Muhammad Ali: The Twilight Years
Muhammad Ali carried on way past the point of no return. We can debate when he should have called time on his quite remarkable career. Arguably, it could have been after his ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ with George Foreman in 1974. More than arguably, it should have been after his near-death experience with Joe Frazier in the sweltering Manila heat in 1975. Even if we give Ali the benefit of the doubt after those two brutal wars with perhaps his two greatest rivals, the night he made history by winning the heavyweight championship of the world for a then-unprecedented third time against Leon Spinks in 1978, would have been the perfect time to walk away. In fairness, he did, but it wasn’t for good.
Ali returned after a brief hiatus and had two more fights with Larry Holmes and Trevor Berbick, fights that almost certainly shortened his life and badly affected the quality of that life once the gloves were finally laid to rest. Those two fights were desperately sad and regrettable affairs. Ali paid a heavy price, maybe the ultimate price, for his refusal to call time.
The later years left Ali a shadow of his former self. He suffered from Parkinson’s Syndrome, which left him practically a prisoner in his own body. A prisoner of the past and the unmatched fighter he once was. Ali just couldn’t let go. The whispers in his ear, the need for money, his own never-ending thirst for the limelight. All contributed to that long, painful goodbye. Even if he really wanted to quit at the top, for many reasons, it was one of the few fights he could never win. Ali was big business, and even when he was bankrupt as a fighter, the creditors needed to bleed the gravy train one last time. Ali was trapped in a travelling circus with the vultures circling to ensure there was no escape.
Ali lost his prime in exile, and when he returned after those three years away, something was missing. The speed was a fraction slower, the legs a little heavier, and he learned a new skill, the ability to soak up plenty of punishment. Even when he returned a slightly lesser version of what he once was, Ali was still a fabulous fighter, but the decline had set in. We saw a little of it in those tentative early comeback fights, especially the night Joe Frazier reminded him that everything wasn’t as it was prior to Ali leaving the sport in 1967. Ali was sensational the night he beat Zora Folley in his last fight before his enforced absence. It was Ali at his absolute peak. When he returned with those comeback wins in 1970 against Jerry Quarry and Oscar Bonavena, Ali looked slower and, more importantly, beatable. Frazier proved that theory on that memorable night at Madison Square Garden in 1971.
Ken Norton beat Ali in their first fight in 1973, adding another defeat on the previously unblemished resume of Ali. In the immediate rematch, Ali got his revenge. But only just. Foreman was expected to end the Muhammad Ali story in 1974. Ali defied all the doomsday predictions, but he took a fearful battering in doing so. The rope-a-dope tactics worked, but at what cost to Ali’s health. The brutality of that night in Manila must have done untold damage to Ali. The heat was unrelenting, and the air conditioning had decided to take the night off. Ali would say later it was the closest thing to death. That night effectively finished off both Ali and Frazier. Neither heeded the warnings to quit.
Ferdie Pacheco, the resident fight doctor for Ali, had wanted him to quit the sport in the two fights before Frazier. A hard fight with Ron Lyle, and one where Ali was behind on points until he stopped an exhausted Lyle in the 11th round, and the return with Joe Bugner in the punishing heat in Kuala Lumpa had prompted Pacheco to say to Ali it was time to go. Ali ignored the warnings, and then he had that incredibly hard fight with Frazier. Pacheco said after the Bugner fight that Ali still had his health, we can only speculate what those final years of Ali would have been like without those last life-changing fights Ali had. Pacheco walked away, Ali should have followed him.
A trip to Japan in 1976 for a ‘fight’ with Japanese wrestler Antonio Inoki nearly ended in disaster for Ali. He developed blood clots in his legs courtesy of Inoki, kicking them constantly throughout 15 rounds. Ali was told to rest and elevate his legs, but instead, he flew to Korea for an exhibition. He could have lost one of his legs. He didn’t, but it did further damage his body didn’t need.
Ali fought ten more times after his third meeting with Frazier. He was fortunate not to end his trilogy with Ken Norton on the wrong side of the scoring, but his luck ran out when the novice Leon Spinks took his title away in 1978. Ali got his revenge later that year and briefly retired before the temptation was too great to ignore. Those final two fights with Holmes and Berbick must have done irreparable damage to Ali. But in truth, the signs were already there. How his life ended didn’t need any benefit of hindsight. Ali couldn’t get a boxing license in America to fight Berbick. A little trip to the Bahamas got the fight signed, sealed and delivered. The dirty dollar always finds a way.
Muhammad Ali had spoken about retiring many times in those last few years. His story would likely have had a completely different ending if either Zaire or Manila were the final chapters in his boxing career. Ali needed to keep fighting for many reasons, including the need for the dollar. By 1979, the millions he had earned during his quite remarkable career were all but gone. Ali always thought he was different. Sadly, at least in some ways, he wasn’t.
It seems to be that way with a lot of the great fighters.I don’t know if it is the need for money or pride.
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