Muhammad Ali Got on His KNEES for Dying Joe Frazier—What He Said Next Left Everyone SOBBING 

The phone rang in Muhammad Ali’s Phoenix home and the voice on the other end delivered news that stopped the greatest boxer who ever lived dead in his tracks. Muhammad, the voice said quietly, Joe Frasier is dying and he wants to see you. For 40 years, these two men had carried one of sports history’s most bitter hatreds.
40 years of refusing to speak. 40 years of walking out of rooms when the other entered. 40 years of wounds that never healed. But now with death knocking at Joe Frasier’s door, everything was about to change. What happened in that hospital room over the next hour didn’t just end the most painful rivalry in boxing history. It gave us one of the most beautiful moments of forgiveness the sports world has ever witnessed.
This is the true story of the day Muhammad Ali got down on his knees for his dying enemy. And what he said next left everyone in that room sobbing uncontrollably. November 2011. Muhammad Ali was 69 years old and had been battling Parkinson’s disease for nearly three decades. His hands trembled constantly.
His speech was slow and labored. Getting through each day required tremendous effort. But when his wife Lonnie told him that Joe Frasier was in the final stages of liver cancer and had specifically asked to see him, Ali didn’t hesitate for even a second. I have to go to him, Ali said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I have to tell him something I should have said 40 years ago. To understand why this moment was so powerful, you have to understand the depth of the hatred between these two men. This wasn’t just a sports rivalry. This was personal, brutal, and had been destroying both of them for four decades. It started in 1971 with what was buil as the fight of the century at Madison Square Garden.
Ali had been stripped of his championship title for refusing to fight in Vietnam. And Frasier had become champion in his absence. But what made their rivalry so toxic wasn’t what happened in the ring. It was what Alli said outside of it. In the months leading up to that first fight, Ali launched a cruel campaign against Frasier that went far beyond typical boxing trash talk.
He called him ignorant. He called him an Uncle Tum and suggested that Frasier was a puppet of white America. He said Frasier was too ugly to be champion. These weren’t just promotional stunts. These were deeply personal attacks designed to humiliate an emasculate. For Frasier, who had actually supported Ali during his boxing ban and had even lent him money when Ali was broke.
The betrayal cut deeper than any punch ever could. Frasier had considered Ali a friend, maybe even a brother. But Ali had turned him into a villain to promote their fight, and Frasier never forgave him for it. I hated Ali. Frasier would later admit, “God might not like me talking like that, but it’s the truth. He took a piece of me that night that I never got back.
Their three fights became legendary, but each one only made the hatred worse. The first fight in 1971 was brutal. For 15 rounds, they beat each other with a savagery that shocked everyone watching. In the 15th round, Frasier landed a devastating left hook that sent Ali to the canvas. The first time Ali had ever been knocked down in a professional fight.
Frasier won by unanimous decision, but the victory came at a terrible cost. His face was so swollen afterward that he spent two weeks in the hospital. They fought again in 1974 with Ali winning a unanimous decision. But it was their third fight that became legendary and changed both men forever. October 1st, 1975. The thriller in Manila.
Even the name sounds like hell. And that’s exactly what it became. The fight took place in the Philippines in front of Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos. The temperature inside the arena was over 100°. The humidity was suffocating and for 14 rounds, Ali and Frasier tried to kill each other. “Men, I hit him with punches that would bring down the walls of a city,” Ali said afterward, but he kept coming.
What Ali remembered most was the pain. He said it was like death, closest thing to dying that I know of. By the 14th round, Frasier could barely see. Both eyes were nearly swollen shut. His face was a mask of blood and bruises. When the bell rang to end the round, Frasier’s trainer, Eddie Futch, wouldn’t let him continue.
Sit down, son. It’s all over. Futch said. No one will ever forget what you did here today. Alli had won, but he collapsed in his corner immediately after. He couldn’t stand for the post fight interview. He later admitted he was ready to quit himself if the fight had gone one more round. The thriller in Manila should have ended with mutual respect.
