The boxing world stood still on Oct. 1, 1975.

That was the day Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier closed the book on one of boxing’s greatest rivalries in fitting fashion in “The Thrilla in Manila.” The all-time great heavyweights went to hell and back at Araneta Coliseum in the Philippines, lighting the ring ablaze much like the arena around them.

Ali earned one of his greatest victories, defeating Frazier by 14th-round stoppage in one of the best fights to ever grace the squared circle and put his stamp on boxing’s greatest trilogy.

Among those who bore witness to “The Thrilla in Manila” was International Boxing Hall of Fame writer Jerry Izenberg.

Izenberg, 95, is a member of 18 Halls of Fame for his work as a journalist over his 75-year career that continues to this day and was close friends with Ali and Frazier. He covered the fight for The Star-Ledger of Newark, New Jersey, and dedicated a chapter of his book, Once There Were Giants: The Golden Age of Heavyweight Boxing, to the epic clash between two of boxing’s most prominent figures.

“It was the greatest fight I ever saw in my life,” Izenberg told The Ring.

The buildup was more than fitting for the third fight between Ali and Frazier. Izenberg arrived three weeks early to acclimate himself to the Philippines.

The over 8,000-mile trip almost proved to be for no reason, as Ali and Frazier’s camps couldn’t agree on the referee to officiate the bout. Frazier’s trainer, International Boxing Hall of Famer Eddie Futch, was hell-bent on making sure Zack Clayton wasn’t the official after he had seen him cheering on Ali from ringside during one of his fights.

Had the commission not obliged, Futch threatened to pull Frazier from the bout. Izenberg believed he was more than willing to go to that extent if his demand was not met.

Eventually, Futch’s wish was granted. He enlisted help from Philadelphia mayor Frank Rizzo, who told Clayton he’d be fired if he made the trip to Manila rather than working his civil service job in the city.

Izenberg attended a tense rules meeting days before the fight in anticipation that something would happen. It culminated in a colonel silencing the room by putting a .45 on the table and pointing at it while he stated that a Filipino would be the referee.

The third man in the ring would be a policeman from Manila, Carlos “Sonny” Padilla, who walked into the room after the colonel’s proclamation.

Izenberg described him as “the tallest Filipino I had ever seen this side of Roman Gabriel.” Gabriel, who stood 6-foot-5, was the NFL’s first Filipino-American quarterback. He played for the Los Angeles Rams (1962-1972) and Philadelphia Eagles (1973-1977) and won the MVP in 1969.

“At the start of the fight, he kept slapping both of them,” Izenberg said. “He slapped Ali. Ali had a habit of putting a hand behind your head, pulling your head down and shooting a right hook. The first time he did it, the referee slapped his hand away and said, ‘If you do it again, I'll throw you out of the building.’ Then Frazier hit Ali [low] – it was close on the border, and [Padilla] slapped him and said, ‘If you do it again, you’re out of this building. I’ll forfeit this fight.’ So this fight, the greatest fight I ever saw, had almost no clinches. They were more afraid of the referee than they were of each other.”

Izenberg didn’t give Frazier much of a chance heading into the penultimate bout against his greatest rival, given how he looked in his two fights since losing their rematch by unanimous decision to Ali on Jan. 28, 1974 – a pair of TKO victories over Jerry Quarry and Jimmy Ellis. Ali had won 17 of his 18 fights since losing the first bout against Frazier by unanimous decision on March 8, 1971, and was riding a seven-fight win streak, including his eighth-round knockout of George Foreman in “The Rumble in the Jungle” on Oct. 30, 1974, to reclaim the WBC heavyweight title.

But unbeknownst to Izenberg, Ali, and anyone not associated with Frazier’s camp, Futch had enlisted the help of fellow International Boxing Hall of Fame trainer, George Benton, to help Frazier add a right hand to his repertoire alongside his vaunted left hook. Alas, the stage was set for one of boxing’s greatest rivalries to reach its pinnacle.

