It was the season for reruns. Last fall in Chicago, it took Charles ("Sonny") Liston 2 min. 6 sec. to pluck the heavyweight crown from Floyd Patterson. Last week in Las Vegas, Liston spent 2 min. 10 sec. pounding Patterson into boxing oblivion. Like a man killing a rabbit with a stick, he clubbed the hapless challenger to the canvas—gracelessly and methodically, his sulphur-and-obsidian eyes betraying neither pleasure nor anger. "It was just something I had to do," grunted Sonny, whose mind was obviously on something else.
That something else was Cassius...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In