Both men had proven their greatness. But instead, the bitterness only grew worse. In the years that followed, Ali continued to mock Frasier in public. During television appearances and interviews, he would call Frasier a gorilla and laugh at his expense. Each insult was like another punch, exceptthese came when Frasier had no way to fight back.
Frasier’s response was to carry his hatred like a weight he couldn’t put down. In interviews, he would say he dreamed of Ali dying in a car crash. He told reporters that if Ali were on fire, he wouldn’t cross the street to throw water on him. The anger consumed him, said his son, Marvis Frasier. It ate him up inside. “Every time Ali’s name came up, you could see Dad’s whole body tense.
” The two men would occasionally cross paths at boxing events and Hall of Fame ceremonies, but they never spoke. If one entered a room, the other would leave. At a 2001 ceremony where they were both being honored, they stood on opposite sides of the stage and refused to look at each other. But in private, away from the cameras and the crowds, something was changing in Muhammad Ali.
As Parkinson’s disease slowly took away his ability to speak and move, Ali began to reflect on his life in ways he never had before. His Islamic faith had always taught him the importance of seeking forgiveness, but it took the disease to make him truly understand what that meant. Muhammad started talking about Joe around 2005. His wife Looney remembered.
He would say Joe’s name and shake his head. I knew he had regrets, but his speech was so limited that he couldn’t fully express what he was feeling. Ali tried several times to reach out to Frasier, but Frasier refused to take his calls. Once at a boxing event, Ali approached Frasier and tried to embrace him.
Frasier pushed him away and walked out of the building. “It’s too late,” Frasier told a reporter. “He can’t take back what he did to me.” But in the fall of 2011, everything changed. Joe Frasier was diagnosed with liver cancer. The disease was aggressive, and doctors told him he had only weeks to live. As Frasier lay in his hospital bed in Philadelphia, something shifted in his heart.
His daughter Jackie was sitting with him when he suddenly said something that shocked her to her core. I want to see Ali. I need to talk to him before I go. Jackie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her father had spent 40 years refusing to forgive Muhammad Ali. Now with death approaching, he wanted reconciliation.
“Are you sure, Dad?” she asked. “Yeah,” Frasier said weakly. “It’s time. We’re both old men now. This hate has got to end.” When the call came to Alli’s home in Phoenix, Lonnie answered. She listened as Jackie Frasier explained the situation and her father’s dying wish to see Ally. “We’ll be there,” Lonnie said immediately. “Tell your father we’re coming.
” November 8th, 2011, the day that would change everything. Muhammad Ali walked into Joe Frasier’s hospital room at Philadelphia’s Jefferson University Hospital, and the scene was heartbreaking. Frasier, once a powerful heavyweight champion who could take Alli’s hardest punches, now looked small and fragile in his hospital bed.
The cancer had ravaged his body. He weighed barely 120 lbs and his skin had taken on a yellowish tint from liver failure. Alli, his hands shaking from Parkinson’s slowly approached the bed. For a long moment, the two men just looked at each other. 40 years of anger, pain, and regret hung in the air between them. Then Ali did something that surprised everyone in the room.
He got down on his knees beside Frasier’s bed. The sight of the greatest boxer who ever lived, despite his own debilitating illness, kneeling beside his dying former enemy was so powerful that Jackie Frasier immediately started crying. “Joe,” Ali said, his voice trembling and slow. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said.
You didn’t deserve that. You were always a great champion, and I was wrong to talk about you the way I did.” Tears were streaming down Alli’s face as he spoke. His Parkinson’s made it difficult for him to express himself, but everyone in that room understood every word he was saying. The nurses who had come to check on Frasier stopped in the doorway, unable to move.
