Muhammad Ali vs Joe Frazier The Thrilla in Manila, Quezon City, The Philippines, October 1, 1975
The final instalment of the finest heavyweight trilogy saw Ali and Joe Frazier push each other to the brink and back again.
Ali was on top for the early exchanges, but Frazier and his trademark left hook gave his nemesis' body such brutal attention in the middle rounds that The Greatest would later remark, 'It was the closest thing to death'.
After the 10th, the champ was a beaten, broken man, slumped on his stool. It would get worse. The following round saw Ali trapped in Frazier's corner, with Smokin' Joe unleashing a torrent of punishment. 'I hit him with punches that would have brought down the walls of a city,' he said.
Somehow, he survived. He turned the fight around, and as Frazier's swollen right eye was rendered redundant, Ali was able to connect at will.
Bloodied, bruised and battered, trainer Eddie Futch threw in the towel between the 14th and 15th rounds, despite Frazier's furious protests.
'I didn't realise he was so great. He's a real, real fighter,' Ali said.
The Rumble in the Jungle: October 29, 1974, 20th of May Stadium, Kinshasa, Zaire
In the sweltering heat of Kinshasa, Ali faced the seemingly indomitable Foreman for his first title fight since first meeting Frazier.
Unbeaten in 40 fights, Foreman had made mincemeat of Frazier, knocking him down six times inside two rounds. He had intimidated Ken Norton too – the man who broke Ali’s jaw and took him 24 rounds in two fights – taking just five minutes to beat the former Marine.
Now aged 32, there were concerns for Ali’s safety against the devastating 25-year-old.
But a masterclass in pre-fight psychology saw the locals cheering on Ali (‘Ali bomaye,’ (‘Ali, kill him!’) they hollered ) while a bemused Foreman was jeered while walking his Alsatian – a symbol of the country’s colonial past.
Ali surprised everyone, starting with right-hand leads before his rope-a-dope tactic, which invited Foreman to literally punch himself out. A man conditioned for quick wins, Foreman gave Ali the beating of his life, but saw his energy sapped by continual holding and Ali's elastic-like leaning on the ropes.
In the eighth, Ali emerged from his self-enforced shell, with a left-right to Foreman’s face toppling the giant. At close to 3am local time, Ali had won the heavyweight title for the second time, and the heavens opened.
Cassius Clay vs Henry Cooper, June 18, 1963, Wembley Stadium
'It ain't no jive, Henry Cooper will go in five!', was the bold prediction. That's the long and short of it, but it wasn't that easy for the Louisville Lip.
An aggressive start from Cooper forced Clay into evasive tactics. Our 'Enry roughed up his younger, faster opponent but Clay regularly connected with his left jab, opening up a wound above the Londoner's left eye with a long right in the third.
As the brash American chased victory at the end of the following round, Cooper unleashed 'Enry's 'Ammer' and his trademark left hook floored Clay for the second time in his career.
Wily cornerman Angelo Dundee sprung into action, helping his woozy fighter to his stool. There, he gave him smelling salts - illegal in Britain at the time - and opened up a tear in his right glove to claim some priceless time.
'For a fit man, seconds are a lifetime. When you are really trained up, you need only 20 seconds and you are back to your old self,' Cooper would later say.
So it proved, and Clay would showcase his remarkable powers of recovery, winning in the fifth after a flurry of punches left referee Tommy Little no choice but to halt the fight, such was the damage to Cooper's left eye.
Cassius Clay vs Zbigniew Pietrzykowski, September 5, 1960, Rome
Cassius Marcellus Clay took some convincing to travel to Rome due to a fear of flying, but there was little doubt that the 18-year-old was destined for fame following his gold medal.
A record of 100 wins in 108 fights going into the Games meant many predicted Clay would win the light-heavyweight title. So it proved.
Showing his effusive personality in the Olympic village (he was known as the mayor, such was his determination to shake hands with everyone), Clay progressed to a final with portly Pole Zbigniew Pietrzykowski.
