The Greatest Page 4

  In June of 1963, Medgar Evers, a black man leading the fight for voting rights for African Americans in Mississippi, was killed in front of his home.

  The March on Washington, D.C., held on August 28, 1963, was described by The New York Times as having a “picnic quality.” Militant black voices, such as the author James Baldwin, were not allowed to speak at the demonstration. The Nation of Islam described the march as a failure. But from that gathering, the country first heard the famous “I Have a Dream” speech of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

  On November 22, 1963, President Kennedy, who had supported the black drive for civil rights, was assassinated.

  During this chaotic period, America somehow expected Cassius Clay to be nonpolitical. He was an athlete, a boxer, an amusing man-child who should go on entertaining the public with his antics. It was not to be.

  Angelo Dundee, Cassius Clay’s trainer, noticed the new people Clay was attracting to his camp. They were neatly dressed black men, with close shaven heads, who were always polite but firm. Clay had attended several meetings of the Nation of Islam and had spoken personally with Elijah Muhammad, who ran the organization from his Chicago offices. Sportswriters who questioned Clay on the civil rights movement noted that he was against integration.

  “I believe it’s human nature to be with your own kind,” Clay announced in an interview with Inside Boxing.

  Sportswriters who liked Clay the brash clown, did not view his militant leanings favorably, and began to write negative things about him. Barry Stainback, of Sport magazine, said that the fighters he had beaten were all “setups,” men selected as easy wins for Clay. This was in the summer of 1963, right after the March on Washington and after Clay had beaten Henry Cooper in London.

  While more and more sportswriters were beginning to distance themselves from Clay because of his political views, they all recognized that he had become an attraction in the heavyweight division. Sonny Liston’s handlers knew this as well, and arrangements were made for Clay to fight Liston. The fight was to be held in February 1964, in Miami Beach, Florida.

  Mainstream sportswriters wanted Cassius Clay to remain safely tucked away in a niche they found comfortable. They wanted to write about the fight game, about how much money each boxer received for a fight, about knockout punches. They didn’t like Clay’s bragging, his naming the round in which he would finish an opponent. They wanted someone reasonably quiet who would, from time to time, say something worth printing.

  What they got was Muhammad Ali.

  As the fight neared, Miami Beach became a publicity circus with reporters from around the world eager to cover the event. Liston — big, mean, and talented — was the overwhelming favorite, but Clay was popular and attractive. He was signed for the fight precisely because of his popularity and for the new audience he was attracting. There would be little money in a fight between the unpopular Liston and an unknown.

  Prior image: Ali, posed for reporters with his trainers, Angelo Dundee (l.) and Drew Brown, before the fight for the championship against Sonny Liston in Miami Beach, 1964.

  On paper it was an easy match for Liston. The thirty-one-year-old fighter had lost only once in the ten years he had been fighting professionally. He had knocked out twenty-five of his opponents and had utterly destroyed Floyd Patterson, the previous champion. Liston was a huge man with enormous strength in his massive arms. His style was based on intimidation. His deadly stare was well known and had defeated many of his opponents even before the fights had begun. Cassius Clay, nearly ten years younger than Liston, was affected by the intimidating tactics but somehow managed to bring his own style into play. Before the fight he taunted Liston, calling him “the bear,” and verbally defused the famous stare as being “just plain ugly.” Liston had much more professional fight experience, but Clay turned this around by saying that Sonny was too old to win.

  Clay attracted a lot of young black people who were becoming disillusioned with the civil rights movement. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s, philosophy of nonviolence for blacks seemed futile against people bent on committing violent acts against black churches and black children. Also, African Americans often took Clay’s actions as an expression of race pride. His references to himself as “beautiful” inspired young African Americans and became the impetus of the “Black is Beautiful” movement.

  “If he stands and fights, I’ll kill him. If he runs, I’ll catch him and kill him,” Liston answered when asked how the fight would go.