“They were witnessing something extraordinary,” Frasier reached out with his thin, weak hand and placed it on top of Alli’s trembling hand. “It’s okay, champ,” Frasier said softly, his own eyes filling with tears. “You’re forgiven. We both said things. We both did things. But you know what? You made me great. Our fights made both of us who we are.
I couldn’t have been great without you. Ally looked up at Frasier, tears flowing freely now. You made me great, too, Joe. Nobody ever pushed me the way you did. Nobody ever made me dig that deep. You were the toughest man I ever fought, the bravest man I ever knew. By now, everyone in the room was crying.
Jackie Frasier, the nurses, Loney Ali, even the security guard who had escorted them up was wiping his eyes. For the next hour, the two men talked quietly, sometimes with words, sometimes just sitting in silence, holding hands. They talked about Manila. They talked about their children.
They talked about getting old and facing death. At one point, Frasierasked Ali about his Parkinson’s. “Does it hurt?” Frasier asked. “Only my pride?” Ali said, managing a small smile. But I deserved it. All those punches you gave me, they made me who I am. And all those punches I gave you. Frasier said, “They’re part of me, too. We’re connected forever.
You and me were part of each other’s story.” Before Ali left that hospital room, he did something that no one expected. He took off the Islamic prayer bracelet he always wore, a bracelet that had been blessed by religious leaders and had traveled with him around the world and placed it on Frasier’s wrist. This will protect you, Ali said, his voice breaking. On your journey.
Thank you, brother. Frasier said the word brother, carrying 40 years of pain and forgiveness. You’re still the greatest. No, Joe, Ali said, tears still flowing. We both are. We both are. When Ali finally stood to leave, he leaned down and kissed Frasier on the forehead. It was a gesture of love, respect, and final farewell between two warriors who had found their way back to each other after four decades in the darkness.
Muhammad Ali left that hospital room and never saw Joe Frasier again. Just one day later, on November 7th, 2011, Joe Frasier passed away with Ali’s prayer bracelet still on his wrist. His final words about Ali, according to his son, Marvis, were, “Tell Muhammad I forgive him and I hope he forgives me, too.
We were warriors together. We pushed each other to be great. And in the end, that’s all that matters. Because of Ali’s health, he couldn’t attend Frasier’s funeral. But he sent a statement that was read aloud. The world has lost a great champion. I will always remember Joe with respect and admiration. Go back to God, Joe.
You were a great fighter and a great man. Rest in peace. The story of Muhammad Ali and Joe Frasier reminds us that even the deepest wounds can heal. Even the longest grudges can be released. Even the most bitter rivals can find peace. Their three fights were legendary. They gave us moments of courage and determination that will never be forgotten.
But their final meeting in that hospital room when two old warriors finally forgave each other was their greatest victory. Because in the end, it’s not the punches we throw that define us. It’s the hands we hold. It’s the forgiveness we offer. It’s the peace we make before we go. Muhammad Ali passed away in 2016, 5 years after Joe Frasier.
When Ali died, Marvis Frasier was one of the first to speak publicly about his passing. “My father died at peace because of that meeting,” he said. And I believe Muhammad did, too. They needed each other in life, and they needed each other at the end. That’s what real greatness looks like. Today, at the International Boxing Hall of Fame, there’s a photo of Ali and Frasier standing together, both smiling.
It was taken on the day of their reconciliation. Neither man’s face shows the damage of their wars. Instead, you see two friends who found their way back to each other. Beneath the photo is a plaque with a quote from a Joe Frasier was the greatest fighter I ever fought. Not just in the ring, but in life. He taught me what it means to be a warrior.
And at the very end, he taught me what it means to forgive. Sometimes the greatest battles we fight aren’t against our opponents, but against our own pride and anger. And sometimes the greatest victory is simply getting down on your knees and saying, “I’m sorry.” That’s what made Muhammad Ali the greatest.
Not just his skills in the ring, but his ability to find the courage to kneel down for forgiveness when it mattered