The Phantom Punch, 1965

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Sonny Liston had been heavyweight champion of the world since 1962. He was the toughest and most intimidating boxer of his day. They called him “the Big Bear”. He was ferocious, indestructible even. Liston had learned to box in the Missouri State Penitentiary, while serving a sentence for armed robbery. Coming out of prison, they said Sonny Liston was “the big Negro in every white man's hallway.” He was disparaged by African-American commentators as little more than an uncouth gorilla, yet Liston had made his name a legend in the boxing world. He had even knocked down Floyd Patterson, ex-heavyweight champion, twice in the first round – a chilling feat.

The Big Bear was set to fight Cassius Clay, the future Muhammad Ali, an agile pugilist who adored the spotlight. The two boxers were diametrically opposed; a battle between an oak and a rosebush, some called it. A fight that would draw intrigue, and huge crowds. The press were all over it, and the wagers poured in. Cassius Clay was a master of fanning the flames of debate, and kept himself center stage. He was no stranger to bragging and boasting, and did not hold back from provoking his opponent the night before the fight. This was a masterstroke of marketing that resulted in Sonny Liston being woken by journalists, most likely from the arms of a prostitute. They wanted to hear his reply to Cassius Clay, who had told the press: “After the fight, I'm gonna build myself a pretty home and use him as a bearskin rug. I'm gonna give him to the local zoo after I whup him!” This made Liston’s blood boil, and he set out to show the little upstart from Louisville what he was made of. The crowd was convinced that the Big Bear would win; the only thing Clay could beat him at was reading the dictionary, or so they said. The contract for the first fight had been negotiated. Sonny Liston’s was held by Frankie Carbo, a former mafia hitman and senior member of the Lucchese crime family.  The fight would take place in Miami Beach, Florida, on 25 February 1964. The Big Bear would take on the anti-segregation king.

During the first bout, Liston was brimming with taurine rage. He came after the knockout in the first round, and started strongly. He wanted to wipe the floor with Clay, seeking revenge for the humiliation he had suffered. He wanted to put the boy on the canvas and keep him from the spotlight. Let Clay play the smart aleck all he liked; soon the kid would be on his ass, and quickly forgotten. Sonny Liston was like a raging bull, but Clay dodged every one of his blows. He danced and skipped around the ring, light and agile on his toes. The harder Liston threw, the more Clay dodged. The more drained Liston grew, the wider Clay smiled. Cassius Clay’s plan was becoming clear: he wanted Liston to blow a fuse. That was his Achilles’ heel.  To bring the bear down, he had to be blinded with rage and tire himself out. At the end of each round, Clay turned to the reporters and yawned visibly. Sonny Liston stared daggers at him. The bout appeared to be too easy for Clay, who was showboating as Liston’s rage grew. His attacks grew more desperate; he looked heavy and clumsy against an increasingly disdainful opponent. But the fight turned into a debacle; Cassius Clay couldn’t see for two rounds, and Liston injured his shoulder. To cap things off, in the seventh round Sonny Liston refused to leave his corner. For the first time in his career, in front of a dumbfounded crowed, the Big Bear forfeited. Cassius Clay was declared the winner by technical knock-out.  The shame; the sorrow. The boxing world was left hungry; the much-anticipated fight had turned into a fiasco. The two boxing legends had failed to deliver.

The press had a field day deriding the fight. Ed Sullivan said, “I saw the Liston-Clay fight.  This was a stinker of all-time.  I swear The Beatles could beat the two of 'em!  No kidding!” The vainglorious Cassius Clay found himself unable to sleep at night. He could not abide the fiasco; he needed to beat Sonny Liston to show the world he was the best. A rematch was held in Lewiston, Maine, on 25 May 1965. This time, both men had reason to fight until the end to reclaim their honor. By this time Cassius Clay had become Muhammad Ali, and was determined to drape his new persona in glory.

That day, the mafia were quietly present. The Lucchese family had placed a large wager. Reporters pushed and shoved for space. Everyone wanted to be the first to see the victor. The bell rang out, and half the crowd were not even in their seats yet. The other half were on the edge of them, as the spotlights lit up the ring and TV sets all across the country were tuned to the fight. A few thousandths of a second were about to change the world of boxing forever. A few moments of nothingness; a movement that no-one saw, but one that ink would be spilled over for decades to come. Muhammad Ali’s phantom punch. Sonny Liston rushed his opponent straight away, determined to finish him quick. But Ali threw a quick right, so quick no-one saw it, so quick that you’d have to see Sonny Liston splayed out on the canvas to believe it, so quick that the TV cameras couldn’t catch it. Muhammad Ali had scored a stunning, sensational victory. The Big Bear was down and out in the first round.

Alan Alfredo Geday