Ali vs. Inoki

by Josh Gross

  “It’s hard for these fighters to adjust to these rules because these rules are new to them,” Bannister said. “You can believe Muhammad Ali, being the heavyweight champion of the world, has already signed a contract to defend his title at Yankee Stadium on the 28th of September with Ken Norton; his corner is going to be watching every move that he makes. And they do not want Muhammad Ali to get hurt.”

  The boot issue also became a nuisance. LeBell was forced to halt the fight several times to apply tape to Inoki’s sole. Inoki waved his arms in frustration. “Oh Gene!” he said. Bannister suggested he wouldn’t be surprised if the match was stopped so Inoki could change boots, but that didn’t happen. Any delay would have turned what was an unbearable contest to most observers into an unmitigated disaster. The tedious eighth ended with a disgusted Ali saying, “Nothing. Inoki nothing!”

  Angelo Dundee and the rest of Ali’s corner were obviously concerned as they inspected the fighter’s banged-up wheel. That mattered much more than, as Bannister put it, the possibility “at this point Inoki—Inoki!—may just be ahead of Muhammad Ali on points as we go into Round number 9.” Meanwhile, Ali berated Inoki from across the ring. “Stand up like man,” he yelled. “Fight! Stand up like man. Fight! Inoki don’t fight like man. Inoki fight like cripple. Coward! Inoki coward! Fight on floor like girl.”

  ROUND 9

  Ali’s left thigh, never before feeling the wrath kicks can bring, was swollen and sweating and just a mess as the fight resumed. Most people watching around the world may not have understood the impact of Inoki’s strategy, but that didn’t mean it was ineffective.

  “Ali now has to be on the defense and wait to land a punch,” Bannister said as the fighters squared off. “One man, fast, quick and strong with his feet. The other man, fast, quick and strong with his hands.”

  Crouched low, Ali feinted with jabs and danced. The familiar chant of “Ali! Ali! Ali!” rekindled when a group of women made their presence known. Ali danced and moved, finding life in the rhythmic chanting of his name. The arena sensed this. Ali moved back and to his left while Inoki remained stationary in the center of the ring. Ali traced the ropes like hands on a clock, prompting Inoki to hop to his right to cut off the boxer’s path.

  Ali “is trying to get Inoki to follow him so that he can get him into hitting range,” noted Bannister. No luck. Inoki plowed forward with a hard leg kick that knocked Ali off kilter and sent him tumbling towards his corner. The crowd roared as Dundee, Pacheco, Brown, and others watched in silence while their man struggled in unfamiliar territory. Ali slid to the ropes, felt another kick coming but couldn’t scurry out of the way. It slammed into the rear of his left leg, connecting more to the hamstring than quadriceps. Ali stumbled once more and Budokan Hall reacted as if that one must have hurt.

  “Inoki is sticking to the Japanese principle: Wait for his best chance,” surmised Bannister. “Inoki has kept his head out of range from Muhammad Ali for the entire match.”

  Despite the repeated attacks, Ali danced to the bell. He danced after the bell, too, then strolled to his corner upset at what was unfolding.

  ROUND 10

  Ali’s corner massaged and iced their man’s screaming thigh. Everyone knew what was coming and Inoki initiated more of the same at the start of the tenth.

  Then Ali popped off a stiff jab and quickly moved away.

  “Oh, Inoki was hit!” cheered Bannister. “A good smash by Ali.”

  Lisker confirmed: “A good smash to the mouth.”

  Inoki froze for a brief moment. This is what Ali felt he could accomplish against a wrestler. Dance. Pop off a jab or a right cross. Use his speed to exit. It had not, to this point, happened often enough to make a difference in the fight. Moving to the left meant exposing his front leg to more hits, which Inoki took advantage of as he dug in a hard one a few feet from Karl Gotch. Ali made off as if he didn’t feel it, shook his head, and waved Inoki towards him. As Inoki rose to his feet, Ali, again, shook his head.

  “Now the fans are yelling to Inoki, ‘Be fair. Fight on your feet,’” Bannister indicated. “So the fans here in Tokyo want to see a good fight.”

