Sept. 14, 1964 - Muhammad Ali signed a contract today with Sonny Liston to defend his heavyweight title on Nov. 16 at the Boston Garden and was immediately stripped of the title by the World Boxing Association, which had forbidden the bout.
The 22-year-old champion spoke wearily through a heavy chest cold at a signing ceremony at the Logan International Airport Motel. He refused to be drawn into either political discussion or repartee with a relaxed and amiable Liston.
“Ahmed Mali, Mamud Wally, who’s that?” taunted Liston, a few chairs away from the champion at a long conference table. “I met him as Cassius Clay, and I’ll leave him as Cassius Clay.”
The champion shook his head and said: “He just don’t understand.”
Both Cassius M. Clay Jr. and Muhammad Ali, the name bestowed upon the champion by the Nation of Islam, appeared on the title contract. The fight will be promoted by Inter-Continental Promotions Inc., and Sam Silverman, a local promoter.
Before the signing, Liston sat in his hotel suite and nibbled at some old bones of contention. He said he still felt Ali could not fight, that he lost the title last February in Miami only because of the injury to his left shoulder.
Why had he thrown that left so many times before abruptly quitting before the seventh round?
“You’re out walking, and your feet start hurting,” said Liston. “You’re not going to stop walking even though it hurts real bad. You wait until you get home and can lie down.”
Ali, who kept patiently reminding his interviewers that he was not to be called Cassius, spoke dully and softly at the signing ceremony. Even his good lines were spoken methodically, like an actor who has performed too long in a play that no longer excites him.
He spoke of Doug Jones, a leading heavyweight contender (“He was good meat, but he got beat”); of a possible fight with Floyd Patterson (“That would be a money fight, and we all love money”); and of his old ebullient, I-am-the-greatest routines (“That was campaigning, it wasn’t really me”).
He laughed only once in almost two hours, when Drew (Bundini) Brown, his assistant trainer, leaned over his shoulder and whispered, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, rumble, young man, rumble.”
The refrain had become a kind of battle cry between the last fight and Ali’s subsequent involvement with theology, politics, international travel, and marriage.
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