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There was a time when knocking out Mike Tyson was boxing's equivalent to beating Ken Jennings at Final Jeopardy. It was the most Heruculean of labors and when it finally happened, it was an international event that conferred instant celebrity on the conqueror. After stunning Tyson in 1990, Buster Douglas need not have won another round in his career -- and in fact, he nearly didn't -- and his place on boxing's totem pole was secure.

That was then. A few months ago, a British heavyweight named Danny Williams dropped Tyson in what we can only hope is final fight of Iron Mike's sad and steady descent. Even in boxing circles, the Tyson toppling didn't generate much interest.

Williams did, however, make a sufficiently large name for himself that he got a date to fight Vitali Klitschko for the WBC heavyweight title. They square off Saturday in Las Vegas and while the bout may not be a box office bonanza, at least it can claim to have the highest combined fighter IQ in recent history. A polyglot with an advanced degree, Klitschko had to be talked out of postponing the fight because he was intent on returning to the Ukraine to help make some sense of last month's botched elections.

As for the 31-year-old Williams, he is the anti-Tyson, that rarest of fighter who doubles as an authentic gentleman. Williams is flanked by an entourage that includes his trainer and ... no one else.

"When I see someone with all sorts of people hanging around them," Williams tells The Blog, "I see someone who might be very insecure."

Even after making more than $1 million between the Tyson and Klitschko fights, Williams drives a shopworn Peugeot. He has two children and -- you talk about an old school square -- is married to their mother. He has been training and sparring near The Strip for weeks now and claims not to have dropped a solitary dime at a casino. With him, what goes on in Vegas, leaves Vegas.

"This place is," and here he spend a good few seconds searching for the right word, to describe America's Adult Disneyland, "very interesting. But the gambling? No, it doesn't interest me at all."

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Williams' backstory is as unlikely as his demeanor. He hated boxing as a kid, but his father pushed him into it and didn't permit him to quit. Eventually Williams improved his skill set and turned pro, but suffered debilitating panic attacks when he got in the ring.

His talent was generally unquestioned but his record was pocked by mysterious nerve-addled defeats, and he wasn't even seen as one of the strongest British  fighters -- at least until he put Tyson on his back.

Adding to the man's complexity, Williams is a devout Muslim. How does he reconcile his profession with his faith?

"I just draw a line," he says. "I am a warrior in the ring. Then, outside, I make sure I am giving a good image for the sake of Allah."

His image is quite strong right now in England. Beating Tyson -- even a pathetically passed his prime Tyson with a bum knee and a questionable will to fight -- counts for something in the U.K. Williams can scarcely get out of his car or take his kids out to eat without getting a chorus of "Hey, Champ!"

"Fame has really been a weird thing to experience," he says. "You're noticed, people want photos and autographs and you think 'Me?' But it's important to me not to come off as arrogant. I just want to be known as a good guy, so I shake hands or sign papers or take photos. It's rather nice, really. It's just been strange."

He'll get another helping of fame if he can devise a way to beat Klitschko. While Klitschko's head might be  6,000 miles from Vegas, his hulking 6-8 body will be in Williams' wheelhouse all night.

Unlike fighting the stocky Tyson, Williams will have a significant reach disadvantage and will need to rely on speed as much as power. He's been training like crazy -- he even found a sparring partner who mirrors Klitschko's dimensions -- and claims he's been ready for weeks.

"I'm going to come with a lot of intensity and anger," he says, referencing two traits that, over the course of a pleasant conversation, he gives no indication of having.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Jon Wertheim covers tennis for the magazine and is a regular contributor to SI.com.