From my perspective, the context makes a knockout memorable far more than the dynamic at work in landing the blow.

Occasionally, though, these two elements converge into something extravagantly poignant.

Buster Douglas' knockout of Mike Tyson comes to mind; Tyson didn't just lose in that fight—he lost everything he represented in the sport.

They've been picking at every scab they could find on his legacy ever since. Big surprise. On their knees or at your throats, as the old World War II expression goes. 

While Nonito Donaire landed an incredible shot against Fernando Montiel and captured an electrifying moment while jumping into the pound-for-pound discussion, I haven't returned to it since.

Why not? I don't feel anything.  

And five years from now, it won't be mentioned. 

The downfall of Roy Jones Jr. will be mentioned, though.

Jones Jr.'s increasingly sad legacy fits in well with the shared fates of boxing's most esteemed pantheon of greats.

Jack Dempsey turned to wrestling to pay the bills. Joe Louis became the sacrificial lamb for Rocky Marciano long after he knew he was shot. Tyson claimed to have lost all interest in the sport after fighting Michael Spinks back in 1988. Tyson fought on for another 17 years in the most lucrative fights ever staged—and he still went bust. 

Jones Jr. always promised he'd avoid this fate. He'd have enough money and his health to leave the sport on his own terms.

So was it hubris or naivete?

Or both?

Jones Jr. always fought with a tremendous lack of graciousness for his opponents. As we learned more about him and his broken relationship with his father, the contempt Jones Jr. demonstrated in the ring seemed transplanted from the contempt he bore his father and the price on his emotional well-being in exchange for becoming a champion.

And don't kid yourself—nobody made the sport look easier than Roy Jones Jr.

Joe Louis didn't. Ali didn't. Floyd never has.

And it just might be a while until anyone else comes along. You expecting anyone to snatch Usain Bolt's records anytime soon?

But Jones Jr.'s legacy is already eroding fast. Every minute his career remains active, it tarnishes his greatness.

Some suggest Mayweather understands this equation all too well, and for that very reason, he avoids risking his legacy as much as possible. He's the first one to drop the names of nobodies who beat Pacquiao early on. 

So Jones Jr. fights on into that sad season where he's become an above-average fighter with a questionable chin. His drawing power at this point is so feeble that he's obliged to fly out to meet his foes on their turf, as he did against Denis Lebedev in Moscow on May 21.

For the trouble, Lebedev left him knocked out cold on the canvas with a family looking on in panic that he might not regain consciousness and be the same person they knew ever again.

This game sure knows to collect a check on that meal you ate.