Ali and Liston in the spring of 1960: Different journeys with the same destination.

Bill Gore trained Cleveland ‘Big Cat’ Williams for his two fights with Sonny Liston. Sonny knocked out Williams in three rounds in their first fight and completed the job one round quicker in the rematch the following year. After that second fight, Gore was asked how Liston compared to the heavyweight greats of the past. His response was brief and non-committal. ‘I haven’t seen enough of him.’

On April 25, 1960, Gore was back in the opposing corner to Sonny. This time, he was training Roy ‘Cut ‘N Shoot’ Harris. Bill faced the same question from reporters after Liston disposed of Harris with a first round stoppage that included three knockdowns. There was a sense of déjà vu about Gore’s response. ‘I haven’t seen enough of him.’

Charles ‘Sonny’ Liston was scheduled to face Roy Harris on April 25, 1960, over ten rounds at the Sam Houston Coliseum, Houston, Texas. Harris had been given the nickname Roy ‘Cut 'N Shoot’ Harris because he was from Cut and Shoot, Texas. Why the Texan town of Cut and Shoot had been so named was more of a mystery. On paper, Harris was a worthy opponent for Liston. The 26-year-old Texan was ranked the sixth best heavyweight in the world by The Ring magazine. He had challenged Floyd Patterson for world heavyweight title on August 18, 1958, lasting 12 rounds before being rescued by his corner. Going into the fight with Liston, the defeat to Patterson was the only blemish on his record against 29 professional victories. But this was a time when worthy opponents on paper often turned out to be hugely overmatched in the ring when facing a Sonny Liston in his menacing, destructive prime.

Debate continues over Liston’s date of birth, but reliable sources suggest that Sonny was born in rural Arkansas on July 22, 1930, meaning he was a few months shy of his thirtieth birthday when he stepped into the ring against Roy Harris. Sonny had compiled a professional record of 28-1 up to this point. The only blemish was an eight rounds points loss to Marty Marshall, during which Liston broke his jaw. He had since twice avenged that sole defeat. He was now ranked second by the National Boxing Association (NBA) and third by The Ring. While sentiment may have been with Harris, fighting in his home state, the smart money was on Sonny. The fight was billed as a heavyweight title elimination bout. Liston was edging closer to his goal of a shot at the world heavyweight title, currently held by Ingemar Johansson.

The Liston-Harris bout highlighted the evolving nature of boxing broadcasting. Ten cities in seven states would show the fight on closed-circuit television. In each of those venues, the on-screen action from Houston would top a bill of live fights, resulting in around 80 fighters boxing on the various undercards. In addition to that, fight fans in Houston without a ticket for the live event, could attend a closed-circuit showing at the Houston City Auditorium for $3. Ringside seats at the Coliseum cost $15.

Liston flew in from Philadelphia along with his wife Geraldine, his manager Pep Barone and his wife, and trainer Willie Reddish. This would be Sonny’s third fight of the year, the most recent of which had been the second-round demolition of Cleveland Williams which had also taken place in Houston. Liston was starting to feel at home in the Texan city and talked of moving there. Reddish declared his fighter ready for the challenge of Harris.

“He’s as fit as a fiddle and trim as a hungry bull.”

The Houston Chronicle gave Reddish the curious label of ‘vice-president in charge of strategy and physical conditioning’ in Liston’s camp.  Whatever his true job title or responsibilities, Reddish gave credit to the man Liston would be facing but he did not foresee any real difficulty for his fighter.

“Harris is a better boxer than Cleveland Williams and he’s a smarter fighter. But he can’t hurt Liston. I don’t look for it to go too long.”

Harry Cage, in the Houston Chronicle, wrote about Liston’s ‘atomic-powered fists which have blasted 19 of his 28 opponents into never-never land.’  Despite this hyperbolic reporting, Harris appeared untroubled by Liston’s burgeoning reputation. He felt that his assets could offset Liston’s power.

‘I don’t believe that Liston has fought many fighters of my style. I don’t intend to go out there and slug with him. I’m going to box him. It would be silly for me to try to match punches with him… Liston is a great deal bigger than Patterson, but he’s also slower. I believe that will be to my advantage.’

Sonny Liston generally avoided long-winded answers. He gave credit to Harris for being a ‘nice boxer.’ But that was where the flattery ended.

“I expect to knock Harris out just as quick as I got Williams. I don’t care how quick he is. I can catch him.”

Bill Gore, Harris’ trainer interpreted Sonny’s remarks as complacency.

‘This is just what we like to hear. I always like to meet an overconfident fighter. Liston is playing right into Roy’s hands.’

If Gore truly believed what he was telling reporters, he was very quickly disabused of that notion once the first bell rang. Referee Jimmy Webb waved the fight off at 2:35 of the first round. An early lead left hook made Harris blink and take a step back. The first knockdown came at about the midway point of the round. Liston, 213lbs, caught Harris, 195lbs, with a left hook as they came out of a clinch which sent him to the canvas. The Texan was up at the count of eight, but the end was nigh.