Initially stymied by his southpaw style, Clay took some heavy punishment in the opening round but adapted to his opponent - a trademark of his later career - in the second.
Knowing he needed a knockout in the final round, Clay attacked relentlessly. His opponent dazed by combinations and his speed, Clay drew blood and came close to that precious KO.
At the final bell Pietrzykowski was a spent force, relying on the ropes to keep him upright.
The five judges were unanimous in their decision, and a star was born.
'Ali booma-ya (Ali kill him),' many of the 60,000 fans screamed as the fight began in Kinshasa.
Ali pulled out a huge upset to win the heavyweight title for a second time, allowing Foreman to punch himself out. He used what he would later call the 'rope-a-dope' strategy — something even trainer Angelo Dundee knew nothing about.
Finally, he knocked out an exhausted Foreman in the eighth round, touching off wild celebrations among his African fans.
'I told you I was the greatest,' Ali said.
That might have been argued by followers of Joe Louis or Rocky Marciano or Sugar Ray Robinson, but there was no doubt that Ali was just what boxing needed in the early 1960s.
He spouted poetry and brash predictions. After the sullen and frightening Liston, he was a fresh and entertaining face in a sport that struggled for respectability.
At the weigh-in before his Feb. 25, 1964, fight with Liston, Ali carried on so much that some observers thought he was scared stiff and suggested the fight in Miami Beach be called off.
'The crowd did not dream when they lay down their money that they would see a total eclipse of the Sonny,' Ali said.
Ali went on to punch Liston's face lumpy and became champion for the first time when Liston quit on his stool after the sixth round.
'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,' became Ali's rallying cry.
His talent for talking earned him the nickname 'The Louisville Lip,' but he had a new name of his own in mind: Muhammad Ali.
'I don't have to be what you want me to be,' he told reporters the morning after beating Liston. 'I'm free to be who I want.'
Frazier refused to call Ali by his new name, insisting he was still Cassius Clay. So did Ernie Terrell in their Feb. 6, 1967, fight, a mistake he would come to regret through 15 long rounds.
'What's my name?' Ali demanded as he repeatedly punched Terrell in the face. 'What's my name?'
By the time Ali was able to return to the ring following his forced layoff, he was bigger than ever. Soon he was in the ring for his first of three epic fights against Frazier, with each fighter guaranteed $2.5 million.
Before the fight, Ali called Frazier an 'Uncle Tom' and said he was 'too ugly to be the champ.' His gamesmanship could have a cruel edge, especially when it was directed toward Frazier.
In the first fight, though, Frazier had the upper hand. He relentlessly wore Ali down, flooring him with a crushing left hook in the 15th round and winning a decision.
It was the first defeat for Ali, but the boxing world had not seen the last of him and Frazier in the ring. Ali won a second fight, and then came the 'Thrilla in Manila' on Oct. 1, 1975, in the Philippines, a brutal bout that Ali said afterward was 'the closest thing to dying' he had experienced.
Ali won that third fight but took a terrific beating from the relentless Frazier before trainer Eddie Futch kept Frazier from answering the bell for the 15th round.
'They told me Joe Frazier was through,' Ali told Frazier at one point during the fight.
'They lied,' Frazier said, before hitting Ali with a left hook.
The fight — which most in boxing agree was Ali's last great performance — was part of a 16-month period on the mid-1970s when Ali took his show on the road, fighting Foreman in Zaire, Frazier in the Philippines, Joe Bugner in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and Jean Pierre Coopman in Puerto Rico.
The world got a taste of Ali in splendid form with both his fists and his mouth.
In Malaysia, a member of the commission in charge of the gloves the fighters would wear told Ali they would be held in a prison for safekeeping before the fight.
'My gloves are going to jail,' shouted a wide-eyed Ali. 'They ain't done anything— yet!'
