A Look Back At Charles L. ‘Sonny’ Liston On His Birthday

Liston rose from humble beginnings to become one of the greatest heavyweights of all time, building his reputation through pure frightening intimidation, vicious and swift knockouts, with fists harder than bricks. At 15 inches, Liston had the largest fists in heavyweight history, so large he had to have custom-made gloves. Liston used his ramrod jab behind his 84-inch reach to pressure his opponents.

Physically, he was immensely strong, a natural puncher, and had a rock-solid chin. He could slip and slide, cut off the ring, and bang with both hands. Liston had “that felling left and that slaughterhouse right,” as biographer Nick Tosches described. However, Liston could also box. He wasn’t just a hard-hitting monster. Liston was a born fighter. He could keep the pressure on without getting wild and careless.

His menacing stare during the pre-fight head-to-head in the middle of the ring would have opponents quaking in their boots, seriously questioning their presence in the ring with this mean, hard-hitting force. “Liston does not merely defeat his opponents,” Jonathan Eig wrote of the fighter. “He breaks them, shames them, haunts them, leaving them flinching from his punches in their dreams.”

The 24th of 25 children, born into a large and poverty-stricken sharecropping family in Arkansas, Charles “Sonny” Liston’s precise date of birth remains unknown, as does the exact date of his death. “We grew up like heathens,” Sonny said. “When I was a kid, I had nothing but a lot of brothers and sisters, a helpless mother, and a father who didn’t care about a single one of us.” Liston was savagely beaten consistently by his father, Tobe, while growing up, with permanent scars on his back to show. Sonny once said: ‘The only thing my old man ever gave me was a beating.’ 

Sonny was always on the wrong side of the law throughout his life, and once sentenced on June 1, 1950, to five years in the Missouri State Penitentiary, a ring legend was produced. Despite being a merciless criminal and illiterate, Liston met two men who changed his life: the prison’s athletic director, Catholic priest Father Edward Schlattmann, and his successor, Reverend Alois Stevens. Liston was released from prison on parole after two years, but during these two years, he was introduced to boxing, which was a blessing in disguise.

Reverend Stevens told Sports Illustrated: “He was the most perfect specimen of manhood I had ever seen. Powerful arms, big shoulders. Pretty soon, he was knocking out everybody in the gym. His hands were so large! I couldn’t believe it. They always had trouble with his gloves, trouble getting them on when his hands were wrapped.”

Upon Liston’s early release from prison on October 31, 1952, due to his commitments to boxing in prison, the organized crime bosses, still big players in the boxing world, took a keen interest in the ex-con heavyweight. Liston hooked up with mobster John Vitale, who became his manager. Liston’s employment went beyond boxing. He was used as a debt collector and mob enforcer. Once Liston’s professional career was in full flow, history was created, and a blaze of destruction was left behind.

During a three-year spell between 1959 and 1962, Liston blitzed through all the heavyweight contenders to get a crack at the champion, Patterson, then became the first man to become a world heavyweight champion via a first-round knockout. No man had ever knocked out another heavyweight champion in the first round twice, which Liston accomplished in the rematch.

At this point, it appeared like no human on the planet could stand up to Liston. At this stage, Liston was a truly magnificent and devastating fighter, one of the greatest heavyweights of all time. He was regarded as the greatest heavyweight since Joe Louis. Some boxing insiders even thought of him as greater than Louis and the greatest of them all.

In the early ’60s, Liston was to boxing what Mike Tyson was in the late ’80s. Opponents were often terrified and had lost the fight before a single punch had been thrown against him. Tyson’s aura brought him the worldwide moniker of “The Baddest Man on The Planet.” However, Liston was the Original Baddest Man on The Planet, the pioneer of this aura and Tyson’s idol. George Foreman and Tyson definitely used the art of intimidation, but Liston was the actual originator. There were no real attempts by Liston to be intimidating. It was simply in his nature.

Ali faced some formidable hitters during his career, the likes of Joe Frazier, Foreman, Ron Lyle, and Earnie Shavers. Yet, he said the following about Liston: “Of all the men I fought in boxing, Sonny Liston was the scariest.” Foreman once said: “Sonny Liston was the first role model I had. No doubt the scariest human being I’ve met in the ring, the only man to make me back up consistently.”

Shortly after Liston’s back-to-back demolitions of Patterson, a 22-year-old, soon to be known as ‘The Louisville Lip,’ harassed Liston for a title shot. Cassius Clay had won Olympic gold as a light heavyweight at the 1960 Olympics in Rome, finished his amateur career with a record of 100-5, and was 19-0 as a professional. However, Clay was no stranger to touching the canvas. In fact, a left hook from Henry Cooper had floored Clay in his most recent fight, with Clay’s trainer Angelo Dundee buying him time to recover in the young American’s biggest scare thus far. What would a destroyer like Liston do to him if Cooper could hurt Clay? Nevertheless, the youngster had created enough hype to land the fight, and on February 25, 1964, the pair faced off at the Miami Beach Convention Center.

Liston weighed 218 pounds, seven and a half pounds heavier than his challenger. Little did the champion and the world know this young, brash, undefeated challenger would go on to become the greatest heavyweight of all time. Liston quit on his stool after round six, citing a shoulder injury.

The stone-faced Liston was a bad man, but perhaps upon reflection, the writing was on the wall. His three previous fights were all first-round knockouts, meaning he had fought less than nine minutes in three years. He was not prepared for a long fight. Liston had predicted an early knockout, as had become custom for him. Once this was not achieved, he started to unravel. Meanwhile, Clay and Dundee had studied films of Liston and prepared hard.

Liston and the now-Muhammad Ali fought a year later, and this result was even more disappointing. Liston was floored and stopped with the infamous “Phantom Punch” in the first round, and it seemed the former champion’s career was over. He had 15 more fights before concluding his career against ‘The Real Rocky,’ Chuck Wepner, in June 1970.

In late 1970, Liston was found dead in his home—a sad and bizarre ending to a troubled life. Liston would have been more appreciated in today’s boxing. There was no place for him when he was active. The public never embraced him, and that hurt him deeply, with the scars hidden behind a mean scowl. In today’s boxing, Liston would have been a superstar. The extent to which Liston was appreciated in his day is irrelevant to his standing today. He was one of the greatest fighters ever to lace a pair of professional boxing gloves, and there will never be another like him.