WHEN journalist extraordinaire Ron Lewis passed away on Friday morning, at the age of just 54, the reaction from within the boxing industry was akin to what follows the death of a great fighter. One of the tragedies of sudden death is that the departed never fully understand the impact they made in life, and Lewis, while ego-free and far happier in the shadows than the limelight, would unquestionably have been proud to realise the high regard his memory will now forever command.
Lewis has gone too soon but he was nonetheless a veteran of his trade and consequently one of the very best at it. Throughout his 30-plus years in boxing he never once sought approval, he merely did his job in a manner that should be a lesson to all journalists; the words he used to craft myriad pages were only ever designed to draw attention to the boxers and the sport, never himself.
A man of great (and rare) integrity, he steadfastly remained loyal to his beliefs that were born of an acute sense of right and wrong. Lewis was a strict vegetarian long before vegetarianism or veganism were as widely embraced as they are today. Why? Very simply because he liked animals and didn’t want to eat them. Anyone who spent time with
