Equally cogent advice was shouted by the others. In the 13th, so far behind that he could win only by a knockout, Spinks was advised by one of his cornermen to start jabbing to the body. Why not? It was as good as telling him to wiggle or to give him the old gusto.
And then it was all over, with Ali still dancing, and Spinks doggedly chasing him, still trying to find him, still trying to hit him.
The decision was announced: 10-4-1, 10-4-1, 11-4. And Spinks was there in the middle of the ring, one of the first to raise his idol's right arm in victory. Score one more for the venerable master. And shed a tear for the kid from the ghetto who really never had a chance.