They don't make champions like Muhammad Ali today
In 1981, a 21-year-old man climbed to the top of a high rise building in Los Angeles with the intention to commit suicide. A team of police officers, a chaplain and a psychologist tried in vain to talk him out of it. Unbeknownst to them, the boxer Muhammad Ali was in a building across the street. He had recently lost his fourth bid for the World Heavyweight Championship.
Upon being informed of what was happening Ali immediately ran out, and up to the floor outside of which the man was standing. The crowd watched as Ali talked to the jumper.
He told this man whom he had never met that he was his brother and he loved him. He spoke to him for 20 minutes and asked him to go home with him and meet his friends. The man stepped back off the ledge and drove off with the Champ in his Rolls Royce.
That Ali was a great boxer is an uncontested fact. Several of his fights stand alone as examples of why he laid claim to the title of the Greatest. Whether it was winning the Olympic gold (Rome, 1960) or the fight known as "Thrilla in Manila" Ali had the grace of a ballerina ("your hands can't hit what your eyes can't see") and power at the top of the heavyweight range.
However, Ali was the rare athlete who transcended the sport. He was stripped of his title in 1967 for refusing military conscription. At a time when the war had not yet become unpopular, he publicly proclaimed that he had no quarrel with the Viet Cong.
For his refusal to be drafted the government took him all the way to the Supreme Court (Clay v United States). He faced a three year boxing ban and potential imprisonment for five years but Ali refused to relent - "You want me to go somewhere and fight but you won't even stand up for me here at home". This move cost him the support of several fans. Ali was unmoved. It is easy to swear by principles but tougher to live up to them.
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| Mohammmad Ali was never a radical. |
This event would have marked an anticlimactic end to his career if not for his epic comeback title fight known as "Rumble in the Jungle' (Zaire, 1974). The bout has been the subject of several movies and books as "arguably the greatest sporting event of the 20th century".
What made it so memorable was the anticipation that preceded it. Foreman was in his prime, 25-years old, an Olympic gold medallist, and had convincingly beaten the previous heavyweight champion for the title.
An ageing Ali, 32 at the time had returned from his three-year-ban in 1970 and considered as being well past his peak. It was a spectacular fight and Ali won it with a style he later dubbed as the "rope a dope" (using the ropes to evade punches and confuse his opponent). He would go on to hold the title three times in his career.
His relationships with Malcolm X and Elijah Mohammed, the radical founders of the Nation of Islam, made many wary of him. But Ali was never a radical.
He was unapologetic in provoking the white man but never militant. He would later distance himself from the organisation.
His blustering attitude could have easily been mistaken for arrogance. But it was grounded in a captivating self-awareness and humility.
To illustrate; when he refused to put on his seatbelt on a flight, he remarked to the airhostess "Superman don't need no belt"; the airhostess replied "Superman don't need no airplane, Champ." Ali rejoiced in telling this story.
For all his showmanship, he was described by many who met him as an incredibly patient and grounded man. He would spend hours with his fans, especially the younger ones.
For many, being called "Champ" by him was an event they would never forget. His speeches at universities would draw crowds of thousands for being shocking and full of derisive wit usually aimed at the white man. Though striking, these speeches (such as "Black is best" at Howard University) were never malicious.
For a legacy to survive a career, it must possess a unique resilience. His 30-year-long battle with Parkinson's disease was an embodiment of that. Though his appearances became rarer his fame endured.
His daughter followed him into the sport as well. For years after he stepped down from the ring, he continued to be the subject of many books, movies and a documentary that won the Oscar ("When We Were Kings").
As in life, in death too Ali should have the last word. "I done wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale; handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail; only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick; I'm so mean I make medicine sick."
Rest in peace, Champ.