Sonny would not let his opponent off the hook. The size and strength difference between the two men seemed to be growing by the second. Harris had nothing with which to keep Liston at bay. A left-right combination from Sonny resulted in a second knockdown almost immediately. Again, Roy made it to his feet to beat the count. The finish came when Liston ‘buried his left into Harris’ midsection and crossed over with a right to crumple Roy like a rag doll.’

Just two years previously, Roy Harris had lasted 12 rounds against the then world heavyweight champion, Floyd Patterson. He hardly landed a blow against Sonny Liston. Writing in the Houston Post, Tom Davison compared Liston’s mauling of Harris to ‘a tiger striking down an antelope.’

More than 12,000 people attended the Coliseum to witness the one-sided beating. Another 1800 watched the whole card on closed circuit TV in the City Auditorium. Post-fight, Harris had praise for Liston and compared him favourably to the only other man to have beaten him.

‘He’s a lot harder puncher than Patterson. He has a lot more reach and is a lot better fighter than I thought. Patterson just never hit like this boy… I didn’t realise his reach was that long. I thought I was out of range. I was surprised by his strength. He’s like a bull. He shoved me all over.’

Liston was typically succinct in his summation of the brief contest.

‘I thought he was going to run. When he started to come in, I figured I’d nail him sooner or later.’

He went on to tell reporters that he knew it was over after the first knockdown.

‘The first left hook I threw, the one that knocked him down, did it. It was one of my easiest fights.’

Roy Harris had four more fights as a professional, losing three of them, before hanging up his gloves in May 1961 after a fourth-round stoppage defeat to Bob Cleroux back at the Coliseum in Houston. He finished his career with a record of 30-5. He lived to the very decent age of 90, passing away in August 2023.

Liston was rewarded by The Ring for the win over Harris by leapfrogging Zora Folley into the number one contender spot for the heavyweight title. Former champion Floyd Patterson, who would shortly face Ingemar Johansson in a title rematch was in third place. Sonny was also named The Ring’s Fighter of the Month. Liston declared that he wanted a shot at the title next. That was still highly unlikely. In the meantime, he would happily fight anyone who would get in his way.

Having watched Sonny dispatch both Cleveland Williams and then Roy Harris in quick succession, Clark Nealon, of the Houston Post, wrote that, ‘it would seem the only thing separating Liston from the championship, is a chance.’ That prediction was spot on, but Sonny would be made to wait more than two years for a shot at the title.

While Sonny Liston was enjoying his victory and his team were attempting to plot his way to a title shot, a gangly 18-year-old student at Louisville Central High School was facing a tough dilemma that could alter the trajectory of his life.

On May 3, 1960, it was reported that Cassius Clay had made his decision. Clay hated the thought of flying. He had previously been aboard a plane in Chicago when an engine failed prior to take off. Cassius got off and returned home by train instead.

Clay was the current 178lb Golden Gloves and AAU champion. The try-outs for the Olympic Boxing Team were scheduled for later that month in San Francisco. Success there would mean journeying to Rome for the Games themselves later in the year. Air travel would be the only option. Cassius met with a regional Olympic boxing committee and after they had explained the problems that would be created by a refusal to fly, he agreed ‘with some misgivings.’  He was on his way to San Francisco.

The Olympic boxing trials opened on Wednesday, 18 May at the Cow Palace, Daly City, immediately south of San Francisco. The field would be whittled down from 80 of the country’s top amateurs, to qualify for a team of ten who would then travel to Rome to represent the US at the Games. The team would be coached by Jules Menendez. He expressed his admiration for Cassius before the qualifying tournament.

‘Clay has the Olympic Games boxing style. He’s a stand-up fighter who boxes well and doesn’t fall into clinches.’

The name of Cassius Clay’s first opponent, in his quarter-final round, is not entirely certain. Boxrec, the respected online boxing database, refers to him as Henry Hooper. His scheduled three round bout with Clay is listed as his only fight, amateur or professional. The San Francisco Chronicle, the Louisville Times and the Paduca Sun all call him Cooper, rather than Hooper. One thing is for sure. He was not the left-hooking heavyweight idol of British boxing. He was definitely not THAT Henry Cooper.

Clay was considered ‘the class of the tournament’, while Cooper/Hooper was described as a ‘tough marine.’  Cassius was winning the fight without dominating, until mid-way through the third round when a smashing right hand to the jaw sent Cooper/Hooper to the canvas for the full count.

In the movie Back To The Future, our hero Marty McFly fills in on lead guitar at the 1955 Enchantment Under The Sea dance. McFly gets carried away on stage in an intense 1980s-style guitar solo, leaving the audience of 1950s teenagers in stunned silence. Realising what has happened, Marty stops playing and says to the crowd, ‘I guess you guys aren't ready for that yet. But your kids are gonna love it.’

