So, Michael Grant revealed himself as just another mouse that roared. On Saturday night in Madison Square Garden, Grant shocked even his most fervent detractors by falling for one of the older tricks in boxing's textbook: Lennox Lewis dropped his hands, showed Grant his chin and invited him to step into his parlour.

It was all over with the first eager steps Grant took. There were 75 seconds of round one left when Grant went swimming on the canvas for the first time. He got up and wobbled around like a sailor on a lurching deck as Lewis clubbed him with a series of cruel, righthand blows.

The referee, Artur Mercante Jnr, stepped between the fighters and administered a standing count to the startled Grant.

The challenger seemed to be steady - until he got within range of Lewis again, whereupon he suffered more damage, this time from a left cross followed by a right. Grant promptly reintroduced himself to the canvas. Mercante gave him his third count. Two of the three judges scored the first round 10-6 in Lewis' favour.

Betting slips were ripped and tossed like confetti. Ya bum.

By the first bell the 17,249 patrons of the Garden were on their feet. The sheer surprise of Lewis' ferocity and the sinking knowledge that the evening represented fundamental bad value contributed to the air of fatalism which hung over round two.

Through the second round Grant did enough to convince the odd wishful thinker that he could make a fight of it. In other words, he kept his backside off the floor for more than two minutes.

Then, stooping forward with a childish absence of defence, he walked into an uppercut which turned out the lights, pulled the curtains and put the cat out.

He counted the referee's fingers for the fourth time. Counted them all. And that was that. Lewis had retained his IBF and WBC titles.

The final blow was perhaps a little dubious. Lewis appeared to hold Grant's head down with his left arm as he swung the right which ended the fight. Nobody was in the mood for argument, however. The combination of Lewis' aggression and Grant's appalling naivete had given Lewis the right to win most debates about method.

So brevity was the soul of wit. Lewis needed a fight like this to get out from under the reputation he has accumulated for being a boring fighter. Madison Square Garden wasn't full on Saturday night and HBO pay-per-view sales in the States were slow.

Lewis himself blames his two slow waltzes with Evander Holyfield for that tag, and points out over and over again that "styles make fights". Whatever, Saturday night will bolster the career highlights reel nicely.

As for Grant, he never looked lively or convincing. Even his progression from dressing-room to ring looked plodding and nervy as he moved with the leeriness of a man invited to bring his hangover onto a rollercoaster ride.

Afterwards he duly swore that he could be back, but he needs perhaps half-a-dozen good fights before he will be regarded as a contender again.

Even those who had touted Grant as the future of boxing wanted to know just how he had been allowed to trespass in a title fight.

Lewis had seen Grant on the canvas twice in the first round when Grant fought Andrew Golota of Poland. The quickest title fight dispatch of the last decade was Lewis' 17-second dismissal of Golota. Ergo?

"No," said Lewis, before contradicting himself: "He was the best that was out there. I was convinced his style would suit me, that he'd give me a chance to showcase what I could do. In that sense it was a good fight to take."

Grant had been on the floor twice in the first round against Golota also, but had clawed his way back. On Saturday night Lewis had never worried that Grant had the ability to resurrect himself.

"I wasn't concerned that he'd come back. I could feel his head in my hands. I realised he couldn't take too many shots. I said this was his most important fight and he was coming against the best guy on the planet, and if he came right after me it would be a short fight. "I think it was a macho thing, he's a macho guy, he wanted to prove himself.

"I felt very confident. It was important to me to get a quick knockout. They said I didn't have enough heart. They questioned my heart. I wanted to prove them wrong."

Grant's beginner's technique and his decision to whale away at Lewis from the first bell caused more than a little mirth as the slow motion replays revealed just what an awful performance he had submitted.

"I could see when he was winding up," said Lewis diplomatically. "It was only a matter of time. I was shocked. I was very surprised when he came at me. I realised that I had superior hand speed, and every time I hit him he went down, so I kept on hitting him. That wasn't very difficult at all."

Grant came out quickly in the first round and landed a couple of jabs, which persuaded him towards moments of critical in caution.

"I got caught with intentions of moving in when he gave me openings," the challenger admitted. "He prepared himself for me to take advantage. He knocked my equilibrium off. I don't think it was a mistake. Anyone could get caught with that shot.

"I couldn't believe I was knocked down in the second round. I came out with determination, I was mad after the first round. Lennox is a smart guy, he dropped his hands and said to me `C'mon, c'mon for my head now', and I went for it. I tried to take his head off. He took half a step back and did what he had to do.

"I forgot about what my corner had told me. I was selfish and I got caught. Lennox is champion for a reason."

It's an anaemic heavyweight division right now, but on Saturday Lewis earned his chops. Accept no courthouse-concocted substitutes: Lewis is champion, undisputably the best of the bunch.