Overhyped mismatch that turned into a farce
Ahead of their supposed $1bn clash, McGregor and Mayweather should heed warning of Muhammad Ali’s bizarre fight with a Japanese wrestler called The Pelican
FLOYD MAYWEATHER has long decreed himself the greatest fighter of all time, so it is fitting that the latest chapter of his career follows in the footsteps of the man usually given that accolade. Mayweather’s mega-money showdown with UFC fighter Conor McGregor next weekend may seem like a circus act, but it is not the first time a boxer has fought someone from another discipline.
More than 40 years ago it was Muhammad Ali who fired the first salvo in the great debate over whether a boxer could overcome a wrestler when he fought Japanese grappler Antonio Inoki.
The surreal encounter has been largely forgotten — and for good reason — with the contest leaving those present at Tokyo’s Nippon Budokan arena on June 26, 1976 convinced the question should remain hypothetical.
While Mayweather-McGregor is a boxing match and therefore slants the odds hugely in Mayweather’s favour, Ali’s fight with Inoki mixed rules from both disciplines. No one, not even the two fighters, really knew what to expect, partly because the rules were being debated right up to the day of the fight, which was promoted as ‘the martial arts championship of the world’.
Fans and journalists speculated whether it would be a scripted show or a real fight. In the build-up, Ali insisted it was on the level. ‘I wouldn’t pull a fraud on the public,’ he said. ‘This is real. There’s no plan. The blood, the holds, the pain — everything is going to be real.’
That Ali, then 34, agreed to such a contest while still heavyweight champion was all the more remarkable. Just nine months earlier he had defeated Joe Frazier in the brutal ‘Thrilla in Manila’. When he travelled to Tokyo to take on Inoki, he was fresh from a worldtitle defence against Britain’s Richard Dunn and was due to fight Ken Norton that September.
Ali’s trainer Angelo Dundee was vehemently opposed to the fight, as was his long-time doctor Ferdie Pacheco. There was concern that Inoki could get Ali in a lock and break his arm or worse. ‘Fighting Inoki was an incredibly stupid act,’ Pacheco would say years later. ‘It put his entire career in jeopardy for some dollars he could have made just as easily without risking his reputation and health.’
Nonetheless, Ali insisted on going ahead. He was to receive $6million [worth about £20m now], though how much he was actually paid has since been disputed.
Ali dominated the promotional events while Inoki, who Ali dubbed ‘The Pelican’ due to his large chin, seemed shy. ‘I can’t lose to an old fat-bellied wrestler,’ said Ali. ‘I’ll destroy Inoki.’ A script had indeed been devised that would create an entertaining spectacle and ensure no injuries to either man.
‘The scenario was set,’ promoter Bob Arum told boxing writer Thomas Hauser. ‘Ali would pound on Inoki for six or seven rounds. Inoki would be pouring blood. Apparently he was going to cut himself with a razor blade. Ali would appeal to the referee to stop the fight, and when he was in the middle of this humanitarian gesture, Inoki would jump him from behind and pin him. Pearl Harbour all over again.’
In Arum’s version of events, Ali got cold feet, believing it was wrong to dupe the public. In another telling, Ali began to suspect the fight was for real after witnessing the intensity of Inoki’s training. He subsequently visited his opponent for a rehearsal, only for Inoki to tell him: ‘This isn’t an exhibition, it’s a real fight!’ Ali and Inoki’s representatives spent three days trying to thrash out the rules of the contest, only to modify them to such an extent that Inoki was hamstrung. The wrestler was prohibited from throwing, grappling, tackling or kicking above the knee. And any kicks would have to be executed with one knee on the canvas.
A farce was inevitable. From the opening bell, Inoki charged at Ali, throwing himself to the ground in an effort to land a kick. That first exchange would be repeated ad nauseam for 15 rounds: Inoki sliding around on his back, kicking desperately at Ali’s legs; Ali, on his feet, imploring his opponent to fight him properly.
Ali did his best to inject some razzmatazz into the drab affair. He goaded his grounded opponent, stuck his tongue out, played up to the crowd, shook his hips and even feigned being restrained by the referee at the end of rounds.
It was no good. Ali’s punch output across the 15 rounds barely reached double figures and he landed only four, all to Inoki’s head. But he had absorbed dozens of kicks to his legs and nearly one to the head when Inoki broke the rules.
In round four, Inoki even had Ali cornered and landed a flurry of powerful kicks, with the American forced to climb on to the ropes to escape. The Japanese successfully swept Ali’s legs from under him at the start of the fifth, to rare applause from the crowd, and had Ali on the floor again in the sixth, only for the referee to intervene and allow Ali back to his feet. It was turgid stuff and Arum would later quip: ‘Any moron knew it wasn’t fixed, because a fixed fight wouldn’t have been that awful.’
At the end, the referee declared a draw, much to the displeasure of the locals, who hurled food wrappers at the ring and booed loudly. An embarrassed Ali said: ‘I wouldn’t have done this if I’d known he was gonna fight like that.’
But he had more pressing concerns. He had ruptured blood vessels and blood clots in his legs. A concerned Pacheco warned Ali: ‘If any of those clots get loose and go up into your head, you’re dead.’
Pacheco believed Ali was never the same again. Though Ali would defeat Norton in September of that year, he would never knock out another opponent.
No such risks await Mayweather but if the past is prologue to the present then perhaps the warning from Ali-Inoki is that no one should set their expectations too high in Las Vegas next Saturday.