Nine Years Without Ali – World Boxing Association

Back in 1984, the world of sports—and indeed the world at large—was shaken by the heartbreaking news that Muhammad Ali, the most charismatic boxer to ever lace up gloves, had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. The degenerative illness would ultimately hasten his passing on June 3, 2016, nine years ago today, in a Scottsdale, Arizona hospital. The official cause of death: septic shock due to natural causes.

It is in remembrance of that loss that we revisit this piece, lightly revised, as a tribute to the man many still regard as the greatest heavyweight of all time—perhaps rivaled only by the legendary Joe Louis. Ali famously dubbed himself “The Greatest,” and his flamboyant cornerman Drew “Bundini” Brown forever captured his essence with the iconic phrase: “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

Nicknamed “The Louisville Lip” by the press for his brash and unapologetic swagger, Ali—born Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr.—was 74 when he passed. He was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky, a city that gave birth to one of sport’s most transcendent figures. Few took time to honor him on that somber day, a silence that feels unjust considering how Ali, with his unmatched flair and magnetism, brought boxing back to life—just as Babe Ruth once did for baseball in the wake of the infamous 1919 Black Sox scandal.

Ali didn’t just fight in the ring—he revolutionized it. Before him, no heavyweight dared to keep his hands low, predict the round he’d win in, or dance across the canvas with such grace and speed. He made talking trash an art form, and did it better than anyone, inside or outside the ropes.

When Ali burst onto the scene, boxing was losing its luster. He didn’t just reignite the sport—he redefined it. There was boxing before Ali, and there was boxing after him. Fans, whether in awe or in outrage, were captivated by this once-in-a-lifetime showman who called himself “the prettiest fighter alive.”

By the time he stepped away from the sport in 1981, he had left behind a legacy few could match: 61 fights, 56 wins, 37 of them by knockout, 25 world title bouts, and just 5 defeats. Only one of those losses came by stoppage—late in his career, when time and the toll of war had finally caught up with the warrior.

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THE EPIC BATTLES

Of those 61 bouts, several stand above the rest. Chief among them: the unforgettable trilogy with his greatest rival, Joe Frazier; the seismic upset of George Foreman in Zaire; three hard-fought wars with Ken Norton; and the pair of landmark bouts with Sonny Liston.

It was against Liston that Ali first seized the crown. On February 25, 1964, a 22-year-old Clay took on the heavily favored Liston—holder of the WBA, WBC, and The Ring titles—at the Miami Beach Convention Hall. Despite a rough fifth round in which Clay claimed his eyes were burning—possibly due to a foreign substance on Liston’s gloves—his trainer Angelo Dundee urged him to fight on. In Round 6, the tide turned, and when the bell rang for Round 7, Liston refused to get off his stool. A new king was born.

They met again on May 25 that same year in Lewiston, Maine. Now a Muslim and known as Muhammad Ali, he flattened Liston in the first round with what would come to be known as the “phantom punch”—a quick right that only a few spectators even saw.

Ali’s trilogy with Joe Frazier is etched in history as perhaps the greatest rivalry the sport has ever seen. The first, on March 8, 1971 at Madison Square Garden, was dubbed “The Fight of the Century”. Both men were undefeated. Frazier dropped Ali in the 15th with a crushing left hook and won a unanimous decision.

They met again on January 28, 1974, with Ali eking out a narrow decision. But it was their third bout—“The Thrilla in Manila”, October 1, 1975—that became legend. In one of the most brutal fights in boxing history, Frazier couldn’t answer the bell for Round 14. Moments earlier, a completely spent Ali had told Dundee he was ready to quit. The old fox told him to hang on—and seconds later, Frazier stayed seated.

As Ali walked past the press on his way to the dressing room, he said: “This is the closest thing to dying I’ve ever known.” Frazier, who passed away in 2011, preceded his greatest rival on that final journey.

Ken Norton broke Ali’s jaw in their first meeting on March 31, 1973, winning a split decision. Ali would go on to win the rematch later that year, and a controversial rubber match in ’76.

Against George Foreman, Ali produced his masterpiece. October 30, 1974—The Rumble in the Jungle. In Kinshasa, Zaire, a 32-year-old Ali faced the fearsome, undefeated Foreman. Backed by the crowd chanting “Ali bomaye!” (Ali, kill him!), he absorbed punishment while leaning on the ropes—a tactic later called the Rope-a-Dope—before unleashing a ferocious combo in the 8th that put Big George on the canvas. It was a moment watched by over 300 million people, still one of the largest TV audiences for any sporting event.

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A FORGOTTEN GIANT

Today, Ali is, tragically, too often a forgotten ghost. His frail, trembling figure lighting the Olympic flame at the 1996 Atlanta Games broke hearts worldwide. But before that, Ali had toured the globe promoting peace and championing civil rights, never backing down from any fight, in or out of the ring.

This tribute is just a small reminder of a man who stumbled into boxing at age 12, after a thief stole his bicycle and a local cop, Joe Martin, told him he’d better learn how to fight before trying to find the culprit. He did just that—and how.

He won Olympic gold in Rome in 1960, turned pro that same year, and never looked back. His last fight came in December 1981, a loss to Trevor Berbick in the Bahamas. Before that, Larry Holmes, his former sparring partner, had stopped him in 1980—the only KO loss of his career.

Ali was the first—and still the only—man to win the lineal heavyweight title three times: 1964, 1974, 1978. He paid a high price for his beliefs, refusing induction into the U.S. Army during the Vietnam War on religious and moral grounds. That decision cost him his titles and three and a half years in exile. But he came back. He always came back.

His life defies summation. Ali was not only the most famous boxer who ever lived, but one of the most important figures of the 20th century—an athlete, a symbol, a fighter for justice.

His story is inexhaustible. So for now, we’ll let this be enough.