  It was in the ring where the two fighters’ opposing styles were most obvious. Clay’s speed, not Liston’s strength, dominated the fight. Liston had good foot speed, but Clay was faster. When, in the fourth and fifth rounds, Clay had been temporarily blinded, Liston caught him on the ropes but still couldn’t hurt the younger man. It was a frustrating experience for Liston. When Clay regained his vision in the sixth and began to punish Liston, the fight was over. An exhausted and humiliated Liston failed to come out for the seventh round.

  There was pandemonium in the Miami Beach arena after the fight. Reporters rushed to the phones to record the stunning upset. Clay was screaming that he was The Greatest, and everyone was trying to figure out what had happened.

  Liston claimed that he had hurt his left shoulder during the fight and couldn’t defend himself. Some people were calling for an investigation of the substance that had blinded Clay. (It was probably the astringent used to stop the bleeding from Liston’s face that accidentally found its way onto Liston’s gloves and into Clay’s eyes.) Some sportswriters, still not believing the loudmouthed youth could beat Liston, wondered if the Mob had influenced Liston to quit. The truth of the matter was that they had just seen a talented fighter, Cassius Clay, rise to the occasion and become a great fighter.

  It was after the fight in Miami Beach that Clay, now world champion, announced that he had become a Muslim and changed his name to Muhammad Ali.

  Changing one’s name in sports was common. William Harrison Dempsey changed his name to Jack Dempsey. Arnold Raymond Cream changed his name to Jersey Joe Walcott. Walker Smith, Jr., became Sugar Ray Robinson. Guiglermo Papaleo became Willie Pep. Joseph Louis Barrow changed his name to Joe Louis. Thomas Rocco Barbella became Rocky Graziano.

  Although the sports media had accepted these name changes without hesitation, they refused to accept Muhammad Ali. For years after he changed his name, sportswriters continued to refer to Ali as Clay. They made a point of showing their disapproval of Ali for changing his name for religious reasons and for joining the Nation of Islam.

  Ali understood what was going to happen to him when he announced that he was becoming a Muslim and changing his name. He guessed that if he had made the announcement prior to the Liston fight, the match would never have been made. He also knew that he would lose much of the popularity he had enjoyed as a nominal Christian. He had been faced with a clear choice. He could have kept his given name and continued his religious conversion in private, out of the public eye, and enjoyed years of uninterrupted fame. He chose instead to offer up the fame he achieved for what he believed in. It took a great deal of courage, but it was courage that Ali would show time and time again.

  Ali’s conversion was not taken as a sign that he changed his mind about his religious beliefs. It was felt by many whites and blacks that he had been duped into becoming a Muslim by the Nation of Islam and that the organization would use Ali as a symbol of racial hatred.

  * * *

  The racial undertones that have always been present in America have often affected the fight game. The black boxer Jack Johnson began fighting professionally in 1897 at age nineteen, when white fighters would not fight blacks. He fought for years without having any hope of getting a championship fight. Then, when Tommy Burns was champion, Johnson followed him from country to country, taunting and demanding a match. Finally, a promoter made the match in Sydney, Australia. Johnson beat Burns easily and became the first black heavyweight champion. A search was made for a white person to b
eat Johnson. James J. Jeffries, who had retired from boxing, was asked to return to the ring as “the Great White Hope” and return the championship to white America.

  On July 4, 1910, an out-of-shape Jeffries returned only to lose the match against Johnson. Eventually Johnson was arrested on a trumped-up morals charge and had to leave the country. When he returned he was put into jail for eight months in Kansas. Many believed that his only crime was embarrassing white America.

  But if Ali had embarrassed some Americans by joining an organization that preached racial separation, he was still very popular with young people, black and white. Young men identified with the handsome, charismatic youth in much the same way they did with Malcolm X. Malcolm was that strong voice so long missing among young men in the black community. While Jack Johnson, in his day, had been popular, he had also shown little interest in the conditions of his fellow African Americans. Ali, on the other hand, began his work as a Muslim minister, speaking at various mosques throughout the country and taking a special interest in the welfare of black children. And there was always that marvelous gift for using the media to make himself visible to the world, a vitally important concept to people who so often felt invisible.

