IT WAS on May 25 1965 that arguably the most controversial fight in the history of boxing took place.

On this date, Muhammad Ali faced his then boxing nemesis, Sonny Liston, in Lewiston, Maine. The occasion was the eagerly anticipated rematch of their epic and historical first fight. Said first fight had seen the world witness a stunning upset, involving a braggadocious 22-year-old Cassius Clay climbing into the ring to face the most feared heavyweight of the times.

Sonny Liston’s ferocity was only matched by his viciousness, as he literally bludgeoned and clubbed his way to the top of the sport, having originally taken up boxing while in prison. A leg breaker for the mob, Liston was the black man white America feared — the one who haunted it in its worst nightmares.

That this young, lithe 22-year-old relative newbie on the scene had the temerity to think he could even share a ring with the reigning heavyweight world champion, never mind defeat him, seemed to the boxing cognoscenti of the day to be a species of insanity. But Clay did precisely that, and in spectacular style, forcing Liston to quit on his stool.

Between that first epic encounter in Miami on February 25 1964 and the rematch over a year later on May 25 1965 in Lewiston, much had happened in the life and times of Cassius Clay.

The most significant event to occur in this period was the assassination of Malcolm X on February 21 1965 in at the Audubon Ballroom in Harlem, New York — shot while in the process of delivering a speech to a packed audience. Malcolm’s demise came as the culmination of his ugly split from the Nation of Islam. His very public denunciation of the Nation’s cult leader, Elijah Muhammad, had made headline news across the US. It also signed his own death warrant.

Malcolm had been Clay’s mentor, friend and spiritual guide combined. It was Malcolm who had recruited Clay into the Nation, and he’d been present at his fight against Liston in Miami. But by this point, Malcolm’s split from Elijah and the Nation was underway. It dictated that when Ali emerged victorious in Miami, a tug of war ensued between Malcolm and Elijah for the heart and mind of Cassius Clay. 

As history shows, Elijah won this particular battle. Where before he had distanced himself from Clay in advance of a fight he and most others were convinced he could not win, now he went all out to seduce him. As part of this charm offensive he anointed the new heavyweight champion with the name Muhammad Ali, and ultimately succeeded in turning him against Malcolm. It was a personal betrayal, leaving Malcolm isolated at a time when the storm clouds of his looming murder were gathering.

In the wake of his assassination in February 1965, Malcolm’s followers were set on revenge. Death threats were issued. Some of them were directed at Ali over his perceived treachery in turning his back on the man credited with providing him with spiritual guidance and courage. This at a time when to be black and defiant in the US was to be an enemy of the state.

As for Liston, by the time of the rematch he was a tragic figure, despised by his own people in the name of the sport’s new and young handsome king. Reports of heavy drug and alcohol use emerged, while his links to the mob remained. The mob knew Sonny’s secrets, and he was afraid of their power, which is how they kept him in line.

Liston’s ring inactivity since the first fight was of a piece with a fighter who had fallen out of love with his craft. Late nights in casinos and nightclubs had taken precedence over early morning runs in the woods. He burned through money at a ferocious rate, and more was never enough.

This then was the backdrop to a rematch that between two black heavyweights who were so unpopular with the US sporting public at the time, that a paltry 2,434 people went to the trouble of purchasing tickets to watch it live at the Central Maine Civic Center.

The originally intended venue for the rematch had been Boston. It had been scheduled to take place in November 1964. However this initially scheduled date was postponed due to Ali having to undergo an emergency hernia operation. Thereafter, the local authorities stepped in to stop the contest being held in Boston at all, citing Liston’s mob ties and Ali’s membership of the Nation of Islam as reason.

In his press conference ahead of the rematch in Lewiston, Ali was asked by a reporter about the death threats he’d received in the wake of Malcolm’s assassination, including one delivered in the weeks preceding the upcoming fight. 

The question, its timing, clearly rattled the young heavyweight champion, who proceeded to rail against the police’s failure to intercept and catch those responsible. It was a toxic period in American and also Ali’s affairs. Perhaps he realised that by abandoning his former mentor in his time of greatest need, he had abandoned a part of himself.

As to the actual fight, it is known to history as the fight of the “phantom punch.” Ali preferred to name it the fight of the “anchor punch.”

There he is, a fleet-footed Ali, circling his opponent — the formerly formidable Sonny Liston, who on this night moved with the sluggishness of a geriatric imitation of the fighter he’d once been.

A first round KO of Liston by Ali on the back of an overhand right, as he evaded a lazy Liston jab, was immediately met by a chorus of boos from the crowd in attendance. Chants of “Fix! Fix! Fix!” filled the venue. Accusations that Liston took a dive at the behest of his mob handlers still today is a source of controversy and debate.

The real takeaway from the fight during this most turbulent period in the story of America is this: two men — Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston — representative of masculine strength and spirit, were in truth controlled by others. Liston lived under the orders of organised criminals who despised him, while Ali was a member of a religious cult that exploited him.