SOUTHPAW RESISTANCE
rounds. Mildenberger was less convincing in his June tune-up, winning a routine 15-rounder against a Croatian named Ivan Prebeg. Fortunately, few outside Germany saw the Prebeg fight, and details of it were buried in the back of newspapers. The mystery of Mildenberger remained intact. Even if Mildenberger was not an especially scary challenger, all agreed that the Ali-Mildenberger bout would be a money- spinner. Germany’s first-ever heavyweight championship contest was set for Frankfurt’s Waldstadion, the sizable home of the city’s beloved top-division soccer team. Sports pages buzzed with news of Ali’s impending payday, reported to be somewhere between $300,000 and $400,000 along with a healthy percentage of the gate. Mildenberger would receive much less, though he believed a good showing would lead to bigger paydays and global fame. Surprisingly, West German television turned down the live transmission of the fight, feeling the asking price was too high. The bout was eventually sold to America’s ABC network for a Saturday afternoon Wide World of Sports show. These European bouts featuring Ali had proved to be lucrative. The Ali-Cooper bout of a few months earlier, beamed live to the U.S. by a satellite company called Early Bird, was among the highest-rated sports programs of the year with a whopping 66% share of the TV audience. Though the press labeled Ali’s recent opponents as a “European bum of the month” tour, there was something irresistible about Ali fighting overseas and having it appear magically in your living room. Adding to the appeal, Ali-Mildenberger would be the first heavyweight title fight presented in color and the first international sports event beamed live in color to America. Another first was that Ali’s trainer, Angelo Dundee, called for a “dope test,” the first ever for a heavyweight title fight, just so “everything is on the up and up.” Some accused Dundee of creating hype, though he was likely aware of the steroid culture emerging in both East and West Germany at the time. Mildenberger happily agreed to be tested, as did Ali. Though Mildenberger appeared upbeat, he was anxious about the fight. He’d trained hard, working with lighter fighters to improve his speed, but he knew that even in Germany he wasn’t expected to last more than four rounds. As soon as the fight was made, oddsmakers announced Ali as a 10-to-1 favorite. Mildenberger told author Stephen Brunt years later that he went into the event with “a bit of stage fright.” He recalled entering the ring and seeing famous movie stars at ringside, as well as the great German champion of the early 1930s, Max Schmeling, seated next to his old rival, Joe Louis. It was a blur, Mildenberger said of those opening moments, but at the bell he settled down and focused on fighting. “I went after Ali,” he told Brunt, “but in the meantime, Ali adjusted to my style. In the last 30 seconds, it was boom, boom, boom, and he stole the round.” Ali swept the first two rounds by circling and jabbing, enjoying the large 20-foot ring his camp had imported from England, the same ring he’d used for the recent Cooper fight.
However, Mildenberger landed some good blows in the third and fourth – stiff shots that surprised Ali and delighted the crowd. But just as it seemed Mildenberger was willing himself into the fight, the cunning champion dropped him for a flash knockdown at the end of the fifth and left him with a badly cut face in the sixth. The fight followed a similar pattern for the next few rounds, with Mildenberger occasionally reaching Ali and Ali lashing back in return, frowning a bit, always landing three or four to Mildenberger’s one, ensuring the challenger’s momentum be stopped cold. Mildenberger was determined, but he returned to his corner after each round looking more ragged, blood leaking from slits in his face. He’d lasted longer than anyone had forecasted, but he was losing. Ali knocked Mildenberger down again in the eighth, and during the round’s closing moments he maneuvered Mildenberger into a neutral corner and unloaded 16 or so punches, what ABC’s Howard Cosell called “a merciless pummeling.” Yet even as he took control of the fight, Ali seemed joyless, a bored genius working out math problems. A refreshed Mildenberger came out strong for the 10th, scoring with right jabs and the occasional short left. Then, at the 0:50 mark, came the body shot heard across Europe, a stiff left that slammed into Ali’s gut and almost folded him in half. But as he’d done since the opening rounds, Ali returned fire, not letting Mildenberger capitalize. At the round’s close, Ali landed a perfect right to the jaw. Mildenberger collapsed, rolled over on his back like a movie stuntman knocked across a barroom floor, and rose unsteadily to his feet. Saved by the bell, he went to his corner as the stadium erupted in a chant of “Milde! Milde!” For a bout that had exceeded expectations, the end was anticlimactic. One minute into the 12th, Ali started whipping and windmilling his rival with punches, topped by a right to the forehead that sent Mildenberger into the ropes. Sensing Mildenberger was helpless, Teddy Waltham stopped the fight at 1:30 of the round. The German didn’t protest. “By the 12th round, I couldn’t see anything,” Mildenberger said. His critics would say that Ali had the challenger hurt many times, only to let him off the hook. But Ali, who was warned in the late rounds for hitting with an open glove, later complained that his hands were aching, a sign perhaps of the bursitis that would plague him throughout his career. Either that, or Mildenberger was just a tough set of bones. “Karl Mildenberger gave me the toughest title defense I’ve had so far,” Ali said immediately after the bout. Whether it was Mildenberger’s southpaw style or just his doggedness, Ali praised him as a singular opponent and would continue to do so in the decades to come. The praise was always returned. “As a friend, I cherished him. I put him on a pedestal as a boxer,” Mildenberger said of Ali in 2002. Ultimately, the fight provided people with whatever they wanted to see. For those who felt Ali was overrated with
Mildenberger went down three times but finished the fight on his feet, throroughly defeated but a hero to his countrymen.
no punch, they saw it that way. For those who felt Ali was a brilliant young champion, that’s what they saw. You could split the audience evenly into Ali’s critics and supporters, and each side would’ve seen what they believed was true. It was also a classic underdog’s tale. And though he lost, the night belonged to Mildenberger. He’d come from a place that had been reduced to rubble by the war. And he came out fighting. It must’ve been uplifting for Germans to see Mildenberger hold his own with the champion for 11½ rounds. Though Germany had enjoyed an amazing economic recovery in the 21 years since the war, the population was still buckling under a tremendous psychological trauma, the loss of 7 million lives and the shame of the Nazi regime. A new Germany was emerging, one that would challenge the previous “war” generation, but with only two decades between itself and the horrors of World War II, the country must’ve felt it was still in the middle of a long and uncertain journey. When his backers lifted Mildenberger onto their shoulders, and he tiredly blew kisses at the audience, the image of his battered but smiling face must’ve been a beacon for the country. We’re Germans, it seemed to say; we’ll fight on.
Louis and Schmeling had their say. Louis grumbled about Ali having no killer instinct. Schmeling thought Ali had “played too much.” Yet Schmeling had a philosophical outlook on the event. After all, he knew something about German history and boxing’s place in it. “A proud night for German boxing,” the former champion said. “A proud night for world boxing.” Ali said little, only that he hoped to fight again in two months. Though his worries about the draft board were growing, his most pressing concern now was a black mink stole presented to him by a Frankfurt businessman. It was a gift for his mother. Ali wanted to be sure she received it during the post-fight commotion. That’s how Germany’s big night ended, with the champion’s mother, Mrs. Odessa Clay, snuggling into her new stole, the champion feeling tired, and most of the press still doubting that he was as great as he claimed to be.
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