On May 24, 1976, under the lights of Munich’s Olympic Hall, Richard Dunn walked into the ring not just as Britain’s heavyweight hope, but as the last man ever to feel the full, knockout force of Muhammad Ali. It wasn’t just another title defence—it was the final thunderclap in Ali’s stormy, storied knockout legacy.

Dunn’s path to the bout was anything but scripted. Originally overlooked in favour of a young German prospect, Dunn flipped the narrative by battering Bernd August to claim the European title and snatch the golden ticket to a dance with destiny. A modest Yorkshire scaffolder by day, Dunn wasn’t supposed to be there. But through sheer grit and a well-earned reputation as British and Commonwealth champion, he forced boxing’s most theatrical spotlight to turn his way.

The fight began with flickers of hope for the challenger. Southpaw aggression and raw determination pushed Ali to stay sharp early on. But the defending champ, ever the master tactician, quickly adjusted. Ali’s timing grew surgical. His movement danced between precision and playfulness. Knockdowns in the third, a trio in the fourth, and a final, looping right in the fifth—crafted from a technique taught by none other than Bruce Lee’s protégé—sealed the deal. It was Ali’s last knockout ever, delivered with a flourish only he could conjure.

Dunn hit the deck five times, but never lost the respect of the crowd—or the champ. Ali, recognizing both the mismatch and the heart in front of him, turned down the heat when he could have gone for carnage. He showboated, yes, but more to entertain and preserve than to humiliate.

Though defeated, Dunn emerged a national hero. From Bradford’s cobbled streets to a global stage, he stood up to the best and did so with pride, humility, and humour. That night didn’t define his losses—it defined his courage.

Ali would go on to defend his titles a few more times. But in terms of knockouts, Richard Dunn was the final exclamation point. And in that moment, he earned his place in heavyweight lore.