Whether they like it or not, Nigel Benn and Chris Eubank will forever be linked to one another.

The two boxers have buried the hatchet now, but their rivalry was very much for real back in the 1990s.

Both had their roots in the Caribbean (Benn's family hailed from Barbados, while Eubank had lived in Jamaica), but they were raised in London. Both struggled to stay on the straight and narrow.

Benn was the former soldier who loved a scrap. Once the bell sounded, he became a man possessed, simply determined to win by any means without needing to take a backward step.

Crude at times in his approach, he was nicknamed The Dark Destroyer for a reason. Benn, with his all-action style, knockout power and willingness to go to war, was loved by many.

Eubank was a showman, too, just in a different way. He understood that it didn't really matter whether the crowd was cheering for or against you, so long as it was paying for the privilege to do it.

His pre-fight antics, the posing on the ring apron, the somersault over the top rope for an entrance—they were all part of the act. But he could fight, with his unorthodox style making him a slippery customer to deal with.

Benn and Eubank were opposite poles who were attracted together like a magnet. On November 18, 1990, they finally collided, and the outcome was spectacular.

The National Exhibition Centre in Birmingham, England, staged the bout. Benn arrived with the WBO middleweight title he had claimed from Doug DeWitt on American soil earlier in the same year.

The animosity between the champion and the challenger threatened to boil over long before the first bell.

Benn’s manager, Ambrose Mendy, revealed to author Ben Dirs—who wrote the book The Hate Game: Benn, Eubank and British Boxing’s Bitterest Rivalry—that his fighter had nearly got to his adversary at the press conference to announce the fight.

The public did not see that incident, but their appetite was whetted when the pair sat together in the same television studio to sign the fight contracts on ITV.

Presenter Nick Owen, who was hosting the show, said of the meeting, per an article Dirs wrote for ESPN.co.uk (WARNING: Language in the link story is NSFW):

We all know these guys put on an act to a certain extent but if there was ever a genuine antipathy between two fighters, that's as close as you'd get to it.

It was a fraught evening, there was a very real fear it might boil over. Chris wouldn't even face Nigel and without question that got under Nigel's skin.

The menace in Nigel Benn's eyes was incendiary. It was all calculated and it made for great television. Boxing is about entertainment and television is about entertainment and they both really delivered that day.

The signing session only raised the expectations of what was to come.

Benn was the favourite who would have been happy if the bout had taken place in a phone booth. He had lost just once in 28 fights, that solitary defeat coming when Michael Watson stopped him in 1989.

The unbeaten Eubank, meanwhile, knew this was a challenge he needed to meet head on—the ultimate test of his career so far. His record lacked a name, and none were bigger than Benn's at the time.

Sometimes events can be hyped up to such an extent that the actual occasion never has a hope of living up to such lofty expectations. In boxing, that can be particularly true—the buildup can be more dramatic than the fight itself, by which time tickets have been sold and television coverage sorted.

Yet by halfway through the first round, it became clear Benn and Eubank had the makings of something special.

The former was fuelled by a desire to dismantle his foe, and the latter had a burning ambition to walk out with the belt in his possession.

In reflecting back on the fight 20 years on, Kevin Mitchell of the Guardian wrote:

Benn and Eubank collided in the sort of fire-breathing animosity that has become the stuff of sporting legend.

There had not been a more anticipated fight in British boxing for a long time, because hardcore and casual observers alike sensed this was more than just the second defence of Benn's WBO title.

If they had held it in a field for free, it would have lost none of its lustre or authenticity. It was a fight that went beyond the hype.

Just prior to the opening bell, Benn and Eubank stood for a brief second across from each other in their opposite corners. They each held a pose, eyes fixed on the enemy, waiting for his moment to arrive.

It was the brief period of calm before the storm. Benn bounced forward as soon as he could, leaving the slightly more cautious Eubank to shuffle from side to side in between his bursts of activity.

Crucially, Eubank quickly proved he had a chin capable of absorbing shots. He caught an overhand right in Round 2 that sent him scurrying out of range, while in the fourth, an uppercut caught his jaw while open that it led to him biting through his tongue.

A ringside doctor could have judged the injury severe enough for the action to be called off. That never happened, as Eubank never revealed the extent of the wound to his corner.

Benn, however, could not hide the damage he had suffered from anyone. By the end of Round 5, his left eye was swollen shut.

Despite his impaired vision, the champion kept going. He appeared to have made a breakthrough when a right hand caught Eubank, who complained the fall was down to a slip, high on the head in Round 8.

The end came in the next round, by which time the tables had been sensationally turned.

In the closing seconds of Round 9, Eubank followed a left-right combination with a short, twisting left hook. Whether it was that one shot or more simply the straw that broke the camel's back, Benn was in a bad way.

He rolled back against the ropes, head flopping around as he was on the receiving end of a barrage.

Where Eubank had been cautious before due to the possibilities of counterpunches coming back his way, now he sensed there was nothing to be concerned about anymore.

With just four seconds to go in the round, referee Richard Steele stepped in to call a halt to proceedings. Benn briefly complained about the stoppage, then sunk his head onto the official’s shoulder as the tears began to seep out.

Eubank stood in the centre of the ring, gloves stuck together in front of his waist in a familiar Eubank pose, and he roared with delight.

Each had positive words to say about the other in the immediate aftermath. Eubank admitted he had never faced a man who hit so hard, while Benn acknowledged his adversary deserved to win.

Thankfully, the niceties didn’t last for too long.

Eubank’s antics continued to make Benn’s blood boil, although the former never felt the same way, telling Sky Sports’ Ringside show: "Our contest is not personal and that's why he lost, because he made it personal. He wasn't objective but I was, keeping my eye on the target, not on a person."

The two went their separate ways, though the magnetism always seemed likely to pull them back together again. A rematch had to happen.

It took them three years to get around to it—by which time they had moved up to super middleweight and held one world title apiece—but it happened. By then, though, their reputations were set in stone.

As single fighters, each excelled, but together, they were the dysfunctional duo that set British boxing alight. They were the odd couple that made sense. Happy anniversary, Chris and Nigel.