It's come to this, now we don't even have Lennox to kick around any more.

Not that attempting to kick Lennox Lewis -- who until Friday was the only man worthy of being called Heavyweight Champion of the World -- was ever a good idea.

But oh how the boxing world will miss the British Bomber, even if he seemed to want to be a prizefighter about as much as Dan Marino wanted to be a Dolphins' figurehead.

Now Lewis' place in the pantheon of all-time heavyweights is debatable. The knocks against him -- that he was a complacent champion prone to lapses of focus who fought not to lose -- are damning in a sport that likes its kings loud and brutal.

Some of the complaints are merited; for all his flair Muhammad Ali wouldn't have skipped training to have a split second cameo in Ocean's Eleven, like Lewis did before his loss to Hasim Rahman.

Some of them aren't.

You can't blame Lewis if his demeanor and style were somewhat boring.

They were effective for him. Just look at the numbers, a 14-1-2 record that earned him more than $100 million.

And he's not leaving the sport with a damaged brain, drug problem or court record.

In that spirit, one really has to ask why he would get back in the ring with Vitaly Klitschko, which, while not the popular choice among aficionados who base everything around one's heart, is in step with every shuffle Lewis ever made.

He fought on his own terms, and really, isn't that what everyone wants out of their careers?

Let him walk off and go do whatever relaxing thing he was daydreaming about during the last six rounds of his first fight with the champion Evander Holyfield.

Instead, let's focus on what's left in the heavyweight division, or to put it better, what's not left.

Because the cupboard, which has been pretty sparse for more than a decade, is now officially and totally empty.

What masquerades as boxing's marquee division is nothing but a freak show of talentless, oversized goons and Roy Jones Jr., who still holds the WBA belt, although he might never fight in the heavyweight class again, unless he finds a match to his liking.

Whereas in years past it could always be taken for granted that the heavyweight champion would qualify as one of the top five athletes on the planet.

None of the current top-ten contenders fit that description.

Instead, as columnist Ralph Wiley has suggested, the guy who would have been the champ in an earlier era is now probably playing middle linebacker on a football team or power forward on a basketball team.

So what do boxing fans have to look forward to?

The Klitschko brothers, whose stilted style makes one wonder if footage of Sugar Ray Robinson is available in the Ukraine? Chris Byrd, the IBF champ who follows proudly in the tradition of unworthy pretenders like John Ruiz?

The problem is the heavyweight division, the only one non-boxing fans pay any attention to, has been overrun with 6-foot-5 behemoths that substitute size for style.

The chances of an Allen Iverson sized champ, or even a Mike Tyson sized champ, seem remote and unlikely.

Rest assured, if there ever was a 6-foot-7 giant that brought the speed and skill of a young George Foreman, who was considered super sized when he defeated the rising star Joe Frazier, he would dominate the division for as long as he wanted.

But no one like that appears anywhere on the horizon.

Instead, we have gotten a forest full of giants who move with the grace of sequoias.

What needs to happen, as has been suggested before, is the splitting of the heavyweight division.

Let the big boys, those weighting above 250 pounds, have their own super-heavyweight category where boredom can reign king.

Give boxing fans a true heavyweight division, a place where athleticism and heart can stand out.

Just imagine, Roy Jones Jr., at 215 pounds against James Toney, at 220 pounds, for the Heavyweight Championship of the World.

It would be a fight worthy pomp we used to ascribe the sweet science.

Maybe, just maybe, boxing would again be considered a real sport instead of side-show carnival.

If Lennox Lewis' retirement were to necessitate such reform, that would be the greatest service he could have done his sport.