Larry Holmes' final right hand landed squarely on Gerry Cooney's jaw and sent him teetering backward into the ropes, where he pitched over sideways like a drunk tripping over an empty bottle. Cooney instinctively wrapped his right arm around the top rope and tried to break his fall, but gravity prevailed and his left glove touched the canvas before he could pull himself up.

Referee Mills Lane moved in and began to count, but Cooney's trainer, Victor Valle, was already in the ring, white towel in hand, demanding that the fight be stopped. Lane immediately called a halt, and Valle wrapped his arms around Gerry's waist and steered him to his corner as gently as a parent guiding a sleepwalking child back to bed.

The poignant moment marked the end of Cooney's dream of winning the heavyweight championship. The clock had struck 12 and boxing's latest Prince Charming had turned into Humpty Dumpty. Cooney had five more fights stretched over the next seven years, including losses by knockout to Michael Spinks and George Foreman in the only bouts of significance.

Despite his potential and popularity, when all was said and done, Cooney's most enduring legacy turned out to be an inscrutable riddle: Was he one of the worst- or one of the best-managed heavyweights of all time?

Those who now yearn for a new heavyweight hero hope they won't be asking the same question about Deontay Wilder any time soon.

It's easy to understand why American boxing fans are currently enamored with the streamlined knockout machine from Tuscaloosa, Ala. He certainly looks the part: Wilder is 6-foot-7, weighs around 225 pounds and could easily be mistaken for one of those gifted young athletes who might have become boxers in the past but now choose to play in the NBA or NFL.

It is not, however, Wilder's size and shredded physique that have folks frothing with anticipation. It's his right hand, a terrifying punch that has been responsible for the majority of his 29 consecutive knockouts in as many professional fights. Moreover, Wilder's victims usually crash to the floor in a spectacular fashion reminiscent of prime-time Mike Tyson, creating the sort of over-the-top visual violence that has been lacking in the heavyweight division for far too long.

Of course, the same could have been said of Cooney before he had the misfortune of crossing gloves with Holmes. The way the 6-foot-6 Irish-American brutally dispatched Ken Norton, in his final bout before challenging Holmes, was truly chilling. But it was all a mirage, a concoction of half-truths and hype that fell apart when Cooney came face to face with reality the night he fought Holmes at Caesars Palace.

Deontay Wilder, right, has mowed down his competition, but when will we see him in with an opponent who can compete? ANDREW YATES/AFP/Getty Images

Cooney was not without talent. He was a decent boxer who had a lethal left hook. The problem was that, before tackling Holmes, he had never fought a top boxer who was still in his prime. The biggest names on his résumé -- Jimmy Young, Ron Lyle and Norton -- were all well past their best days when Cooney defeated them.

There was no way that easy wins over faded stars, journeymen and chronic losers could prepare Cooney for a fighter of Holmes' caliber. What made matters even worse was that he proved against Holmes that a big left hook wasn't his only asset. "Gentleman Gerry" was brave, determined and, for much of the fight, competitive. Who knows how much he could have accomplished with the proper apprenticeship?

Wilder is currently following an even cushier schedule than Cooney. None of the "Bronze Bomber's" carefully selected foes have made it past the fourth round, and 17 of them have exited in the first.

Although he won a bronze medal at the 2008 Olympics, Wilder had a relatively brief amateur career, so a certain amount of on-the-job training is understandable. But there has to be a limit to these record-padding bouts. Where's the progression? When is he going to step up to the sort of opponent capable of presenting him with at least a modicum of adversity?

Certainly not on Saturday night in Atlantic City, N.J., when he meets Nicolai Firtha on the Bernard Hopkins-Karo Murat undercard. Even Firtha (21-10-1, 8 KOs), the loser of three of his past five starts, realizes he is this weekend's sacrificial lamb.

"He has better skills than I do, and more power," Firtha told Boxing News. "This is a fight I'm supposed to lose. I'm at the end of my career and I get that he will try and get me out of there early."