Izenberg described the setting as a “fiery furnace,” as it was 105 degrees in the ring. The action eventually reached that of an inferno, as the two fighters, fueled largely by their disdain for one another, went to lengths they had never gone in their pursuit of having their hand raised in the rubber match.

The fight began how Izenberg expected, as Ali’s boxing prowess, along with his height, reach and speed advantages, proved to be too much for Frazier as he got out to an early lead. Then, in the fifth round, Frazier proved he had more than just a left hook. He unleashed the weapon he had spent much of his training camp working on and, to the surprise of Ali, connected with a huge right hand.

“He didn't care if it landed,” Izenberg said of Futch having Frazier work on his right hand with Benton. “Ali had the greatest boxing IQ of anybody I ever saw, and [Futch] wanted [Frazier] to give him something to think about. Does he have a right hand? Does he not? Ali yells at Frazier, ‘You got no right hand. You’re too old to learn. You’re too old.’ Frazier smiles, throws the right hand a second time and lands. Now, Ali has something to think about. He’s not fighting a one-armed guy.”

The tide turned, and Frazier took control of the bout. The fight eventually became an all-out war as both fighters were forced to dig deeper than they ever had inside the ring. As both fighters gave pieces of themselves that they never got back, Izenberg, alongside late New York Times reporter Dave Anderson, couldn’t believe what he was witnessing as he watched an all-time classic unfold.

“We got to the 10th or 11th round, I said to Dave Anderson, who was sitting next to me, ‘Why don’t they send us home?’ Why don’t they tell us they both won? I can't watch any more of this,’ ” Izenberg recalled. “At that point, we moved ahead two more rounds, and Frazier has got nothing left. He’s standing with his arms dangling by his side. His legs are quivering like wet spaghetti. Ali is a foot away. He can’t walk the foot to push him. The fight would have been over. That’s how much they had both left in the ring by then.”

Ali eventually re-seized control of the bout as he leaned on his ability to keep Frazier at the end of his punches and eventually caused Frazier’s eyes to nearly swell shut. Heading into what was going to be the 15th and final round between Ali and Frazier, Izenberg had Ali up by one point on his unofficial scorecard.

The 15th round never happened.

Seeing the damage that had been done to Frazier’s face and the punishment he had taken, Futch opted to stop the fight, much to the chagrin of his fighter.

“Futch looks at Frazier’s eyes and says to George Benton, ‘George, you cut off the gloves,’ ” Izenberg said. “Frazier says, ‘If you guys do that, I will kill both of you.’ Across the ring, [Ali’s corner] notices. They see the gloves get cut. They know the fight’s over.”

At the orders of Futch, Benton cut Frazier’s gloves between the 14th and 15th round, signifying the end. At the realization that he had triumphed in the toughest fight of his career over his most bitter rival, Ali briefly rose to his feet only to collapse to the canvas.

While Ali’s business partner, Gene Kilroy, said Ali went down to the canvas to protect himself, Izenberg’s perspective painted a different view in the aftermath of the hellacious battle.

“Ali gets up, he’s the winner, and as soon as he’s the winner, he’s on the floor,” Izenberg said. “He collapses. Gene Kilroy, a really good friend of mine and a good friend of Ali’s, protected him. He told me he went down because he was afraid that the crowd rushing into the ring would hurt Ali. I didn’t see it that way at all. Ali could not stand up. He was grateful the way it ended.”

Rarely does the final chapter of any rivalry live up to what transpired beforehand. “The Thrilla in Manila” wasn’t just one of the few exceptions – it was the perfect exclamation point to one of the most bitter feuds in sports history and will stand the test of time. The story of boxing can’t be properly told without Ali, Frazier or the third bout between them.

“[Ali is] walking up the aisle, and he sees Anderson and me, and he leans in and he says, ‘Fellas, that’s the closest you will ever see to death,’ ” Izenberg recalled. “And I said to Anderson, ‘I don’t want to see him any closer, because I’ll probably be dead.’ That fight drained everybody in the arena. I’ve never seen anything like it.”