The Fantasy Fight Division of ProBoxing-Fans.com is pleased and proud to present a battle for the Heavyweight Championship of the World: Ingemar Johansson vs. Sonny Liston.
Yes, we all know that Floyd Patterson lost his crown to Ingemar Johansson in 1959, won it back the following year, only to have Sonny Liston take it from him in 1962. But what if Patterson had not become the first heavyweight to regain his title? If Johansson had remained champion, he would certainly have faced the swarmingest, hardest-hitting heavy since Rocky Marciano: The Big Bear, Sonny Liston.
Ingemar Johansson
Ingo (26-2-0, 17 KOs) had his first professional fight in 1952. He won the European heavyweight championship in 1956 by knocking out Franco Cavicchi in the 13th. He retained his title by defeating Henry Cooper in 1957 by fifth-round KO, and by stopping Joe Erskine by 13th-round TKO in 1958. His first-round knockout of Eddie Machen several months after his defeat of Erskine ensured Johansson a shot at Patterson’s crown, which he took from him by third-round TKO at Yankee Stadium on June 26, 1959.
Sonny Liston
Liston (50-4-0, 39 KOs) had his pro debut in 1953. Over the course of the next 11 years, he won 35 of 36 bouts, 25 by KO or TKO. His only loss over that period was in 1954 when Marty Marshall won by split decision after breaking Liston’s jaw in the fourth. Liston got even and then some by defeating Marshall twice thereafter, in 1955 and 1956. Liston also scored victories over several worthier opponents. He beat Cleveland Williams twice, in 1959 by third-round TKO and in 1960 by second-round TKO; Zora Folley, also in 1960, by a kayo in the third; and Machen in the same year by unanimous decision.
The Fight: Liston vs. Johansson
It’s the first round, and Liston pours out of his corner like a Bulldog at supper. Johansson is taken aback by his opponent’s speed and aggressiveness, but manages to cover up as Liston wallops him with shots to the arms and body. The Bear pulls back his left too low, and Ingo unleashes his “Hammer of Thor”, among the most devastating rights in the history of the division.
“It’s a gift from the gods,” says Johansson. “It is mystic and moves faster than the eye can see. I do not tell it when to go. Suddenly boom! It lands like toonda.” It sure as hell landed on Liston, catching him under the eye and turning his tree-trunk legs to quivering jelly. In the beat of a heart, the Swede throws a left hook that catches Liston flush on the jaw.
He hits the canvas hard, so hard that a buxom blonde in a low-cut evening gown swoons like a schoolgirl. But they don’t call him the Bear because he likes honey. He’s up before the ref counts three. Clapping his gloves together, he growls “Let’s go” through his mouthguard. But there’s the bell.
In the second round, Liston both circles and cuts off the ring. His jabs do no more than distract, but that’s enough. He pivots suddenly and throws a left hook. Johansson blocks it with his arm, but the blow catches him at the elbow joint. “Gud!”, grunts the Swede, knowing that his powerful right is out for the duration. He zings out a left, but it’s mistimed and only grazes Liston’s ear. The would-be champ sends out a straight right that catches Johansson on the upper lip. Thrown on the ropes, he bounces off and dives face first to the mat. Bracing himself on his fists, Johansson takes the eight. The ref takes a close look, but Ingo nods that he’s all right. There’s not much time left in the round, and Johansson keeps his prowling opponent at bay with sharp left jabs.
Johansson is relieved to take a seat while his cornermen cluck like hens. A tendon or ligament at the right elbow is at least bruised, and the arm is well-nigh useless. Maybe the ref ought to have stopped the fight after the knockdown in the second. Should we throw in the towel? No shame in that. No shame at all, not with one arm gone. Ingo will have none of it. This is a championship bout. Besides, he has a plan. Or is it a prayer?
Betting that Liston isn’t fully aware of how badly he’s hurt, Johansson cocks his right. The Bear brings up his left forearm. Ah, there, the right corner of his mouth is exposed. The Swede throws a straight left that loosens a tooth. Growling, Liston clutches Johansson’s right arm, holding fast at the elbow between his own arm and side. Ingo groans. The ref breaks the clinch, but the damage is done. Pain courses though the champ’s veins like fever.
Liston sets himself and launches a right as though by a catapult. Johansson does an awkward little dance step, and then once again falls flat on his face. He lies there as still and quiet as freshly fallen snow. The hell with the count. The ref waves his arms before nice-and-easy turning the fallen champ on his back. The ring explodes with camera flashes as cornermen, officials, cops, and a doctor in a double-breasted suit and vest, black bag in one hand fedora in the other, pour themselves between the ropes.
It will be some time before Ingo wakes up. When he does, the first thing he’ll see is the new Heavyweight Champion of the World grinning down at him, a hand the size of a Christmas ham gentle on his shoulder.
Sonny Liston by third-round KO
