An recent interview with george foreman

SEAN KEELER, desmoinesregister.com

May 1, 2006

George Foreman has gotten a lot of mileage out of his gut over the years. But he trusts it. Lately it's been telling him he should be buried in Iowa someday.

"That's my final resting place," the former two-time heavyweight boxing champion says by phone from his ranch in Texas. The 57-year-old fighter-turned-entrepreneur is one of a handful of speakers scheduled to appear at Wells Fargo Arena today as part of a "Get Motivated" business seminar.

"I love it. It stole my heart. I'm always reading something, asking questions about Iowa. It's just one of those places that's dear to my heart."

Foreman hands the phone to daughter Natalie.

"Natalie," he says as the receiver changes hands, "tell him."

"Iowa," she says. You can almost hear the shrug.

"Which doesn't make sense to any of us. He never says where, he just says 'Iowa.' "

A rustle. George takes the phone back.

"Sometimes, you meet a girl and you say, 'Why do I love her?' And you said, 'It's something within me,' " Foreman says. "I don't know. I don't know. That's the way it is with Iowa and me."

What can you say? Instinct hasn't steered the man wrong yet. In 1986, Foreman had the feeling, deep inside, that he could somehow reclaim the heavyweight crown.

Eight years later, at age 45, he knocked out Michael Moorer to become the oldest champ in history.

There was the feeling about that weird cooking appliance that a friend had sent over for him to try, the one that looked like a waffle iron tilted diagonally.

One day his wife pulled it out and made him a burger on it. It tasted just fine. He agreed to shoot an infomercial endorsing it.

The rest is Lean, Mean, Grilling history.

"People who are in business who are starting up, they look at General Motors and the big companies and they say, 'There's no chance for me,' " Foreman says. "When they tell me that, I slip out one of those grills. You can still become a big success if you want to."

His namesake grills, produced by Salton Inc., have sold more than 80 million units worldwide. For consumers under 40, it's become as requisite to the kitchen as a toaster or blender. You can find one in just about any dormitory or fraternity in the country - and, apparently, the home of "Tonight Show" host Jay Leno.

"He knows everything about that grill," Jolly George chuckles. "That's the most interesting thing about him. When does he have time to cook?"

You could ask the same question of Foreman. His new company, George Foreman Enterprises, recently went public. He's dabbled in sitcoms, reality television (NBC's "The Contender") and harness racing. He wrote a children's book last year. He's an ordained minister who preaches regularly at the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ in Houston, and a cash cow on the corporate speaker circuit.

Foreman reportedly pulled in a salary of $27.5 million in 2002. The most he ever made from a fight was a purse of $12.5 million in 1991 after unsuccessfully challenging Evander Holyfield for the heavyweight title.

A few weeks ago, one of Foreman's old friends and former opponents, the legendary Muhammad Ali, agreed to sell off the rights for his name and likeness to a licensing company for $50 million.

"We did that already," Foreman says. "I think a lot of celebrities should go out and (use their names as a) brand. Those names sell. Arnold Palmer. Jack Nicklaus. Muhammad Ali. Those are names that will go on for you."

Especially when your knees won't. A former HBO analyst, Foreman still follows the boxing scene closely. While the heavyweight class is believed by some to be at its weakest ebb in decades, he has no intentions of returning to the ring to attempt a three-peat.

For one, he doesn't need the money. For another, he doesn't need to get into any more trouble with his wife.

"You want to leave feeling like you can still go for it, not, 'Oh, he's dead,' " Foreman says. "No, I'll never go back to boxing."

For a man who used to hawk cheeseburgers, Foreman is meticulous about his diet. He says he's at 255 pounds now, down 5 or so from his most recent title weight. You'll more likely find asparagus and broccoli on his George Foreman grill than steaks and hot dogs.

"You have to take care of yourself," he says. "The grill is my salvation, I'm telling you."

And Foreman laughs. If you're going to put that kind of trust in your gut, you might as well treat it right