  Perhaps Inoki had not heard them. Perhaps he didn’t care. Perhaps no one in Tokyo other than Ali’s minions wanted the Japanese fighter to stand in front of the best heavyweight boxer on the planet. So Inoki lunged in, landed low to the left thigh, scooted forward and kicked to the inside of Ali’s same leg. Swollen, lumped up, and only getting worse, Ali was knocked around. He wrapped his right arm over the top rope to regain sure footing and Inoki picked this moment to surge forward. Finally, the rassler wanted to grapple. Ali launched a sneaky left hook underneath Inoki’s right arm that just missed, and since the boxer was tangled in the ropes it was, beyond charging up the crowd, a useless takedown effort. Gotch reached up to touch Ali’s gloved right hand, as if to gently shoo away a fly.

  There were brief respites from the monotony of Inoki’s leg attack, and this ranked among the notable ones. The round ended as Inoki walked the boxer into a corner and scored again. Ali appeared to be bored by the whole thing. From the crowd came a demand: “Inoki you sissy, get up off the floor!” Someone, presumably Ali or LeBell, would need to make him, and that seemed highly unlikely through the thirty-minute mark.

  Dundee closely inspected Ali’s left leg as he rubbed it down with ice and a salve before passing off that duty to Pacheco. “Bundini” Brown, meanwhile, gingerly took a sponge to Ali’s right leg, which was far less damaged but had felt the brunt of Inoki’s kicks as well.

  “There are a lot of worried faces in that corner,” Lisker pointed out.

  ROUND 11

  The swelling around Ali’s left thigh was as severe as it would get, so much so that he finally attempted more than simply sidestepping Inoki’s kicks or relying on the ropes for an escape.

  A thudding strike from Inoki was partially blocked when Ali dropped his left hand into its path. The tactic, a suggestion in the corner from Ali’s taekwondo instructor Jhoon Rhee, didn’t come without its own dangers. “I didn’t say anything before that because I didn’t know what to expect,” Rhee said. “I wanted to see how they fight and then I’d give them advice. My advice was to block.” Saving his bursting blood vessels from painful leg kicks meant exposing his hand, wrist, and elbow to the full force of a heavy boot.

  “When Inoki was throwing kicks, Jhoon Rhee said, ‘Block them like you’d block a punch,’” remembered Gene Kilroy. “So Ali started putting his elbow and hand down.”

  The self-defense technique also allowed Ali a chance to grab and twist Inoki’s foot nearly 180 degrees. By itself the move accomplished nothing, and it was clear that Ali wasn’t aware that for twisting leg locks to work the knee had to be isolated so pressure on the joints wouldn’t be released.

  A camera zoomed in tight to Ali’s left thigh, which appeared lumped, scratched, and bloody. Inoki slammed another unblocked kick into Ali, who flinched and didn’t commit to blocking. The tally was running high and Bannister noted discoloration in Ali’s leg. Next time he did get his hand in the path of the kick, and Ali was pleased that it worked. Like a golfer taking practice swings, he mimicked the move while Inoki scooted towards him. Ali decided against blocking the next time, throwing a swift counter jab instead that missed. For the price of a counter attack, Ali felt the full impact of Inoki’s boot.

  That was it for Round 11. Pacheco, Dundee, and Brown attempted to soothe Ali’s left leg as best they could, immediately applying ice to the raised, damaged skin.

  Jerry Lisker picked up on a conversation in Inoki’s corner. Karl Gotch, who was as frustrated as anyone that the match had not concluded on the mat yet, told Inoki “to go in for the kill,” Lisker said. “He feels Muhammad’s legs can’t stand the battering anymore and if he can get him down this round with a kick, with a crescent kick, and stay on top of him then he can finish it this round.”

  Inoki nodded.

  ROUND 12

  “I saw Inoki, and K
arl Gotch was in his corner, and Karl said, ‘Tackle him and take him down and it’s in your backyard,’ ” LeBell remembered. “Ali’s corner said to knock him out.”

  Ali deflected the first kick, posed, and practiced the downward block. He followed with another strong chop that intersected an Inoki kick. The boxer’s confidence was brewing. “That’s right!” yelled a member of the champ’s camp. “That’s right!” Ali backed away and blocked the next one as Inoki rushed at him—perfect defense. Ali quickly became cocky, as if he’d discovered a secret and everything would work itself out in his favor.