Ali would go on to lose the title to Leon Spinks, then come back to win it a third time on Sept. 15, 1978, when he scored a decision over Spinks in a rematch before 70,000 people at the Superdome in New Orleans.
Ali retired, only to come back and try to win the title for a fourth time against Larry Holmes on Oct. 2, 1980, at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. Ali grew a mustache, pronounced himself 'Dark Gable' and got down to a svelte 217 1/2 pounds to beat Father Time. But Holmes, his former sparring partner, mercifully toyed with him until Dundee refused to let Ali answer the bell for the 11th round.
'He was like a little baby after the first round,' Holmes said. 'I was throwing punches and missing just for the hell of it. I kept saying, 'Ali, why are you taking this?'
'He said, 'Shut up and fight, I'm going to knock you out.''
When the fight was over, Holmes and his wife went upstairs to pay their respects to Ali. In a darkened room, Holmes told Ali that he loved him.
'Then why did you whip my ass like that?' Ali replied.
A few years later, Ali said he would not have fought Holmes if he didn't think he could have won.
'If I had known Holmes was going to whip me and damage my brain, I would not have fought him,' Ali said. 'But losing to Holmes and being sick are not important in God's world.'
It was that world that Ali retreated to, fighting just once more, losing a 10-round decision to Trevor Berbick in the Bahamas.
With his fourth wife, Lonnie, at his side, Ali traveled the world for Islam and other causes. In 1990, he went to Iraq on his own initiative to meet with Saddam Hussein and returned to the United States with 15 Americans who had been held hostage.
One of the hostages recounted meeting Ali in Thomas Hauser's 1990 biography 'Muhammad Ali — His Life and Times.'
'I've always known that Muhammad Ali was a super sportsman; but during those hours that we were together, inside that enormous body I saw an angel,' hostage Harry Brill-Edwards said.
For his part, Ali didn't complain about the price he had paid in the ring.
'What I suffered physically was worth what I've accomplished in life,' he said in 1984. 'A man who is not courageous enough to take risks will never accomplish anything in life.'
The final instalment of the finest heavyweight trilogy saw Ali and Joe Frazier push each other to the brink and back again.
Ali was on top for the early exchanges, but Frazier and his trademark left hook gave his nemesis' body such brutal attention in the middle rounds that The Greatest would later remark, 'It was the closest thing to death'.
After the 10th, the champ was a beaten, broken man, slumped on his stool. It would get worse. The following round saw Ali trapped in Frazier's corner, with Smokin' Joe unleashing a torrent of punishment. 'I hit him with punches that would have brought down the walls of a city,' he said.
Somehow, he survived. He turned the fight around, and as Frazier's swollen right eye was rendered redundant, Ali was able to connect at will.
Bloodied, bruised and battered, trainer Eddie Futch threw in the towel between the 14th and 15th rounds, despite Frazier's furious protests.
'I didn't realise he was so great. He's a real, real fighter,' Ali said.
The Rumble in the Jungle: October 29, 1974, 20th of May Stadium, Kinshasa, Zaire
In the sweltering heat of Kinshasa, Ali faced the seemingly indomitable Foreman for his first title fight since first meeting Frazier.
Unbeaten in 40 fights, Foreman had made mincemeat of Frazier, knocking him down six times inside two rounds. He had intimidated Ken Norton too – the man who broke Ali’s jaw and took him 24 rounds in two fights – taking just five minutes to beat the former Marine.
Now aged 32, there were concerns for Ali’s safety against the devastating 25-year-old.
But a masterclass in pre-fight psychology saw the locals cheering on Ali (‘Ali bomaye,’ (‘Ali, kill him!’) they hollered ) while a bemused Foreman was jeered while walking his Alsatian – a symbol of the country’s colonial past.
Ali surprised everyone, starting with right-hand leads before his rope-a-dope tactic, which invited Foreman to literally punch himself out. A man conditioned for quick wins, Foreman gave Ali the beating of his life, but saw his energy sapped by continual holding and Ali's elastic-like leaning on the ropes.
