At 37, Joe Louis was a world away from being the 20-year-old version of himself who made $59 for his pro debut. During those 17 years he set records on an incredible title run. He won the throne before giving it up, only to seek it once more. And now he found himself stuck in the jaws of this young monster, Rocky Marciano.

One of the characteristics of boxing that makes it so difficult to navigate is how inconsistent it can be. Boxing guided Louis away from a future of working in Alabama cotton fields and made him the world’s foremost hero and only the second Black world heavyweight champion, and later the physical and financial damage caused by boxing combined to ruin his life.

Ezzard Charles was the one to end Louis’ 14-year unbeaten streak. The problem was the method, a decision that saw Louis connect with big punches in a few rounds, wasn’t authoritative. Louis continued fighting, half for financial reasons and half for the same foolish pride that kept heavyweight champions before and after him in the ring for far too long.

Louis didn’t blindly stumble into a showdown with Marciano, however, nor was he sacrificed. Between losing to Charles and facing Marciano, Louis scored a few savage and bloody knockouts between dishing out frightful beatings, and it convinced many seasoned fight writers that he would recapture the title, much less defeat Marciano.

A few months before Louis signed on, he reportedly exited a showing of Marciano's fight with Rex Layne and remarked, "He can’t fight." And who could blame him? Marciano was crude and didn’t exactly throw the textbook punches and combinations Louis was taught. When Louis was making his last few title defenses, Marciano was an amateur fighter dreaming of one day sharing a ring with the champ.

In fact, boxing wasn’t even on Marciano’s young mind the way it was for many heavyweight champions. Like fellow Massachusetts-born heavyweight champ John L. Sullivan, Marciano initially wanted to play baseball. Marciano got his first brush with athletic fame by playing high school football, and when he finally got to the ring, he threw punches more like a baseball or football player than a conventional fighter.

When the gloves were all laced up, Marciano’s lack of technique made no difference. He was 37-0 with 32 KOs, with many of those shocking and delighting New England crowds. And while Marciano usually dismissed any notion of being anything resembling a "Great White Hope," many in the public saw him that way.

Louis’ championship experience and impressive open workouts made him a slight favorite over Marciano at about 7-to-5, proving that public sentiment doesn’t always align with pundits and oddsmakers. The fight, Oct. 26, 1951, also wasn’t a one-sided slaughter as it’s now remembered.

At about 184 pounds, Marciano used his leverage to push back the 213-pound Louis from the opening bell. Marciano absorbed a few uppercuts and right hands between landing his own mauling shots, though it was in Round 2 that Louis seemed to realize the smaller man had some zing on his punches. Louis sat at the end of too many winging punches from the Brockton, Mass., slugger and had his midsection chopped up near the bell.

A strong jab from Louis forced Marciano to hesitate in Round 3. Marciano caught air with his big punches in the last portion of the round, which Louis appeared to generally control. Louis’ jab once more drove Marciano back in the fourth, but whereas the version of himself 10 years earlier might have been landing combinations, this one landed jabs and only occasionally power shots. Marciano let his hands go when Louis didn’t. Still, Louis had Marciano bleeding by the end of the round and likely won it.

For all his brutish simplicity, Marciano managed some intelligent things in the ring, such as timing Louis and punching with him. Louis and his jab damaged Marciano’s face and controlled his aggression in Round 5, though he slowed a bit toward the end as the smaller fighter ground him down. Round 6 was the same, with Louis visibly tiring and unable to match Marciano’s pace.

A stilted shuffle from Louis turned into stumbling as he couldn’t get his footing in Round 7. Marciano’s pressure and unpredictable assaults wore on Louis, who simply looked as though he wanted a quick break. Marciano wouldn’t give him one. An exhausted Louis tried to fight his way out of a grave situation in the eighth.

Once they’re able to speak openly about their careers, most fighters past their best say the same thing: they could see punches coming, but couldn’t dodge them. Or they could see openings for punches, but couldn’t react quickly enough to land them. Another thing about boxing is that almost nobody is safe. The great Joe Louis found his feet stuck in cement against a rabid young bruiser.

A left hook to the chin sat Louis down. As anyone would have expected of him, Louis got up and tried to face down the beast, or at least clinch to buy time. Marciano would have none of it. Marciano landed a series of left hands that froze Louis up in stages, little by little, just enough to keep him defenseless on the ropes for a dynamite right hand to the jaw that sent him through the ropes and onto the ring apron.

Louis easily could have been counted out, but he was quickly rushed by the doctor as a few ringside photographers briefly pushed him back toward the ring and the fight was stopped. Across the ring, Marciano celebrated before pacing back and forth until Louis recovered.

Among the crowd of 17,000 were friends of Louis, such as Josephine Baker and Sugar Ray Robinson, both of whom mourned the loss and waited outside his dressing room.

“The better man won,” Louis said almost coldly. “That’s all.”

Marciano’s remorse figures into one of sports’ greatest narratives: the old champ dispatched by the new champ, who didn’t really want to do it but had to. “I’m glad I won, but sorry I had to do it to him,” Marciano told reporters.

It was when Louis visited Marciano’s dressing room that the future champ cried and apologized, according to trainer Lou Duva. Louis remained gracious, but he never fought again.

After the bout, founder and editor of The Ring Nat Fleischer wrote, “Many famous fighters wound up their careers as did Louis, but their passing was just another exit of a pugilistic hero. But Louis was not an ordinary hero.”

Marciano overcame significant weight and size disadvantages while demonstrating tenacity and power in defeating one of boxing’s living legends. It was simply impossible to ignore Louis’ balding head and thicker midsection.

Ultimately Marciano was one of the few lucky ones who got out clean. He smashed Louis and moved on to clean out what he could of the division while battling managerial discontent and injuries before retiring as champion — undefeated.

Louis might not have come back to boxing if he hadn’t been double-crossed by the country he served in World War II. But he stood in Marciano’s way at the wrong time, and in boxing that can end great careers.