Tyson Fury, the self-styled Gypsy King who was born a month prematurely - weighing 1lb - who used to spar with his brother using teatowels for gloves, became the heavyweight champion of the world on Saturday.
Just as well, too. Time is running out for Fury; for all of us, he reckons.
“We live in an evil world,’ he told the Daily Mail’s Oliver Holt, before his biggest night against Wladimir Klitschko in Dusseldorf’s ESPRIT arena.
“The devil is very strong at the minute, very strong, and I believe the end is near. The bible tells me the end is near. The world tells me the end is near. Just a short few years, I reckon, away from being finished.
“Abusing the planet, the wars in the Middle East, the famines, the earthquakes, the natural disasters, all these things are talked about 2000 years ago before they even happened. Prophesised. So now it’s all coming true.”
This was the interview which also saw Fury discuss peadophilia and abortion, and suggest Klitschko was a devil-worshipper.
For balance, it’s only fair to state that I think Fury is great entertainment. His press-conference antics of dressing as Batman before wrestling Robin in front of Klitschko, and his collection of belts, was bonkers yet refreshing. Sport is meant to be fun, and Fury serenading the Ukranian at the weigh-in was certainly that.
Refreshing is probably the opposite of what Fury’s views on homosexuals could be described as. Out-dated at best, despicable at worst. To marvel at Fury’s entertainment value is not to condone his beliefs and opinions, which compare homesexuality with peadophilia and suggest that, along with abortion, both should be outlawed.
“There are only three things that need to be accomplished before the devil comes home,” he told Holt.
“One of them is homosexuality being legal in countries, one of them is abortion and the other is paedophilia. Who would have thought in the 50s and 60s that those first two would be legalised?”
Luckily, the majority did. Fury is entitled to his beliefs and to follow his faith but should know when to draw the line. Unfortunately, as he readily admits, he doesn’t; two years ago, he was fined for calling David Price and Tony Bellew ‘gay lovers’.
“Anybody can be Mr Boring and sit in the corner and be nice and quiet,” he told the BBC last year.
“But that ain’t me. If I’m going somewhere, I’m going to be the life and soul of the place.
“If I’m drinking, I’m drinking until I can’t stand up any more. If I’m eating cake, I’m eating the whole cake. I don’t know what you’d call me - an idiot, maybe?”
His critics will find a few more words for him besides. But the most important in this context are ‘Heavyweight Champion of the World’.
A nomination for Sports Personality of the Year is interesting timing, too - one imagines the head of the BBC sweating a little if someone roundly accused of routine homophobia wins their top award. Of course, Fury denies the tag. He has gay friends, after all, apparently.
It was poetic timing that Fury conquered the world on the day Jamie Vardy, caught on camera racially abusing a Japanese man in a casino, broke the Premier League scoring record by netting in his 11th consecutive game. I was with a group of neutral when he scored the decisive 11th goal on Saturday, and all cheered like Vardy had scored for their own club.
Three of the friends were with this columnist in Las Vegas earlier this year when Floyd Mayweather, with a string of domestic abuse convictions and allegations, fought Manny Pacquiao.
We were gutted to miss out on tickets for the fight. Not one of us condemned one of those friends when he bought a glove signed by Mike Tyson - boxing legend, convicted rapist - for his wall.
Now Fury joins a long list of chequered champions in his sport.
He is a dangerous customer, both in and out of the ring. In it, at 6ft 9in with immense power, he’s capable of destruction.
And out of it, his comments are capable of much, much worse.