Few rivalries in boxing history have ignited such debate as the two encounters between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston. Their contests in 1964 and 1965 remain cornerstones of heavyweight lore—celebrated, scrutinised, and endlessly questioned.

When the brash young Cassius Clay—yet to take the name Muhammad Ali—challenged the fearsome Liston in Miami on 25 February 1964, few gave him a chance. Liston, known as the “Big Bear”, had demolished Floyd Patterson in back-to-back first-round knockouts. The bookmakers saw Clay as a rank outsider, pricing him at 8–1.

Yet what unfolded was one of sport’s great shocks. Clay danced, taunted, and peppered the champion with stinging shots until Liston, frustrated and battered, refused to rise for the seventh round. The new king declared himself “the greatest”, and the world of boxing would never be the same again.

But the rematch, held in Lewiston, Maine, on 25 May 1965, is the bout etched deepest into controversy. Forced out of Boston amid legal wrangling, the fight landed in a small hockey rink in a town of just over 40,000 residents—the smallest city ever to host a heavyweight title fight in the modern era.

From the opening bell, Ali circled, light on his feet, while Liston stalked forward with his trademark jab. Then, midway through the first round, Ali unleashed a short right hand. Liston tumbled backwards, sprawling on the canvas. Many ringside swore they never even saw the punch. Others insisted it barely grazed him.

What followed was chaos. Ali hovered over the fallen challenger, shouting for him to rise, while referee Jersey Joe Walcott struggled to restore order. The count was mishandled; the timekeeper claimed Liston had been down for the full ten, but Walcott never relayed it properly. Liston staggered up, appeared ready to continue, and then, to the bewilderment of all present, the fight was waved off. Officially, Ali had won by knockout at one minute of the opening round, though the actual timing did not match events in the ring.

The so-called “phantom punch” became one of the most disputed moments in sport. Some ringside journalists swore they saw a clean shot that snapped Liston’s head. Others branded it a fix, fuelled by rumours of underworld involvement, debts, and intimidation. Ali himself later admitted he was unsure whether the blow had truly connected with full force.

Regardless of the speculation, the image of Ali standing over Liston, fists cocked, shouting for his rival to rise, remains one of the most iconic photographs in boxing history. These two bouts not only redefined the heavyweight division but also cemented Ali as both a sporting phenomenon and a cultural lightning rod.