Think about Mike Tyson in the early summer of 1988. He was unstoppable. The greatest heavyweight ever? We wouldn't admit it, but we were all thinking it. The greatest fighter in the history of boxing? Come on! That's Sugar Ray Rob... well, then again, by the summer of '88, Tyson was only 22, and Bert Sugar already had him rated No. 27 all time pound-for-pound, with a bullet.

June 28, 1988, was the day after Tyson knocked out undefeated, linear heavyweight champ Michael Spinks in one round -- 91 seconds to be exact. Do you remember how young and invincible Tyson was?

Now just imagine someone saying on June 28, 1988, that they knew of a 20-year-old fighter -- just two years younger than Tyson -- who would make his pro debut later that year as a junior middleweight. That this fighter would win titles at middleweight, super middleweight and light heavyweight without ever being in danger of losing a fight. That this fighter would eventually move to heavyweight, beat a top five guy, and open as a 2-1 favorite to beat Tyson.

You would say that the fighter described does not exist. He couldn't. If somehow he did, he would be the greatest fighter who ever lived.

He might be.

The great thing about a Tyson-Roy Jones matchup is that it solves boxing's biggest problem. Tiger Woods is both golf's best participant and its biggest star. Happy times for golf fans. Michael Jordan was the best basketball player in the world, and he was also basketball's biggest draw. And the NBA took a huge hit every time Jordan "retired."

Boxing's biggest name is Mike Tyson. Its best participant is Roy Jones. Tyson-Jones gives us a matchup between boxing's biggest and boxing's best, and the problem of such a matchup being perceived as non-competitive is solved by the natural size disparity between the two. Though they are the same height, Tyson outweighs even the bulked-up version of Jones by 30 pounds. And unlike Ruiz, Tyson will charge, throwing knockout bombs the entire fight. One Tyson connect and the fight is over.

But it says here that Tyson will not connect. It will be Roy connecting again and again. And it will be Tyson who does not see the final bell.

Lennox Lewis should be the super heavyweight champion of the world, and should defend his title against his best available super heavyweight contender, Wladimir Klitchsko. The division is splintering naturally anyway, with the boxing public interested in finding out who is the best sub-230 pounder in the world. In other words, fans want to know who deserves to be recognized as heavyweight -- as opposed to super heavyweight -- champ.

Oh, yeah. The Ruiz fight. It was the same as every other fight Roy Jones has ever had in his entire professional and advanced amateur career, which is to say that it was not a contest. Not competitive. Roy Jones reduced John Ruiz, who if nothing else had survived three competitive fights with Evander Holyfield and one with Kirk Johnson, to a sparring partner. Ruiz is no world-beater, but he had Holyfield down and almost out, and he also dropped Johnson. Roy played with him, at one point hurting him badly with a right hand, at another hitting Ruiz with a no-look left jab.

Roy made a stand against Ruiz in the first round. Sure, Jones took a few shots that drove him back -- one left in particular seemed to momentarily stun him. But he answered Ruiz with his own power shots. It was a battle-losing, war-winning strategy. In perhaps dropping the round, Roy kept Ruiz honest. He let the bigger man know that there was a price to pay for coming forward, and that discouraged Ruiz' forward movement for the rest of the fight.

Don King called Roy Jones "Superman" during the promotion of the Ruiz fight. It's a great nickname for a fighter who doesn't have one. It is perfect for Jones. He is boxing's Superman -- faster than a speeding middleweight, more powerful than a heavyweight, able to leap weight divisions in a single bound. Superman won every round of the fight except maybe that first one, and then maybe the 10th, when he took a breather. He occasionally needs a breather. Superman is, after all, 34 years old.

Sugar Ray Leonard was a great fighter, the greatest of the post-prime Duran era of the 1980's. Superman is bigger than Leonard. He is faster than Leonard. Not faster in a pound-for-pound sense, but faster period. He hits harder than Leonard. He is just as smart as Leonard, just as good a boxer, and better defensively. He would have smoked Ray.

Marvin Hagler was always given trouble by mobile fighters. So how would he do against the fastest fighter of all time, a guy who can also punch? Superman would have outboxed Marvelous Marvin. Thomas Hearns had problems taking a punch -- Superman would have knocked "The Hitman" out. Any honest observer would say the same thing I am writing here. At least they'd say the same on a lie-detector test. Or they'd fail it.

Ray Robinson was too small. Rocky Marciano too slow. Robinson was in his prime as a 147-pound welterweight; Superman as a 168-pound super middleweight. Marciano would never have gotten a whiff.

And Joe Louis? Well, Billy Conn, who scored 14 knockouts in 75 fights, outboxed Joe Louis for most of 13 rounds, even badly hurting "The Brown Bomber" at the end of the 12th. Had Conn not gone for the knockout, conventional wisdom says he would have won the fight and the heavyweight title. One thing we know about Superman is that he never presses for a knockout. He exposes himself to the minimum risk possible. Or rather, he exposes himself to just as much danger as he must to win the round. He has won almost every round he has ever fought. And he might have won those rounds against Joe Louis, too.

The criticism of Superman has always been that he is not tough enough, that his safety-first style is an indication that he can't take punishment. But it is appearing more and more that Superman's style is not a result of cowardice, but intelligence. He stood his ground with a legit heavyweight. When Ruiz threw a hard shot, Superman answered with two of his own.

Bob Foster and Michael Spinks, with their size, skill and power, would have been tall orders for Superman, but then, with his boxing ability and speed -- and yes, power -- Superman would've been tough for them, too.

Al Cole, former belt holder at cruiserweight and contender at heavyweight, told me right before the main event Saturday night that Jones would win. Among other things, Cole said, Roy hit too hard for Ruiz. Cole has made a heavyweight career of absorbing incredible punishment; he is known for being durable. He told me that the hardest he has ever been hit was by Jones, in a sparring session. Cole said that he has no problem sparring with anyone on a moment's notice, but when it comes to Jones, he'd want a few days to get ready. Not just for the speed, but for the power.

Several years ago, a well-known boxing magazine put out a list of history's 100 greatest fighters pound-for-pound. Roy Jones was ranked No. 1. Seemed a bit premature at the time. I know several reputable matchmakers/historians who have thought for years that Roy Jones is the best they have ever seen, perhaps the best ever. Johnny Bos falls under that category. He says Jones is the best he's seen. Eric Bottjer is basically in that category, too. He says that Jones is the best fighter ever under 200 pounds.

Jack Dempsey, Gene Tunney and Archie Moore were all under 200 pounds. But Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield and Chris Byrd are not. And those are the opponents that make the most sense in Superman's immediate future. It's a future that could very well reshape the order of the boxing universe, illuminating Roy Jones' star to such an incandescence that even Sugar Ray Robinson's dims in comparison. Watch closely, because you might be looking at the greatest fighter who ever lived.

Max Kellerman is a studio analyst for ESPN2's Friday Night Fights and the host of the show Around The Horn.