  After Ali waved Inoki forward, the wrestler altered his rhythm and fired off a kick that connected. Ali had mistimed the deflection. “You can see these kicks are hurting Muhammad Ali just a little bit,” Bannister noted. “You can see his facial expressions when the kick is coming.” Inoki walked towards Ali giving the boxer hope that the wrestler might stand in front of him for a moment and provide a window to punch. “Come on,” mouthed Ali. “Come on.” The boxer’s left arm hung low just off his thigh, and he blocked down as Inoki attacked. The defense worked and Ali was pleased with himself. Again he practiced the motion, but this time Inoki switched it up and scored to the inside of Ali’s left leg.

  From a standing position, Inoki connected on a rare shin-to-thigh kick, drawing immediate objections from Ali’s corner. “Hey, hey, hey!” someone yelled. “He’s standing on his feet. No kicking!” Bannister noted that according to the rules, Inoki was barred from doing this. But if Inoki was going to anyhow, Dundee realized right away that it opened him up to getting countered so he called for Ali to throw a right hand over the top. Inoki refused to give him the chance and dove in low, as he had most of the contest. The hard kick was blocked, Inoki butt-scooted towards Ali, and the boxer waved at him.

  As the round came to its conclusion, Ali stood straight and square to Inoki, put his gloves on his hips, and moved his mouth while shaking his head side to side, like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Beyond that, neither fighter acknowledged the other as they headed back to their corners sans the finish Gotch hoped for.

  Ali’s early talking had quieted down, and his left leg appeared to be double the size of his right.

  “Inoki is landing some very hard shots,” Bannister said. “This has to hurt Muhammad Ali some. I know they’re totally concerned about this because once any fighter, or any athlete, loses the use and flexibility of his legs he slows down quite a bit. Ali cannot afford an injury, a mysterious injury, at this point in his career.”

  ROUND 13

  Inoki established himself as the aggressor off the top of Round 13, taking the center of the ring while Ali hung tight in his corner. Angelo Dundee and “Bundini” Brown stood on the apron until Ali finally strolled to his right. Ali travelled to a neutral corner, and Inoki assumed a low stance.

  Rather than doing what he’d done all night, Inoki just sort of rushed forward and grabbed hold of Ali. It would be wrong to call this a takedown attempt in any real sense of the word. Inoki’s technique was terrible and Ali was already against the ropes, so there wasn’t much to be accomplished as LeBell rushed in to separate them. The de-clinching didn’t happen right away. Ali turned his head towards the crowd, amused, and stuck out his tongue. Pushing Ali’s left hand away, Inoki backed out slowly, like he had managed to navigate and exit a maze.

  Ali leaned forward, touched his left elbow with his right glove, and made it clear that he was prepared to block Inoki’s next kick. He wouldn’t have to, as the Japanese wrestler swung and missed. Herbert Muhammad began yelling from the corner. Dundee rested his elbows against the apron, pensively gripping his hands together. The rest of the team shared a mix of concern and irritation that they even had to be in this position.

  Then, again, this time from the center of the ring, Inoki faked a kick and charged at Ali, clasping his hands around the boxer’s waist as if he was ready to toss the champ Greco-Roman style. Ali adeptly backpedalled near Inoki’s corner and wrapped his right arm around the top rope while his left covered the wrestler’s neck.

  “Inoki tries to take him out with another body slam and Ali holds onto the ropes,” Bannister shouted into his microphone. “The referee is trying to break them apart.”

  For the first time since before the opening bell, when both camps met in the center of the ring for LeBell’s instructions, Ali and Gotch made eye contact. The boxer raised his right fist like he might strike down at Gotch, which certainly would have made things more interesting.

  “It’s a fair break,” said LeBell.

  In boxing, a clinch often results in the bigger man putting his weight on the smaller man. Over the course of several rounds, this can be an effective strategy because it’s incredibly taxing. Ali had few occasions to work inside the clinch with Inoki, but this time he decided to lean onto the neck of Inoki, who was hardly pleased, and responded with an illegal knee to the groin. Like the elbow in Round 6, it was blatantly illegal. Since knees and groin strikes were prohibited, LeBell gave Inoki a long look as Ali walked to his corner and pointed low. LeBell called time and spoke to Inoki about the cheap shot. Dundee was livid, wagging his finger at Inoki. Brown was also worked up. Ali, meanwhile, relaxed among his cornermen, that damaged leg propped up on the bottom rope. He shook his head at the sudden foul play.

