THE vanquished lay on a bed in semi-darkness, unable to recognise loved ones because his eyes were reduced to slits, while the victor’s brain would take 20 hours to recuperate.
The brutality of the October 1, 1975, heavyweight championship in Manila between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier later led Ali to say he had seen death on that day.
That fight, 30 years ago, was the third and final act in the Ali-Frazier trilogy, which began at New York’s Madison Square Garden over 15 rounds on March 8, 1971.
Both went into the first fight undefeated and Frazier clearly won that bout. Any doubt was blown away by Frazier’s savage left hook in the 15th that decked Ali.
Ali bravely got up and finished on his feet, a loser for the first time in his professional career.
On January 28, 1974, they faced up again at the same venue, the differences being the distance was 12 rounds and a championship belt wasn’t up for grabs.
Still, the desire was there. Ali was desperate to avenge his 1971 loss and Smokin’ Joe just hated the man he called Clay – a hatred that endures to this day.
The second fight was a fizzer, the pair clinching and holding more than fighting.
Ali won on points and it seemed their rivalry would end there.
After that fight few counted on Ali slaying another formidable foe when he somehow conjured up a way to beat world champion George Foreman on October 30, 1974, in Kinshasa, Zaire.
That win set the scene for Ali-Frazier III, the championship belt again up for grabs in the unlikely setting of Manila after the opportunistic Philippines president Ferdinand Marcos jumped at the chance to host the fight.
Ali arrived with an entourage of 50, a group that included some of the greatest low-rent hustlers known to mankind.
And then there was the stunning Veronica Porche, who, unbeknown to his second wife, Belinda, had been Ali’s mistress for a year.
When Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos invited Ali and Frazier to their palace, Ali took his parents, Cassius and Odessa, his trainer Angelo Dundee and Porche, who later became his third wife.
Marcos did what most men would do on seeing Porche, compliment Ali on his companion. “You have a beautiful wife,” Marcos said, as photographers snapped away.
Ali didn’t correct the mistake and, when it hit the US papers, his wife caught the first available plane to Manila.
Belinda spent a lively hour with her husband, providing Ali with some extra sparring before explaining how she would break the back “of that bitch when I see her”, and then flew straight home.
Ali was the favourite, given he had knocked Foreman out.
And Big Bad George had destroyed Frazier in Kingston, Jamaica, two years earlier.
Frazier was considered washed up, but the odds makers weren’t counting on the emotion and pride Smokin’ Joe could muster once he stepped in the ring.
Ali belittled Frazier at every opportunity leading up to the fight.
This extract from a press conference explains some of Frazier’s hatred:
“I’m gonna . . . ,” Frazier began.
“I’m going to, not I’m gonna. Talk intelligent,” Ali interrupted.
The Ali sycophants, which included a healthy proportion of the press contingent, laughed.
They laughed louder when Ali pulled a rubber gorilla from his pocket and began beating on it, screaming: “Come on gorilla, we’re in Manila. Come on gorilla, this is a thrilla.”
And a thriller it was, the most brutal hand-to-hand combat witnessed in the ring since the Marquess of Queensberry introduced the basic rules in 1867. The fight began at 10.45am, timed for closed-circuit TV in the US, with 25,000 packed into the Philippines Coliseum.
Ali came out with flashing fists, or, in his own words, “peckin’ and a pokin’, pouring water on Joe’s smokin”.
He dominated the early stages, but Frazier, grunting and wiping his face with his gloves to signify “let’s get it on”, kept on shuffling forward.
In Round 6 Frazier hit Ali with one of the greatest left hooks ever thrown. After regaining his senses and somehow staying on his feet, Ali muttered through a bloodied mouth: “They told me Joe Frazier was washed up.”
Before setting himself for another left hook, Frazier answered: “They lied.” And then he got back to the business he was born for, one-on-one combat.
The turning point came in the 12th when Ali staggered Frazier with an overhand right.
More of the same came in the 13th. Frazier’s mouthguard was knocked into the crowd.
By the 14th, Ali was landing unanswered blows. Frazier’s eyes were so swollen he could no longer see the deadly missiles.
His trainer Eddie Futch didn’t muck around, stopping the fight as Frazier protested.
Little did they know Ali had returned to his corner at the end of the round and instructed his trainer to cut his gloves off.
Dundee ignored the request, knowing Ali would go one more round.
Frazier was recently in Australia at a fight promotion.
He agreed to be interviewed on one condition: There be no mention of Ali. His comments in a 1990 interview with Thomas Hauser might explain why:
“I hated Ali. God might not like me talking that way, but I hated that man. First he made me a white man, then he made me a nigger.
“I’d like to fight Ali, Clay, whatever his name is again tomorrow. I still want to take him apart piece by piece.
“I will say this. In the ring he was a man. In Manila I hit him with punches that would have knocked a building down. And he took ’em. I gotta respect that part of the man.”
When Ali reflected on Manila in 1993, the bitterness felt by Frazier wasn’t evident, although those who were close to the fighters in the 1970s will tell you Ali was unnecessarily cruel to his foe.
“I’m sorry Joe is mad at me and I’m sorry I hurt him because he’s a good man,” Ali said.
“And if God ever calls me to a holy war, I want Joe fighting beside me.”
