An earthquake. The ground collapsing beneath one’s feet. Everything around you that is established and familiar giving way to things new and strange.
Cassius Clay wasn’t supposed to be for real. A braggart, a clown, a walking publicity stunt. Not someone a deadly puncher like Sonny Liston would ever need to worry about. Just a loudmouth, a showboat, who’d do and say just about anything for attention. Did some bizarre training stuff underwater. Went to Liston’s house and woke him up in the middle of the night. How could a guy like that ever be the heavyweight champion of the world? But it’s February 26th, 1964, and now he is.