  “He kicked below the belt, to the groin!” Brown howled as LeBell walked towards the Ali corner. “He kicked to the groin! He kicked to the groin!”

  Ali had his own thoughts, telling LeBell the low blow was “bullshit, motherfucker. That’s horrible.”

  All the referee could do—or all he decided to do—was ask if Ali could continue. The fighter looked incredulous and ducked under the ropes, making it seem like he was done for the night. The crowd screamed. “Ali is gonna leave the ring,” Bannister said. “Ali refuses to keep fighting with the action going the way it is.” Jerry Lisker said Ali wanted assurances he would not be kneed in the groin again, as if such a thing were possible.

  LeBell then pulled Ali back into the ring: “Get back in here,” said the stuntman, “I’ve got money on you.” It was a joke and Ali didn’t laugh. Dundee and Brown sat as Pacheco talked to them. Gotch stood on the ring apron, waiting just in case all hell broke loose and he would get to twist someone into a knot.

  Soon the fighters met in the center of the ring, and Inoki rekindled the action by offering a standing low kick that Ali blocked. The boxer, still angry, popped off a glancing jab. Then he tossed out a better one, which got the crowd going. Inoki flopped to the ground on a missed low kick, and scooted towards the champ as the bell closed a wild three minutes.

  Ali immediately targeted LeBell, who walked over to the other officials and deducted a point from Inoki.

  “Low blow,” he yelled. “One point. Down.”

  Ali’s team—the boxing folks plus Freddie Blassie and Jhoon Rhee—closed ranks around their man. Inoki and his crew, especially Gotch, stared in Ali’s direction.

  ROUND 14

  Though the damage to his leg was severe, it didn’t prevent Ali from moving on his toes at the start of the penultimate round. Half-hearted jabs, or rather the hint of jabs, came from Inoki before he dropped levels, kicked, and fell to the floor. Ali acted as if he didn’t feel the strike and reiterated that by patting his left thigh with his left glove, waving “no” with his right glove, and shaking his head to the effect of “nah.” The swelling in Ali’s left leg moved from his thigh to above and below his knee; meanwhile, those jabs that Ali had tossed out in the thirteenth round prompted a bit of swelling around Inoki’s left eye.

  Ali hadn’t thrown his right hand all night, yet a call came from his corner to toss one out. He wouldn’t. Instead, after a couple of missed kicks by Inoki the boxer moved to the ropes, prompting the wrestler to complain. Pointing to the ropes then the floor, Inoki communicated with LeBell. Ali stood straight up, mocking Inoki by pointing to the floor as well.

  “I’m the boxer,” Ali said, suggestin
g that he was free to do as he pleased along the ropes.

  “Yeah, tell ’em,” Brown chimed in. “You tell ’em.”

  Inoki’s late frustration was odd considering the opportunities he didn’t make for himself or capitalize on, but nonetheless the Japanese fighter stood and gestured with his hands before pointing to the ground. Ali, wide-eyed, hands low, was quick to respond. “You lay down,” he said before squaring up and letting out a yell that made “Bundini” Brown hop up and down in the corner. Both men postured, asking the other to go where they did not want.

  “Lots of people would have thought that Inoki would have thrown Ali out of the ring by now,” Bannister said.

  At that moment Ali snapped off a stiff jab, and the second-to-last round came to an end.

  “That was an excellent left smash,” Lisker said, “the best punch that Ali’s thrown all night . . . and it took a little of the starch out of Inoki. Evidently Ali is believing that Inoki is going to abandon all caution, get up off his back, and try to go wrestle and fight and throw Ali out of the ring. This is what Ali wants him to do. To fight on his feet where Ali can hit him.”

  Said Bannister: “And the crowd is also hollering, Jerry. ‘Inoki, fight like a man. Inoki, don’t be cheap.’ So they’re saying they don’t want Inoki to cheat them. I still see they’re working on Muhammad Ali’s leg. There’s lots of swelling in that left knee there. They’ve put ice packs on it ever since the second round, and it’s continued to swell. So this is the fifteenth and final round.”

  ROUND 15

  Sportsmen that they were, Ali and Inoki walked to the center and exchanged a handshake before the bell for Round 15. The crowd, still waiting for that magical moment, roared in anticipation that something, anything, might happen. Then Inoki lunged in with a low kick to Ali’s thigh. Ali didn’t react outside of reminding Inoki that this was it.