due to an MRI done in January 2004, which showed a compact blood clot in his brain. Years later, when the cruelty Valero was capable of became widely known, the question arose whether Valero had suffered irreversible brain damage as a result of the accident and whether this affected his mood and temperament?

We will never know.

But Valero, after holding onto his 130-pound belt four times, then moving up to win the WBC lightweight title, holding it twice—all by KO—attacked and killed his wife. Valero, it turned out, scared his wife, stabbed her three times, killing her. Valero then hanged himself in his cell. That happened in April 2010, less than eight years after “El Inca” first boxed as a pro.

Most people would say to hell with Valero, let him rot in hell. And who could argue? But Valero, for all his faults, for all his simply shameful and unforgivable flaws as a human being, was for a compact time a force of nature in the boxing ring. Some say that Valero, who never went the distance in a single fight, was unbeatable, his raw, ferocious power ensuring victory no matter who he fought.

We will never know.

Valero is remembered as a ghastly man, a disturbed killer who deserves no sympathy. However, Valero is also remembered as one of the most invigorating fighters of the first decade of the 21st century. And there is a substantial “what if?” next to his name. 27-0(27) and a two-time world champion, the memory of Valero and his exploits still haunts many.