Cowtown
Sesquipedalia verba
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Spot-on post. I "interviewed" Ali twice in Cleveland in the '70s -- you didn't interview him, he was just on auto-pilot -- and he was majestic, magical, magnificent. He was always "on," which made it all the sadder to, ironically, see him struggle to muster as much as a whisper for about the last half of his life.
I'm 67, have no regrets in life, none, if I had a mulligan, though, I’d have had someone snap a pic of me "interviewing" Ali in the locker room at the Cleveland Arena following a charity show that, I'm pretty sure, was Don King’s first production after he came home from "college."
As to his size, I was surprised how tall and muscular he was up close. Great experience -- and great memory -- sitting at press row and watching the tassels on his shoes flutter when he went into the Ali Shuffle 10 feet away from my pre-spectacled eyes.
Saw Ali speak in my college gym, too, during his forced exile from boxing. He was great. You're so right, Crusty, the SCOTUS did its job well when it unanimously riled Ali had been done wrong. So, so wrong. I remember the personal joy when that ruling came down and I set out on Akron's main downtown drag to interview people for the daily rag. He was so much more than a boxer. I'm glad social media and hate radio didn't exist when he was in his prime.
He was, no question, The Greatest. My heart starts beating faster thinking back to maybe my greatest sports thrill ever, watching Ali, on closed-circuit at the Akron Armory, pull out the rope-a-dope and do the unthinkable -- topple big, bad, ol' George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle. I was standing on a chair, screaming, rejoicing, hugging strangers like it was V-J Day in Times Square. I was hoarse for two days.
The only thing I regret and troubles me is how Ali abandoned his close friend and adviser Malcolm, who had Ali's best interests in mind unlike Herbert Muhammad and all those phony hangers-on. Ali felt forced to pick sides, sad, he knew what Malcolm's ultimate fate would be when he abandoned him.
I guess nobody, even Ali, is perfect.
Thanks for sharing those stories. I'm 65, so we both know something of what it was like to be a teenager in America when Ali was in his prime. Ali was an eye-opener for me. I was a skinny white kid from upstate NY living in a town of 5,000, but where there was only one black family. I don't think I ever noticed that as "unusual" until I got a little older, competing in sports with city schools (mostly around Binghamton) where there were more black kids and athletes.
Anyway, my teen years were very different from those of a black kid who grew up in an inner city neighborhood. And while I didn't actually understand it at the time, Ali helped me to see, understand and accept there was another way of seeing the world around me, different from the way I had grown up: John Wayne movies, Mom, God and apple pie, '57 Chevies and the Beach Boys & Beatles, etc. I hadn't liked Ali much at first because he was different, said different things from what I'd been brought up to think I believed in. So, through him I began to understand that other people had different life experiences and a different story to tell.
So when I got to college in the late 60's - and I'm sure we both remember how complex it all was then - I was more receptive to first acknowledging there were these differences, and then to try to understand more about them. When Ali stood up for a principle - or several of them - what was important was why he did. I had to think about what was really being said and done, both by him but also in the world in which he lived. And the older I became, the more I understood just how great were the steps he took, how brave and tough he had to be to continue being the man he was.
Now, I'm pretty sure he was no saint, and neither am I, but he showed me it was important to take a wider view of my life, and if that meant I believed in something outside the norm, that was okay, too. And so although I never met him, I was better for knowing of him.