Real or Fixed? Ali-Liston II still puzzles

Rematch in Lewiston, Me. remains one of boxing's all-time mysteries

The sport of boxing has given the world its share of surprises. Buster Douglas knocking out Mike Tyson. Mike Tyson taking a chomp out of each one of Evander Holyfield’s ears. George Foreman bouncing Joe Frazier off a Kingston, Jamaica canvas like a rubber ball. A loud-mouthed upstart from Louisville, Kentucky shocking big bad Sonny Liston in Miami Beach to win the heavyweight championship of the world.

In my view, none of those stunning moments equal the absolute, utter shock of the May 25, 1965 rematch between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston, Ali flattening Sonny Liston with a single punch — the “phantom punch” — some people called it, in the very first round.

Sports Illustrated’s Neil Leifer caught this dramatic moment perfectly. What a shot!

The film is no help. I’ve watched it in slow-motion more times than I can count and all I’m certain of is that a perfectly timed Ali counter right hand definitely landed on Liston’s jaw. If you watch it very very closely, you can see Liston’s left foot — a reflex action — come up off the floor when Ali’s punch lands.

So he certainly was hit. Was it hard enough to knock out a head-breaker like Liston? That’s the million-dollar question.

After Ali, (then Cassius Clay) won the title from Liston in February of 1964, Liston exercised his rematch clause and the two were supposed to fight in Boston in November.

But Ali suffered a hernia in training so the fight was postponed. And after Ali announced that he was changing his name and becoming what then called “a black Muslim,” America freaked out. Malcolm X had been assassinated four days before the first Ali-Liston fight and with a heated racial climate in Boston, there was genuine concern that Ali might be the next assassination target. Boston fight promoter Sam Silverman said not here.

The only place they could find to hold the fight was the Central Maine Youth Center — a high school hockey arena — in tiny Lewiston, Me. And, as you’ll note from New York Times columnist Red Smith’s account, there was real concern that someone might smuggle in a gun. Listen to the boos when Ali is introduced.

Oddly, Ali promised “a surprise” and also vowed that he would beat Liston without even using his best weapon, a stinging left jab. He came through on both counts.

When the bell rang, Ali came right across the ring and stung Liston with a good right hand, one of three he landed in the roughly two-minute bout. From there, he used his extraordinary speed to revolve around Liston and it was immediately clear that Sonny couldn’t catch him. Referee Jersey Joe Walcott, a former champ himself, had his own issues keeping up with the speed of the fight.

Roughly two minutes in, Liston lunged at Ali, trying to reach him and Ali leaned back and dropped a perfectly-timed right hand over Liston’s lunging left and it landed square on the chin and Liston toppled.

What was supposed to happen was Ali would go to a neutral corner and Walcott would pick up the count. Instead, Ali stood over the fallen Liston, allowing Sports Illustrated photographer Neil Leifer to snap the magnificent photo we’ve all seen and marveled at.

While Walcott attempted to corral Ali and get him to a neutral corner, he’d lost track of the count — the most important aspect of his job. Worse, the fight’s timekeeper didn’t start it either so Ring Magazine’s Editor Nat Fleischer had to holler into the ring that Liston was down long enough to be knocked out.

Liston had arisen by now and Ali started firing punches again and Walcott left the fighters! to go hear what Fleischer was trying to tell him. When he came back to the fighters, he waved his arms, signaling the fight was over.

If you look closely at Leifer’s photo, between the champ’s legs, behind a bald-headed photog, you can see former HBO boxing commentator Larry Merchant, mouth wide open. It was that shocking!

Judging from the two accounts from ringside — Sports Illustrated’s Tex Maule, who had time to speak to both camps, look at the film and assess the action and Red Smith, who was writing on deadline — nobody was really sure what happened.

Maule’s highly detailed story gave much more weight, it seems to me, to those early right hands by Ali, which he contended headed Liston towards dreamland. I didn’t quite see it that way.

Smith’s column hinted at a fix/dive “The Big Sleep” but to his credit, he said he found ringside sources who said it was “a perfect punch.” For a columnist to open the door to a contradictory opinion — on deadline — was impressive.

