
Despite hammering Sonny Liston so emphatically the public were not convinced by Cassius Clay. Particularly after the young braggart then changed his name to Muhammad Ali to conform with his evolving religious beliefs.
The rematch with Liston was originally set for November 1964 but Ali had to undergo emergency surgery for a strangulated hernia, forcing a postponement three days before the opening bell was due to sound.
This sequel was never destined to run smoothly.
The bout was re-scheduled for Boston, but less than three weeks before fight night, the city’s district attorney told the fighters to look elsewhere because the promoters were not licensed in Massachusetts. A youth centre in the creaking industrial city of Lewiston, Maine, somehow got the gig. Extra police were called to oversee the May 25 1965 bout when rumours persisted that extreme supporters of Malcolm X, who had been assassinated three months previously, intended to kill Ali while he was in the ring.
As a consequence of the escalating chaos, just 2,434 attended (of which 1,510 were complimentary tickets) making it the smallest ever audience for a heavyweight title fight. Some were amused, others disgusted, when Canadian singer Robert Goulet forgot the words to the national anthem.
The challenger, hoping to become only the second man in history to regain the crown, pointed towards Ali beforehand and said, “This time I am going to knock you out.”
Oddsmakers again sided with the slugger, declaring him a 6-to-5 favourite to restore his pride.
The phantom punch
Debate raged about the punch that ended matters. Canadian heavyweight George Chuvalo, an absurdly durable contender whose chin could withstand a speeding train, was ringside and claimed Liston threw the fight.
“His eyes were darting from side-to-side,” he said. “When a fighter is hurt his eyes roll up.” However, Dr. Carroll L. Witten, former Kentucky State Boxing Commissioner, responded: “Chuvalo is wrong. The side-to-side movement of eyes is commonly associated with temporary unconsciousness and is one of the first things you look for. It is called nystagmus.”
World light-heavyweight champion Jose Torres also validated the finishing blow, calling it a “perfect punch” and Tex Maule of Sports Illustrated wrote, “The blow had so much force it lifted Liston’s left foot, upon which most of his weight was resting, well off the canvas.”
But only a few were convinced. Commentator Don Dunphy said: “If that was a punch, I’ll eat it,” he said. “Here was a guy who was in prison and the guards use to beat him over the head with clubs and couldn’t knock him down.”
In 1967, three years before his equally mysterious death, Liston allegedly told Sports Illustrated journalist Mark Kram that he took a dive over fears he might get shot by a bullet aimed for Ali.
The only thing that’s certain, all these years later, is that the conundrum of the phantom punch will never be solved.