Thirty years ago this very day took place what some sages nominate as the greatest single happening in the whole history of sports. Which I reckon is stretching it a bit. Just consider a few hundred other back-page occurrences — from Genesis Kid Cain v. Sugar Boy Abel to, well, last week’s Boston Red Sox resurrection which turned 0–3 to 4–3 in the Yankee Stadium. Nevertheless, it sure was some showstopper on 30 October 1974 when big, bad ‘unbeatable’ boxer George Foreman was rumbled in the jungle by Muhammad Ali.
Where were you that dead of night when London closed down for a witching hour — to watch the epic live with me at the Dominion cinema, Tottenham Court Road? And after the cataclysmic curtain call the lights came up and, I swear, the throng of dockers and bankers, peers of the realm and taxi-drivers, crooks and celebs, surgeons from next-door Harley Street and pimps and prostitutes from down the way in Soho all stood and embraced, and wiped their eyes in the wonder of it — as red-hot favourite Foreman’s vast frame lay flat on the canvas in the old kingdom of Congo and Ali crowed above him, ‘I always said I was the greatest, not the smartest.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in