58 Henry Cooper v Cassius Clay

Half a century ago it was not only gnarled old boxing fans but also English gentlewomen who cherished Our ‘Enery’s ‘Ammer.

Fifty years ago on Tuesday, when Henry Cooper threw the granddaddy of all his mighty left hooks, it was variously described as the punch which shocked the world, the punch which almost changed history, the punch which shut the loudest mouth in the universe.

More accurately, it was the punch which made the whole world hold its breath.
As Cassius Clay was lolling on his backside in a north London suburb, gasping for air, millions in this country, across the Atlantic and around the planet did not dare exhale. Women and children numerous among them.
Clay heard, as well as felt, the wake-up call.

His lightning fists opened and widened cuts, most woundingly on those prominent English eyebrows, as the fateful fifth unfolded. The prophecy was fulfilled.

As the blood ran rivers down his face, rendering him half blind as it flowed, Cooper had no objections to the inevitable stoppage. But he did say: ‘I think that young man developed quite a respect for me in these five rounds.’

Clay put it more picturesquely: ‘That punch was felt by my ancestors in Africa.’

The breathless population of this country emitted a collective sigh of sympathy for a national treasure.

History remained on course.

The world, in some quarters reluctantly, made ready to welcome The Greatest.