George Chuvalo gets a key to the city of Toronto. A shame the circus was in town at his acceptance

While the feeding frenzy over the Toronto Star's front page story about whether mayor Rob Ford is a drunken lout consumed the city hall media on Tuesday, a brief respite from the hectic, ongoing civic sideshow (Nathan Phillips Square really should have been covered by a giant circus tent by now) came in the form of one of the city's great sporting gentlemen, George Chuvalo.

Chuvalo, at 75 years old and still remarkably lucid for a man of that age who spent most of the first half of his life being punched in the head, stood in dignified fashion at the podium and accepted a key to the city, merely the latest in a long line of increasingly varied honours. It may not be like having his picture on an Our Lady Peace album cover, but it's still a pretty good thrill, one would imagine.

Too bad his speech at city hall - emotive and eloquent as always, even if he is prone to going on a little bit of a ramble - must have been received with a certain amount of impatience, with the large gathered throng waiting to talk to the mayor about the latest allegation of inappropriate behaviour. In Ford's seemingly daily denials, Chuvalo found some common ground between he and the mayor.

"We both can take it pretty good in the take a beating department," he told city hall reporters. "In another way, we keep punching."

Getting a key to the city may not be what it used to be. Many have made that point. However you may feel about Nickelback, Mickey Mouse or Jackie Chan getting a key, Chuvalo receiving one stands on a different level.

His remarkable career and incredible life story of tragedy and perseverance illustrate exactly the kind of citizen to whom Toronto should be gifting ceremonial keys.

That he received his on a day where a big, big gathering to see it was fuelled in a real sense by a desire to get the latest Ford exasperation on camera is a shame.

Chuvalo deserved this to be his day and his only. It should have been a moment where getting the key to a city was restored by his presence and accomplishments.

Instead, the champ had to endure queries about what he thought of the latest in Toronto's funhouse-mirrored city hall soap opera.

"They're a good family, they're a solid family, they're a caring family," said Chuvalo of the Fords, whom he's known for years.

That he would stand up for a friend even when it's supposed to be his own moment is not surprising from Chuvalo.

How far would he take his defence of Ford?

If I'm a Toronto Star reporter, bent on getting the goods, I'd hope that it fell well short of Chuvalo using his rusty, yet well remembered ring skills. The kind that had him trade 'em effectively with the best the sport ever offered, including Muhammad Ali. No worries there, of course. Chuvalo was as tough as they came in the ring and is as gentle as they come outside of it.

Speaking of which, having fought Ali twice, I'm sure Chuvalo was used to the kind of media carnival that descended upon him as he received his municipal honour.

He took it all in in the way he took in one of those Ali punches so many years ago. With skill and minimal damage.

Getting a key to the city of Toronto may not be what it used to be. Perhaps handing one over to someone like George Chuvalo will have some sort of restorative power to it.

Maybe Chuvalo's grace, dignity and sense of fair play will have somehow helped transform the big top in the Big Smoke into something a little more graceful, dignified and sensible.

But I doubt it.