To me, Liston was definitely hit hard by the punch. Fighters often say the most effective punch is the one you don’t see coming. To some, it was as if Liston had run into a screen door, Ali’s timing was so precise.

Whatever the case, Sonny was done as a big-time fighter after this fight. Ali went on to defend his title several times before his refusal to enter the Army on religious grounds prompted boxing organizations to strip him of his title.

In June of 1971, a couple of months after he had lost a 15-round decision to Joe Frazier — his first loss — the Supreme Court voted unanimously to overturn Ali’s conviction. Though he could have sued the government for all that back pay, losing three years in his prime, Ali declined to do that.

“They did what they thought was right,” he said, “and so did I.”

Here’s the entire fight. Let me know what YOU think.

Here is Sports Illustrated’s Tex Maule’s story

ALI vs. LISTON II

By Tex Maule Sports Illustrated

LEWISTON, ME. -  Muhammad Ali, born Cassius Clay, retained the heavyweight championship of the world by knocking out Sonny Liston with a perfectly valid, stunning right-hand punch to the side of the head , and he won without benefit of a fix.

Although it is impossible ever to discount the possibility of a fix because of boxing's still-too-intimate connection with the underworld, there is no shred of evidence or plausibility to support the suggestion that this was anything but an honest fight, as was the previous Clay-Liston fight in Miami Beach . Today the big money is in television—not betting.

The knockout punch itself was thrown with the amazing speed that differentiates Clay from any other heavyweight. He leaned away from one of Liston 's ponderous, pawing left jabs, planted his left foot solidly and whipped his right hand over Liston 's left arm and into the side of Liston 's jaw. The blow had so much force it lifted Liston 's left foot, upon which most of his weight was resting, well off the canvas. It was also powerful enough to drop him instantly—first to his hands and knees and then over on his back. More than 17 seconds elapsed before Liston could flounder to his feet, still only partly conscious. Even some 30 seconds later, when Jersey Joe Walcott , the referee, finally stopped the fight after a wild flurry of inaccurate punches by the almost-hysterical Clay, Liston was staggering drunkenly and had to be led to his corner by Trainer Willie Reddish .

The knockout punch was only the third that the champion landed, but all of his blows were significant ones. He opened the fight by rushing across the ring and banging the surprised Liston with a hard right cross. Then, about 30 seconds before the end, he hit Liston with another strong right that may have started Sonny's downfall.

"That shot shivered Liston ," said Trainer Chicky Ferrara, who had been placed in Liston 's corner by Manager Angelo Dundee to guard against a recurrence of the eye burning that had left Clay semi-blind in the fifth round in Miami Beach . "He blinked his eyes three times, like he was trying to clear his head, and I looked at Willie Reddish . I could see Reddish looked sick because he knew his fighter was in trouble."

For the few qualified observers who had a clear view of the knockout punch, there was no doubt about its power. Immediately after it landed, Floyd Patterson , seated at ringside in the most advantageous position to see the blow, said, in answer to a direct question: "It was a perfect right hand." Jose Torres , the light heavyweight champion, agreed. "A very strong right hand," he said. Indeed, for all those who had a good view of the punch—and, unfortunately, there could not have been more than 1,200—there was never any doubt as to the stunning power of the blow. it was perfectly delivered against an opponent who was moving toward it, so that the effect was of a head-on collision.

The suddenness of Clay's blow plunged everybody—fighters, officials and spectators—into a morass of confusion. Responsibility for this can be laid to an inept timekeeper and a bewildered referee. But primarily it was the fault of Muhammad Ali , who went berserk when he saw Liston on the canvas and heard the chorus of "Fake! Fake!" coming from the fans who had missed the knockout punch.

Instead of retreating to a neutral corner and allowing Referee Joe Walcott to begin his count, the frantic champion stood over Liston shouting: "Get up and fight, sucker!" Walcott repeatedly pushed and shoved Clay away from the fallen challenger, only to have the champion charge back to ring center. Absorbed in this frustrating effort, Walcott never did start a count. Nor was he able to pick one up from the timekeeper, a diminutive man whose head was barely visible above the ring and whose voice was inaudible. Liston finally struggled to his feet and Walcott , thinking the fight was still on, wiped his gloves off.

