It's almost inconceivable that any heavyweight boxer can still be improving as he nears his 35th birthday, yet all visible evidence indicates that Lennox Lewis is an exception, and the manner in which he crushed the challenge of Frans Botha suggests this gentleman warrior may reign supreme for years to come.

Only five minutes and 39 seconds were needed for Lewis to first find the measure of his man and then administer a classic four-punch attack which left Botha sprawled over the bottom rope, his title chance gone, probably for good. Rarely, if ever, can Lewis have fought with greater confidence and precision.

As Botha struggled up on legs which betrayed him for crucial seconds, referee Larry O'Connell looked long and hard into the 31-year-old South African's dazed eyes before compassionately ending a fight which would have been entering dangerous territory had it been allowed to continue.

The champion, who strode so confidently to the ring with the World Boxing Council and International Boxing Federation belts carried before him, has acquired the aura of a fighter who is flirting with achievement beyond the merely exceptional. Perhaps Botha proved to be inadequate, but it should be remembered that this was the man who had outboxed Mike Tyson before being chinned as his concentration slipped.

Lewis now fights with a certainty of purpose and controlled aggression where once he seemed hamstrung by natural caution. From the opening bell it was apparent Botha was heading for a hiding.

To have any chance the challenger had to find a route past the Lewis jab - not the pawing apology from earlier years but now a railway sleeper of a punch thrown with telling accuracy. Just once, as Lewis lost his balance and stumbled forward, a right hook whistled under his nose, but it was as close as Botha was to get to landing a worthwhile blow.

A left-right combination had already left its mark under Botha's left eye by the time Lewis feinted to throw a jab and delivered a beautifully-timed short right cross. Although Botha's legs buckled he survived, but as the bell sounded to end the opening round Lewis already knew the fight would be his.

The "White Buffalo" chose to get on his toes, clumsily dancing out of range in the second round as he tried to encourage Lewis to rush in looking for a quick end.

The final combination will live long in the memory. First a jab knocked the flagging challenger on to the back foot, a right cross homed in unerringly to the head, followed by a left uppercut and the final right hand launched with such power that Botha was almost knocked out of the ring as it thundered into its target once again.

"Marks out of 10?" somebody asked Lewis' trainer Emanuel Steward. "Eight plus," came the answer. Hard taskmaster, old Manny, but even he would have been forced to concur that the finish was approaching perfection.

David Tua, the squat New Zealander who stands 5 ft 11 in and weighs over 18 st, will get the next shot, but despite his power and well padded bulk he should not trouble Lewis.

Which brings us to Mike Tyson. He may have upset the sensibilities of most people who care about the long-term future of boxing, and he may be 10 years past his best, but in a world seduced by personality ahead of substance he still has currency and there are plenty who say the fight would not be a formality.

One is Botha's manager, Sterling McPherson, a former Don King employee, who has worked at close quarters with Tyson and believes that the faded former champion would win, saying: "It's hard to explain, but Tyson's a street animal and Lewis isn't. They sparred as kids and Tyson was boss. When he sees Tyson in the ring he may be afraid. It's a street thing."

Lewis would surely laugh in the face of such an assertion, and Botha favours a Lewis win if he can keep the smaller Tyson on the end of his jab. But the confrontation remains a fascinating possibility and, for Lewis, the last true superfight.