  A rematch with Liston was scheduled. Somehow, in his defeat, Liston, the bad guy, the brute, was now the good guy. The fight was scheduled for November 16, 1964, but three days before the fight Ali had severe pains in his stomach. He began to vomit and asked to be taken to the hospital. When he arrived, the doctors examined him and found an inguinal hernia. There was a tear in the muscles lining his stomach, and the intestines had broken through. The pain was intense, and Ali was rushed into surgery.

  “If he’d stopped all that hollering, he wouldn’t have a hernia,” Liston said. The fight was rescheduled for May 25, 1965.

  Meanwhile, the Nation of Islam was in turmoil. Malcolm X had broken with the organization in 1964 and had been feuding with its leader, Elijah Muhammad. Then, on a cold February day in 1965, Malcolm X was assassinated in New York City. There was talk within the black community of a coming battle between various factions of the Muslim movement. Would Ali be caught up in the hate and violence? The promoters of the rematch with Liston had sought a large market, but state after state turned the fight down because of Ali’s ties to the Nation of Islam. The fight was finally scheduled to take place at a small youth center in Lewiston, Maine.

  Security was tight as fight time approached. People still had doubts about Ali’s skills and Liston was the betting favorite. Many people were hoping that Ali would lose because of who he was, rather than what his skills were.

  President Lyndon B. Johnson had signed the Civil Rights Act into law on July 2, 1964. The law offered more opportunities for blacks to enter the mainstream of American life, which most African Americans wanted, while the Nation of Islam was suggesting that African Americans build their own communities and businesses. But most African Americans were Christian, as was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the most important leader in the civil rights movement. There were, in older black Christian Americans, mixed feelings about the young Muslim Ali.

  * * *

  Fight night. Ali was in terrific shape. While Liston looked despondent and dour, Ali, with his thirty-four-inch waistline and powerful arms, seemed to have taken on the role of intimidator.

  The fight started with Ali using the same tactics that had clinched the championship for him in Miami Beach. He moved, he jabbed, he moved more. Liston jabbed, threw some hard punches that didn’t land on the elusive target, and tried to maneuver Ali into the ropes. Suddenly Ali stepped to the right and threw a quick, downward punch. Liston went down.

  “Get up and fight, sucker!” Ali yelled as he stood over the fallen Liston.

  Liston didn’t get up. Jersey Joe Walcott, the ex-fighter who was refereeing the match, tried to push Ali away to a neutral corner. Finally, Ali moved away and Liston struggled to his feet. Seventeen seconds had passed. Ten seconds is all a fighter is allowed. The fight was over.

  Prior image: The rematch: Heavyweight champ Ali knocked Sonny Liston out in one minute in the first round.

  “The punch jarred him,” Ali said afterward. “It was a good punch, but I don’t think I hit him so hard he couldn’t have gotten up.”

  Muhammad Ali had come to the fight in the best shape of his life. He was twenty-three years old, at the height of his physical powers. He had fought twenty professional fights and close to one hundred amateur fights. He had a style that he could impose on Liston, and the physical and mental skills to do it. Liston had been intimidated not by Ali’s physical presence, but by the prospect of facing a situation in which he could not win.

  Ali would have one more fight in 1965: In November he would go up against Floyd Patterson, the former world heavyweight champion.

  In an October 1965 article in Sports Illustrated, Patterson commented, “I have nothing but contempt for the Black Muslims and that for which they stand. The image of a Black Muslim as the world heavyweight champion disgraces the sport and the nation. Cassius Clay must be beaten and the Black Muslims’ scourge removed from boxing.”

