And Then There Was One

After months of drumbeating, chest thumping and lip flapping, Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier finally came to blows last week. And after 15 punishing rounds, the much ballyhooed "Fight of the Century" established two unmistakable truths. The first was that Frazier, in pounding out a decision over Ali, had proved himself to be the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world. The second was that Joe had been absolutely right when he predicted it would be "one hell of a fight."

Given the extraordinary interest in what Ali grandiloquently called "the biggest sporting event in the history of the whole planet earth," anything short of a slugfest would have been anticlimactic. The two heavyweights delivered--and so did the fans. TV hookups, which beamed the bout to 300 million viewers in 46 countries, pushed the total gate to a possible $20 million. According to Las Vegas bookies, the fight generated an estimated $1 billion in bets. On the big night, Madison Square Garden scalpers were demanding--and getting--$850 for a $150 ringside seat.

The turnout befitted the tariff. Surveying the crowd, Ring Announcer Johnny Addie declared that "everybody is here tonight." He was almost right. At ringside were Astronauts Alan Shepard, Stu Roosa and Edgar Mitchell, Senators Hubert Humphrey and John Tunney, Ed Sullivan, Andy Williams, Ethel Kennedy, Bullfighter El Cordobes, Frank Sinatra, Dick Cavett, Danny Kaye, Bill Cosby, David Frost, Michael Caine, Woody Allen, Burt Bacharach--to cite a few. Then there were the costumes, which ranged from brocaded tuxedos and sequined capes to tangerine jumpsuits and mink-trimmed robes. Salvador Dali had one look at the proceedings and pronounced them "surrealistic."

Elsewhere in the U.S., the action at some of the 337 closed-circuit TV sites was a bit too realistic. In the Chicago Coliseum, a riot broke out when the TV transmission broke down. Across town at the International Amphitheater, police had to turn firehoses on an angry mob of 1,000 trying to storm their way into the sold-out house. In Pittsburgh, 5,500 hardy souls braved subfreezing temperatures and icy 30-m.p.h. winds to see the fight outdoors at the Three Rivers Stadium. The fight fever knew no boundaries. In Manila, classes were suspended so that schoolchildren could watch along with their teachers. In Rome and London, scores of fans stayed home from work to rest up for the 4 a.m. telecast.

Hook for Hook. The action in the ring was thoroughly in keeping with the action outside. Very little went according to plan--certainly not Ali's plan, which called for a sixth-round knockout of Frazier. At the opening bell, Joe, the most fearsome body puncher around, went immediately--and wildly--for Ali's head. Ali, the celebrated stick-and-run dancer, very often stood flatfooted and, in what proved to be his ultimate undoing, tried trading hook for jolting hook. In the early going, Ali's long, rapid-fire jabs and lightning combinations kept the ever-charging Frazier at bay. Then, in an attempt to kill time and possibly psych his opponent, Ali began leaning against the ropes and beckoning Frazier to have a go at his body. When Frazier did land a punch, AH would shake his head to show that it had not hurt. Once, after absorbing a Frazier flurry, Ali crowed, "Nooo contest."

Slowly finding his rhythm, Frazier seemed to grow stronger as Ali began to weaken. In the eleventh round, the roundhouse lefts that had earlier been missing Ali by as much as a full foot began to find their mark. Rocked by two hammering hooks, the staggering Ali barely managed to hang on until the bell. Coming back, Ali won the 14th, but 21 seconds into the final round, Frazier caught him with a head-snapping left hook that dropped him flat on his back. Dazed, Ali was up at the count of three, but his game attempt to rally was too little, too late. The decision for Frazier was unanimous.

"I've got to give Clay credit," said Frazier afterward, while handlers applied ice packs to the swollen knobs on his face. "He takes some punches. Oh, my God, that shot I hit him with in the last round ... I went back home, back to the country for that one." For what had to be the first time in his career, the Louisville Lip was not available for the postfight rehash. He was hustled to the hospital for X rays of his cheek, which was puffed out like a balloon. His jaw, it turned out, was not broken --nor was his spirit. "You lose, you lose," he said. "More important things to worry about in life. I'm probably a better man for it. Now all I want to do is to go home to my wife and children, cut the grass, eat fattening foods and see what materializes." Then, as an afterthought, he muttered: "Next time I'll really get him."

Next time? In keeping with the old boxing adage that one good fight--especially one with the richest gate ever --deserves another, the promoters last week were already stumping for the seemingly inevitable Frazier v. Ali rematch. Garden Matchmaker Teddy Brenner can see it now. "The next one," he says gleefully, "will be called 'Ali's Revenge.' "

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