In the eighth, Ali emerged from his self-enforced shell, with a left-right to Foreman’s face toppling the giant. At close to 3am local time, Ali had won the heavyweight title for the second time, and the heavens opened.
Cassius Clay vs Henry Cooper, June 18, 1963, Wembley Stadium
'It ain't no jive, Henry Cooper will go in five!', was the bold prediction. That's the long and short of it, but it wasn't that easy for the Louisville Lip.
An aggressive start from Cooper forced Clay into evasive tactics. Our 'Enry roughed up his younger, faster opponent but Clay regularly connected with his left jab, opening up a wound above the Londoner's left eye with a long right in the third.
As the brash American chased victory at the end of the following round, Cooper unleashed 'Enry's 'Ammer' and his trademark left hook floored Clay for the second time in his career.
Wily cornerman Angelo Dundee sprung into action, helping his woozy fighter to his stool. There, he gave him smelling salts - illegal in Britain at the time - and opened up a tear in his right glove to claim some priceless time.
'For a fit man, seconds are a lifetime. When you are really trained up, you need only 20 seconds and you are back to your old self,' Cooper would later say.
So it proved, and Clay would showcase his remarkable powers of recovery, winning in the fifth after a flurry of punches left referee Tommy Little no choice but to halt the fight, such was the damage to Cooper's left eye.
Cassius Clay vs Zbigniew Pietrzykowski, September 5, 1960, Rome
Cassius Marcellus Clay took some convincing to travel to Rome due to a fear of flying, but there was little doubt that the 18-year-old was destined for fame following his gold medal.
A record of 100 wins in 108 fights going into the Games meant many predicted Clay would win the light-heavyweight title. So it proved.
Showing his effusive personality in the Olympic village (he was known as the mayor, such was his determination to shake hands with everyone), Clay progressed to a final with portly Pole Zbigniew Pietrzykowski.
Initially stymied by his southpaw style, Clay took some heavy punishment in the opening round but adapted to his opponent - a trademark of his later career - in the second.
Knowing he needed a knockout in the final round, Clay attacked relentlessly. His opponent dazed by combinations and his speed, Clay drew blood and came close to that precious KO.
At the final bell Pietrzykowski was a spent force, relying on the ropes to keep him upright.
The five judges were unanimous in their decision, and a star was born.
'Ali booma-ya (Ali kill him),' many of the 60,000 fans screamed as the fight began in Kinshasa.
Ali pulled out a huge upset to win the heavyweight title for a second time, allowing Foreman to punch himself out. He used what he would later call the 'rope-a-dope' strategy — something even trainer Angelo Dundee knew nothing about.
Finally, he knocked out an exhausted Foreman in the eighth round, touching off wild celebrations among his African fans.
'I told you I was the greatest,' Ali said.
That might have been argued by followers of Joe Louis or Rocky Marciano or Sugar Ray Robinson, but there was no doubt that Ali was just what boxing needed in the early 1960s.
He spouted poetry and brash predictions. After the sullen and frightening Liston, he was a fresh and entertaining face in a sport that struggled for respectability.
At the weigh-in before his Feb. 25, 1964, fight with Liston, Ali carried on so much that some observers thought he was scared stiff and suggested the fight in Miami Beach be called off.
'The crowd did not dream when they lay down their money that they would see a total eclipse of the Sonny,' Ali said.
Ali went on to punch Liston's face lumpy and became champion for the first time when Liston quit on his stool after the sixth round.
'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,' became Ali's rallying cry.
His talent for talking earned him the nickname 'The Louisville Lip,' but he had a new name of his own in mind: Muhammad Ali.
'I don't have to be what you want me to be,' he told reporters the morning after beating Liston. 'I'm free to be who I want.'
