In the days since Jonah Lomu died of kidney disease, aged just 40, on November 18th, two tributes have been paid again and again to the former rugby union star. The first is that the gigantic New Zealand winger remained modest and approachable, both during and after a career in which he became rugby’s most recognisable figure—the superstar it needed as it turned professional after a century of amateurism. Even people who didn't know a flanker from a fullback had heard of his try-line rampages in the late 1990s. But the boy from a rough Auckland neighbourhood, who became the youngest ever All Black (aged 19 and 45 days) in 1994 and lit up the Rugby World Cup a year later, never let adulation go to his head. The second is that Mr Lomu changed the waythe game is played. Standing 1.98m (six feet five inches) tall and weighing 120kg (262lb), he would have been a colossus in almost any sport. But he had blistering pace, too, running the 100m in 10.8 seconds while still a schoolboy. That allowed him to play in the backs, who are generally more nimble than the trundling forwards, but also less hefty. In fact, an average outside back—centre, wing, or fullback—in a World Cup quarter-final squad in 1995 weighed just 91kg, and was 1.83m in height (see chart below). Mr Lomu was nearly three standard deviations taller and more than four standard deviations heavier.

Opponents didn't need statistics to tell them how hard he was to stop. Will Carling, England’s captain in 1995, jokingly described Mr Lomu as a “freak” after he ran in four tries against his team in the semi-final, a feat never equalled in a knock-out match at the tournament. The Kiwi giant was far more powerful than any other back in the game. He had the arm span to fend off any would-be tacklers and (though of Tongan descent) he was a fine practitioner of the “Maori sidestep”: the art of trampling directly over one’s opponent, with no attempt to feint or swerve. In that semi-final he executed it memorably, using Mike Catt as a doormat on the way to his first try, which fans recently voted the greatest in the tournament's history.

Mr Carling’s other post-match comment—“the sooner he goes away the better”—was meant as a compliment. Alas, Mr Lomu’s international career was indeed short, curtailed by his failing kidneys in 2002. He played in his last World Cup aged only 24, and would never lift the Webb Ellis trophy. Yet he still shares the record for the most World Cup tries, bagging 15 in all in the 1995 and 1999 competitions. Given his illness, it was remarkable that he kept going for so long. His kidney condition often debilitated him to the point where he struggled to complete basic fitness sessions.

In another sense, the threat that Mr Lomu posed didn’t go away. It multiplied: everyone wanted a Lomu of their own. Players had been getting gradually bigger since at least 1987, yet before he pulled on an All Black jersey for the first time, only a handful of backs had ever weighed more than 100kg. Just one, Va’aiga Tuigamala (who played for both Samoa and New Zealand), had topped 102kg. After 1995, that all changed (see chart above). Once the sport turned professional and the world had seen the devastation Mr Lomu could wreak, backs bulked up. Since 1994, 40 other backs have broken the 102kg threshold.

Among them are some of the most exciting players in rugby today: Australia’s Israel Folau, Wales’s George North, and the All Black trio of Ma'a Nonu, Sonny Bill Williams and Julian Savea. When Mr Savea swatted away three French defenders to score in this year’s World Cup, it was hard not to recall Mr Lomu in his pomp. His unstoppable stride and thudding hand-off will live long in the memory of anyone who saw them—and longer in that of anyone who tried to stop him.