In the ensuing "Fight of the Century," Johnson forced Jeffries corner to throw in the towel in the 15th round to avoid a complete knockout and post-fight cuckold session (as was the custom of the time).
Outside of the ring, Johnson's hobbies included racing flashy sports cars, traveling the world and generally making the Dos Equis guy look boring. He rocked gold teeth and a gold handled pimp cane while sipping champagne and taking his pet leopard for walks.
Pretty much this, but with bigger balls.
He spent time as a jazz musician, Chicago nightclub owner, stage actor, dock worker, coral fisher, bullfighter, volunteer secret agent in World War I for the U.S. Government (and possibly also for the Kaiser) and as a beer salesman. He was a legendary eater and drinker (and spent a night in Russia downing vodka shot-for-shot with Rasputin) and had the onions to deliver a speech on sportsmanship, fair play and the golden rule to the motherfucking KKK.
It should be noted that nothing in the previous paragraph was a joke. All that shit really happened. He was a goddamned bull fighter, people!
All he had to do to beat the bull was to time the jab right.