MUHAMMAD ALI is so revered as a boxer and a sportsman that it is regarded as sacrilegious to question two of his finest feats, his victories over Sonny Liston. However, what is important 40 years on is to re-examine the evidence as dispassionately as possible, to set aside for a moment the conviction held by many people, with much justification, that Ali was the greatest sportsman of the past century.

Liston was overwhelming favourite for the first bout and still favourite for the second. Favourites have often lost, but what was unusual here is that there was more than a whiff of suspicion about both contests. Neither bout was really satisfactory at the time, let alone in retrospect.

Boxing is a relatively easy sport to fix. It needs the co- operation of only one other party, and that person can simulate being outboxed, injured and even knocked down by a punch, the force of which only the recipient and, to a certain extent, the deliverer really knows.

Of course, Ali’s unconventional style, wonderful athleticism and immense self-belief may have unsettled Liston, who relied heavily upon intimidation, which did not work on the younger man. The style of Ali, the way in which he moved away from opponents and then used his speed and judgment of distances to dart within striking range to unleash punches, probably did not suit the ponderous moves of Liston, who preferred more static opponents.

However, that is not the point. More significant is that there were many important people who needed Ali to win, including the boxing establishment, because Liston’s background made him an unsavoury person to have as world heavyweight champion.

There were the Black Muslims, who needed a figurehead and had the influence and money to ensure that Ali won. Did they perhaps pay the Mafia to ensure that Liston lost and maybe give Frank Carbo and Frankie Palermo, the mobsters who were, to all intents and purposes, Liston’s managers, a cut in Ali’s future winnings, plus the opportunity to make a killing on the betting? Certainly the Mafia, who controlled Liston’s career, could have made more out of their man losing, since he was approaching the end of his time in the ring, rather than if he won. This may be all supposition, but it is still unsettling.

The central thesis of Night Train, the definitive biography of Liston, written by Nick Tosches, is that Ali was allowed to win both bouts. He does not know why this was done, but he assembled some damning evidence.

Inter-Continental Promotions, of which Liston was a partner, had spent £27,500 in October 1963 on buying the rights to promote Ali’s next contest after his first meeting with Liston. For those days, this was a very large sum. It was found strange by the investigating State Attorney-General in Florida, unless “he (Liston) or his managers knew the outcome of the fight (against Ali) in advance”.

In addition, there was a rush of betting on Ali in the hours before the first bout, which seems to indicate that someone knew something. There are also the remarks by Liston that seem to indicate it was fixed. “I did what they told me to do,” he said to his uncle on the phone after the contest.

Although the official investigation into the first bout cleared Liston, there was immense trouble in getting a venue for the return. Most states and cities would not stage it because of the rumours. It finally went ahead in the small town of Lewiston, Maine, in a school ice hockey stadium, because that was the best available. It was not exactly the centre of the boxing world.

What happened there reinforces the belief that the first bout was fixed. Liston, who had been knocked down only once in his life before — and then by someone whom he promptly destroyed — was dumped by Ali with what was called “the phantom punch”. In boxing, when you hit someone, you know whether it has been hard enough to knock him down. Ali knew.

Look at his face in the picture of him leaning towards Liston, his right arm across his chest. He seems to know that he has not hurt Liston and seems to be urging Liston to get up. And when he does not, the crowd shouts, “Fix, Fix, Fix”.