  Patterson’s remarks hurt and angered Ali. He saw himself as being for the black man one-hundred percent and didn’t like having his racial integrity questioned. Ali claimed that he had no racial animosity against anyone, no matter their race or religion. His trainer, Angelo Dundee, was white. Ali had white friends among the sportswriters. But that wasn’t good enough for Patterson, who asserted that he would regain the championship for Christianity.

  Ali took his revenge on November 22, 1965. He pounded Patterson without mercy, backing off each time Patterson looked like he could be knocked out. Finally, the referee ended the fight in the twelfth round. Ali had won in a technical knockout. It was not a popular victory — a lot of sportswriters wanted to see Patterson win. Moreover, they wanted to see Ali return to being Cassius Clay. But what they saw was the best fighter in the world.

  The 1960s were a turbulent decade, the decade in which the public learned to say no to the government’s war in Vietnam and to injustice in America, and yes to peace, love, and rock ’n’ roll. What’s more, most of the real action centered around young people. Young people called “flower” children in the streets of San Francisco rocked to the raucous sounds of Janis Joplin in the Fillmore West, and marched the streets in protest against the Vietnam War. Americans who had reached their eighteenth birthday had to register for the draft and were issued draft cards. Antiwar protestors burned their draft cards to show their disapproval of the war in Vietnam. Black people wore huge Afros, and hippies wore flowers. In the South, African-American children marched in the streets along with their elders, and college students sat at the lunch counters waiting to break the barriers of segregation.

  For most Americans each action was not only a statement in itself, but also a symbol. Some of the symbols became so popular that they were instantly recognized. For some people, a brightly colored Volkswagen “Bug” decorated with peace signs and flowers brought smiles of recognition: Here was a peace-loving, groovy person in an in-your-face car who was probably into hip music and love between all people.

  But the peace movement had its detractors. To those Americans not used to questioning what their government did, protesting the war was close to treason. To others, the idea that blacks were no longer willing to accept second-class citizenship was a symbol of social decline.

  One of the major symbols of the sixties was the name changes among members of the Nation of Islam. Malcolm X had been born Malcolm Little, in Omaha, Nebraska. The name Malcolm had been given to him by his parents, but the name Little was, Malcolm said, a hand-me-down from the days of slavery. Most members of the Nation of Islam took the X, which stood for their unknown African names. When Cassius Clay became a Muslim, he also took a new name, Muhammad Ali. The symbolism of the name change suggested a more militant turn to the civil rights movement.

  Arenas that had begged for fights now turned down ma
tches that involved Ali. In March 1966, Ali went to Toronto, Canada, to fight against George Chuvalo. Two months later he had a second fight with Henry Cooper in London. Ali won the match on a technical knockout when Cooper was so badly cut and bleeding that he could not continue the fight.

  On August 6, 1966, Ali defeated Brian London, another British heavyweight. The match lasted only three punishing rounds. A month later, on September 10, he beat Karl Mildenberger, in Frankfurt, Germany. In England, in all of Europe, Ali’s popularity was growing. His name change did not have the same symbolism abroad as it did in the United States. His personality was seen in Europe as just an extension of American brashness.

  Meanwhile, back home, there was increased resistance to the civil rights movement. Protest marchers were being hit by police billy clubs and tear gas. In June 1966, a civil rights worker, James H. Meredith, was shot as he led marchers on a pilgrimage from Memphis, Tennessee, to Jackson, Mississippi. In October 1966, the Black Panther party was formed in Oakland, California. Declaring themselves to be for the “self defense” of black people, the Panthers openly carried rifles, demonstrating a major escalation of militancy among young blacks in the civil rights struggle.

  Ali was finally allowed to fight in Houston, Texas, in November. Cleveland Williams had been a world-class fighter and a great puncher, but had had numerous problems outside of the ring. In 1964, before his fight with Ali, he had been severely injured by gunshots in a street disturbance. He recovered in time for the fight but was knocked out by Ali in three rounds.