Frazier refused to call Ali by his new name, insisting he was still Cassius Clay. So did Ernie Terrell in their Feb. 6, 1967, fight, a mistake he would come to regret through 15 long rounds.
'What's my name?' Ali demanded as he repeatedly punched Terrell in the face. 'What's my name?'
By the time Ali was able to return to the ring following his forced layoff, he was bigger than ever. Soon he was in the ring for his first of three epic fights against Frazier, with each fighter guaranteed $2.5 million.
Before the fight, Ali called Frazier an 'Uncle Tom' and said he was 'too ugly to be the champ.' His gamesmanship could have a cruel edge, especially when it was directed toward Frazier.
In the first fight, though, Frazier had the upper hand. He relentlessly wore Ali down, flooring him with a crushing left hook in the 15th round and winning a decision.
It was the first defeat for Ali, but the boxing world had not seen the last of him and Frazier in the ring. Ali won a second fight, and then came the 'Thrilla in Manila' on Oct. 1, 1975, in the Philippines, a brutal bout that Ali said afterward was 'the closest thing to dying' he had experienced.
Ali won that third fight but took a terrific beating from the relentless Frazier before trainer Eddie Futch kept Frazier from answering the bell for the 15th round.
'They told me Joe Frazier was through,' Ali told Frazier at one point during the fight.
'They lied,' Frazier said, before hitting Ali with a left hook.
The fight — which most in boxing agree was Ali's last great performance — was part of a 16-month period on the mid-1970s when Ali took his show on the road, fighting Foreman in Zaire, Frazier in the Philippines, Joe Bugner in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and Jean Pierre Coopman in Puerto Rico.
The world got a taste of Ali in splendid form with both his fists and his mouth.
In Malaysia, a member of the commission in charge of the gloves the fighters would wear told Ali they would be held in a prison for safekeeping before the fight.
'My gloves are going to jail,' shouted a wide-eyed Ali. 'They ain't done anything— yet!'
Ali would go on to lose the title to Leon Spinks, then come back to win it a third time on Sept. 15, 1978, when he scored a decision over Spinks in a rematch before 70,000 people at the Superdome in New Orleans.
Ali retired, only to come back and try to win the title for a fourth time against Larry Holmes on Oct. 2, 1980, at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. Ali grew a mustache, pronounced himself 'Dark Gable' and got down to a svelte 217 1/2 pounds to beat Father Time. But Holmes, his former sparring partner, mercifully toyed with him until Dundee refused to let Ali answer the bell for the 11th round.
'He was like a little baby after the first round,' Holmes said. 'I was throwing punches and missing just for the hell of it. I kept saying, 'Ali, why are you taking this?'
'He said, 'Shut up and fight, I'm going to knock you out.''
When the fight was over, Holmes and his wife went upstairs to pay their respects to Ali. In a darkened room, Holmes told Ali that he loved him.
'Then why did you whip my ass like that?' Ali replied.
A few years later, Ali said he would not have fought Holmes if he didn't think he could have won.
'If I had known Holmes was going to whip me and damage my brain, I would not have fought him,' Ali said. 'But losing to Holmes and being sick are not important in God's world.'
It was that world that Ali retreated to, fighting just once more, losing a 10-round decision to Trevor Berbick in the Bahamas.
With his fourth wife, Lonnie, at his side, Ali traveled the world for Islam and other causes. In 1990, he went to Iraq on his own initiative to meet with Saddam Hussein and returned to the United States with 15 Americans who had been held hostage.
One of the hostages recounted meeting Ali in Thomas Hauser's 1990 biography 'Muhammad Ali — His Life and Times.'
'I've always known that Muhammad Ali was a super sportsman; but during those hours that we were together, inside that enormous body I saw an angel,' hostage Harry Brill-Edwards said.
For his part, Ali didn't complain about the price he had paid in the ring.
'What I suffered physically was worth what I've accomplished in life,' he said in 1984. 'A man who is not courageous enough to take risks will never accomplish anything in life.'
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