(Picture: A young Muhammad Ali with his heroes Sugar Ray Robinson (Middle) and Joe Louis (R))
Muhammad Ali celebrated his 70th birthday on Tuesday. I tripped on it for a moment. 70 years old. Man, where’d the time go? When I think of Ali, I think of him as a young man because it was as a young man that he brought a sense of excitement and esteem to my family, to me. I read once that a reporter was present during a training session of a young heavyweight named Cassius Clay (who later changed his name to Muhammad Ali). The reporter recognized Clay’s talent but spent much time talking to a former heavyweight champion who happened to be present at the training camp, Joe Louis. When asked why he flocked with a few other reporters to Louis, the reporter replied, “Because in his prime he was so good”.
I suppose a similar thing would have occurred had Ali happened upon Mike Tyson’s or Lennox Lewis’ training camp.
Back in 1995 I stood in line about 4 blocks long awaiting the arrival of Muhammad Ali at Marcus Books in Oakland for a signing. I was among hundreds of folks waiting to get a glimpse of Ali. We waited several hours. I looked at the people in line. A guy in a cowboy hat and western wear stood near a brother in a bright yellow daishiki. Chinese, Chicanos, Samoans, black folk, candys stripe and Technicolor folk all waited in line to see Ali, to show love for him, to gather around him because he was so good, because he made us feel good.
I was too young to remember Ali at his very best--that is, between the years 1964-1967. He was so fast, my father said, that he’d fight and sometimes not even get hit. In the book, “Sting Like a Bee”, Ali’s biography, author Jose Torres—a former light heavyweight champion of the world—asserted that unlike a lot of fighters, Ali became better after winning the title. I watched films of Ali (Then Cassius Clay) winning the title against Sonny Liston in the year I was born—1964. Liston was considered unbeatable. Ali predicted a win and shocked the world, upsetting Liston in 7 rounds to win the title. Ali later said that he was “scared to death” of Liston—and rightfully so—for Liston was a dominating champion who was the mold for future fighters like George Foreman and Mike Tyson, fighters who often won before the gloves were even laced. Clay was declared the winner and new champion when Liston couldn’t come out for the 7th round. Clay leaned over the ropes and yelled to the press at ringside, “I shook up the world! I shook up the world!” The press had given Clay little chance of defeating Liston. A few feet away from an elated Cassius Clay stood Joe Louis.
Prior to the rematch with Liston, Ali proclaimed he was a member of the Nation of Islam and announced he had changed his name to Muhammad Ali. He was seen in the company of Malcolm X, infuriating white America. He went on to defeat Liston in the rematch. He was something to see. The confidence he displayed in the ring was poetry. It was as if brother Malcolm was with him—and he was. He moved as if convinced no one could beat him that night or on any other night. Afterwards Malcolm split with the Nation amidst the alleged impropriety of Nation of Islam founder Elijah Muhammad. Ali and Malcolm had a brief encounter in Ghana in 1964. Malcolm called out, “Brother Muhammad”. The split between Malcolm and the Nation caused a split between Malcolm and Ali. Ali told Malcolm he was wrong for splitting with Elijah Muhammad. The two parted ways. Ali later said that splitting with Malcolm was one of his biggest regrets.
I was on youtube watching clips of Ali’s fights. I watched the fight against Cleveland Williams in 1967. That night, I believe Ali could have defeated any heavyweight who ever lived—with the possible exception of Joe Louis on the day he defeated Max Schmeling. Many called the Williams fight his best fight. Williams couldn’t hit Ali. Ali landed at will. It was to be his last fight. What followed was a 3 ½ year battle with the US government over his refusal to be inducted into the US army to fight in Vietnam. He was stripped of his title, vilified by the press and much of middle America. “No Viet Cong ever called me nigger” said Ali, defending his position on moral grounds that the war was against his religion. Those in opposition said that Ali would have boxed exhibitions and seen no combat service. To Ali, boxing exhibitions for the military would have been the same as condoning an unjust war. He stood firm in his battle with the government which would see him lose his title, boxing license and 3 years of his fighting prime. But to people around the world, his conviction to his principles gained him the esteem of millions. He finally won his battle against the government in the US Supreme Court.
When he returned to the ring in 1970, there was a new champion, Joe Frazier, who had gained the vacated crown. When the two signed to fight, Ali said some hurtful things about Joe’s character—that he was an uncle tom, a white man’s champion, inarticulate and unfit to be champion. What few people knew was that Joe Frazier had lobbied the various commissions to reinstate Ali’s boxing license. He even loaned Ali money at a time when Ali was broke—having paid lawyers fees during his lengthy trial. When Ali and Frazier finally fought in 1971, it was billed the fight of the century. Madison Square Garden was the Center of the universe the night of the fight. Celebrities were out in force. Frank Sinatra was dispatched by Life Magazine to take “official” photos of the fight. The fight was seen on closed circuit TV and grossed the highest gate for a fight to date. As Ken Norton pointed out, prior to Ali, athlete’s salaries weren’t that high. After Ali, they exploded.
Standing in line waiting to meet Ali in Oakland, I remember that and other fights like it was yesterday. I could go on about the man. I could talk about the 3 fights with Frazier that would have broken anybody in half. I could talk about the fight vs. Foreman in Zaire where Ali finally regained the title. I could mention his first fight against Ken Norton when his jaw was broken in the 2nd or 3rd round, how he fought on with that broken jaw for 9 rounds. Can you imagine fighting with a broken jaw? The man was not only fast, graceful, articulate and funny—he was tough. And who could forget the third fight against Frazier in the Philippines. Rounds 1-5 saw Ali take an early lead but Joe, in typical fashion, surged on in round 6. In the middle of the round, while in pursuit of the champion Ali, Frazier landed a left hook that would have toppled a building. Ali withstood it and won via 14th round TKO when Frazier, eyes puffy, was prevented from coming for the final round. Ali sunk to the floor in exahaustion. It was one of the most brutal fights in heavyweight history. It was that fight, perhaps more than any other, that made the old school boxing crowd--those of the Dempsey/Louis generation--give Ali respect as a tough as nails fighter--as tough as anybody who ever laced up a pair of boxing gloves.
Ali's talent, coupled with his personality allowed him to get away with things that other fighters couldn't get away with, such as holding an opponent in the back of the head, or laying on the ropes as he did against George Foreman and other opponents. He could also say things that others couldn't. Larry Holmes was villified by the press for saying of Rocky Marciano: "Rocky couldn't have carried my jockstrap". Larry was harshly criticized by the remark, made towards the end of his career. He went on to lose a controversial decision to Michael Spinks, a fight--had he won--would have broken Marciano's undefeated record. One could imagine the reaction had Ali made that remark about Marciano. The press would have laughed. That was Ali.
And there was also the immortal words when he spoke of Howard Cosell's toupee:
"Cosell...that thing you got on your head is a phony and it comes from the tail of a pony"
I finally got to the head of the line and was called over to sit next to Ali. I went over, sat down and someone took a picture. The only thing I could say to him was, “Hello Mr. Ali”. He looked at me and smiled. I walked away trying to remember what I had wanted to say to him, what I had rehearsed in the time I had waited in line. I watched him a while longer. He smiled, took pictures and whispered. I noticed his hands, they shook. I remembered his words: I shook up the world…I shook up the world!