Cassius Clay could have said the same thing to the 1960 Cow Palace crowd who booed his showboating and clowning tactics against Fred Lewis in his semi-final bout. They may not have liked his flashy style, but they should have appreciated his skill as he soundly outpointed his opponent. Lewis, from Phoenix, was powerful and game, but crude. Clay’s strong left jabs and right hands to the head were consistent enough to hammer out a clear-cut points win.

In the other semi-final of the 178lb class, Allen Hudson knocked out his opponent, Charles Hannah, with a left hook that put the Philadelphian down for the full count within the first minute of the contest. The San Francisco Examiner described Hudson and Clay as ‘two classy battlers’ and anticipated their showdown as ‘one of the greatest fights in the finals.’

Clay and Hudson met the following evening, May 20, 1960, to decide who would represent the United States in the light-heavyweight class at the Rome Olympics later that year. The 6,000 people in attendance at the Cow Palace continued to subject Clay to a torrent of boos as a result of his showboating antics from the two previous evenings. Even as a high school senior, Cassius demonstrated that he would not allow outside the ring distractions to affect him inside the boxing ring.

It was reported that Cassius ‘stole the show’ as he recorded the night’s only knockout by stopping Hudson in the third and final round. Clay narrowly took the first two rounds, before finding himself in trouble in the third when Hudson floored him with a body shot. Cassius made it to his feet, regained his composure and perfectly timed the advancing Hudson, catching him with a right to the jaw. Hudson was up at the count of nine, only to walk into another right hand from Clay. Referee Vern Bybee stepped between the fighters and declared Cassius the winner. Hudson did not take the stoppage well, needing to be restrained by his handlers. Visibly upset, he called to the referee, ‘How can you do this to me?’

Hudson may have disputed the stoppage, but the ringside reporters concurred with the referee’s decision. Jack Daugherty, of The Californian, described it thus.

‘From our press row seats it appeared that Bybee was 100 per cent right in stopping the encounter. Hudson staggered to the ropes and gazed starry-eyed at the crowd with his arms dangling outside the ropes after regaining his feet. Another blow by Cassius might have done irreparable damage to the game Hudson. We might add that Clay had his hands full until the Sunday punch caught Hudson on the whiskers.’

Scotty Stirling, of the Oakland Tribune was another ringsider who was impressed with Clay’s performance. He saw in Cassius what the rest of the world would come to see in the years to follow. Stirling wrote that Clay ‘showed tremendous ability’, adding that even while under pressure, ‘he fought his fight and had the stuff when he needed it most.’

Frankie Carter was a highly experienced boxing referee and amateur boxing official. He was a good judge of a fighter and was another who saw a bright future for Cassius Clay.

‘I think this kid Clay’s pretty good. I think he’s better than Joe Louis was when he was 18. He takes a good punch but is seldom hit. He’s got lots of stuff. He’s got good eyes and fast hands – and thinks fast too. He’s got the cockiness all good fighters have – and he’s not afraid to tell you either. I like that. He knows he can fight.  Clay’s probably the best amateur I’ve seen in 25 years – no, make that about 30. He’s got finesse and polish and shows the results of continual good training and instruction. I walked in on him the other day when he was painting a sign. And you know what the sign said? It said, “Cassius Clay, the heavyweight champion of the world!”’

Clay was certainly cocky and now bound for the 1960 Olympic Games, but he hadn’t even yet graduated from high school. Graduation was far from a certainty. Cassius had missed much of his final year, due to competing in boxing tournaments across the country. When he was in school, his academic performance was poor. Some of the teaching staff did not feel that he deserved to graduate. Clay, however, had an ally in the school principal, Atwood Wilson.

Wilson acknowledged the concerns of his staff but took the view that Cassius might one day become a very famous sportsman. If that turned out to be the case, the school would take pride in having him as a former student. Wilson did not want to be remembered as ‘the man who flunked Cassius Clay.’

Cassius collected his certificate of attendance from Louisville Central High School on June 11, 1960. He was now 18 years old and a high school graduate. His fighting weight was 178lbs and his next target was Olympic gold. Sonny Liston, meanwhile, was 29 years old, possibly even older than that according to some sources, and the most dangerous fighter on the planet. He had recently fought at a rock solid 213lbs and had been a professional fighter for seven years. To many observers he appeared to be the champion in waiting, irrespective of who held the crown when the time came for him to challenge for the title.

The spring of 1960 was a time pre-Beatles and JFK as President. Cassius Clay and Sonny Liston appeared light years apart, highly unlikely to enter each other’s orbit. What no one realised then, of course, was that the two fighters were already on a collision course. In four years’ time, that collision truly would shake up the world.