At that moment Walcott heard shouts from Nat Fleischer , publisher of The Ring Magazine, who was sitting by the timekeeper. The referee turned his back on the fighters to listen to Fleischer . Liston , still dazed but courageous, put his hands up and started toward Clay, who then began his wild attack.

Liston was fighting from instinct, moving his head from side to side to avoid Clay's blows and trying to clinch. Whatever defects he had in this fight—and principal among them were age and its concomitant slowness—Liston was no quitter. No man ever struggled more grimly through the fog of unconsciousness to regain his feet than did Liston during the 17 seconds he was on the floor, and when Walcott at last stepped between the fighters to stop them Liston was still doing his best to fight back.

NY TIMES SPORTS COLUMNIST RED SMITH WROTE THIS ON DEADLINE

THE BIG SLEEP

LEWISTON, ME. – Lewiston’s finest stood at the doors of the hockey rink and frisked every lady’s handbag for firearms before the great rematch of Cassius Clay and Sonny Liston last night. They should have searched Liston for concealed sleeping powders.

For fifteen months after Liston quit in his corner and surrendered the heavyweight championship of the world to the bluegrass bard from Louisville, the boxing public awaited a return bout.

For fifteen minutes after post time for theater-television, a sweltering little knot  of customers in St. Francis Arena in the Central Maine Youth Center waited for Jersey Joe Walcott, the referee, to wave the gladiators into combat.

Old Jersey Joe waved and witnesses waited one minute more. Then they were on their feet yelling, “Fake-Fake-Fake” as a triumphant Clay leaned across the ropes screaming, “Where’s Floyd Patterson?” (Patterson was the former champion and now, the No. 1 challenger)

One wee righthand punch that Cassius threw from the hip had dropped his copiously sweating challenger for the quickest knockout ever recorded in a match for the heavyweight title, though Walcott didn’t know it at the time. Unable to hear the timekeeper’s count, the referee let Liston struggle to his feet and try to defend himself before the clocker told him Sonny had got up at the count of twelve.

Most of those who crowded down behind the press rows and bawled “fake” were young – too young, it seemed, to have been holding $25, $50 or $100 for admission. Possibly they found a way to get in for less (pronounced nothing) when it began to appear that only about half of the 5,400 seats would be sold…  Chances are few of them even saw the punch that did the job, for it was a tiny shot that couldn’t have traveled more than four inches. It didn’t look like a blow to paralyze a big, brutal head-breaker who had never been knocked out in twelve years as a professional bruiser. Yet half an hour afterward, there were people calling it a “perfect punch.”

Clay had bounced out of his corner at the opening bell to lead with a light, swinging right followed by a jab of no consequence. From then on he circled swiftly to his left as Liston chased him, hands down near his sides, his feet flashing across the canvas in showy double shuffles.

There was a look of menace in Liston’s red-rimmed eyes. He was moving about as fast as he can, advancing on an angle to intercept Clay in his circling retreat. Sonny landed a jab or two of no great consequence, brought a howl from the crowd with a right swing that didn’t land solidly and banged one heavy right into the ribs…

Now Sonny lunged forward to throw a left. Clay’s right was level with his hip and he seemed scarcely to move it. Yet down went Liston with a massive, astonishing crash. He lay flat on his back, twitched, quivered, rolled over and hauled himself up on one knee.

The crowd drowned out Jersey Joe’s count – if he had ever picked it up from the knockdown timekeeper. Sonny started to pull himself erect, pitched over and was flat again. Once more he forced himself up and this time he made it. It was a surprise when Walcott let Clay come on, for it seemed that 10 seconds had passed.

Clay came on with a rush, punching frantically as Liston backed into his corner. For a moment, Walcott left them to consult the timekeeper. Then he hustled back to declare a cease-fire…

Cassius paid no attention to the swelling jeers. He babbled into microphones, stayed to watch a taped rerun of his performance…

In spite of many rumors about Black Muslim plots against Clay’s life – threats which must have worried police chief Joe Farrand color-blind, for most of the handbags his minions snooped into were carried by white gals – nobody got shot. This may have been good.