RIP,Champ.Your work is done.
Remember when boxing was on regular broadcast television? Great, now-classic fights were sent out on ABC and other networks. That was great. Ali owned America.
If youāve never seen the documentary When We Were Kings, see it sometime. Itās perfect. Norman Mailer and Don King have the same hair!
Great song from it too. Put it on your workout play list and get strong. āFloat like a butterflyyyyyā¦Sting like a beeeeeā
Ali, truly the Greatest of them All!
RIP My Love, RIP!
So sorry to hear this. Rest in Peace Champ.
Yes he was
Thank you for that memory.
āItās a sad day for life, man. I loved Muhammad Ali, he was my friend. Ali will never die,ā Don King, who promoted some of Aliās biggest fights, told The Associated Press early Saturday. āLike Martin Luther King his spirit will live on, he stood for the world.ā
Well said, Mr. King. Rest in peace, Mr. Ali.
Iāve always remembered an interview Geraldo Rivera did with Ali in Louisville around 1968 or 69 for an ABC late night show called, I think, āGood Night Americaā. Geraldo, deep in his long-haired hippie period, wore a blue tee shirt with a Superman logo but it was Aliās reaction and looks of incredulity that made the memory stick.
RIP, Champ.
THIS!!!
I had (have) tears in my eyes when he stepped out to light the fuse sending the fire to the cauldron. He was shaky and he was non expressive, but by God, HE WAS THERE.
Dammit, 2016, what the hellā¦
I know everybodyās praising the guy, but shouldnāt we at least consider the fact that heās partly responsible for the braggadocious culture we now have?
We all knew it was coming, but it doesnāt hurt any less. Growing up in Louisville, Muhammad Ali was everything to us. An idol, icon, hometown hero, The Greatest. Like most kids from here, I met him a couple of times, got signed Korans and heād always have you put up your dukes like he was about to fight you. I remember him holding my fists, then putting his up and looking into my eyes like he was seriously ready to box. Heād play fight you for a second and then smile and hug you. He was the sweetest man. My mom grew up with him (his grandmother lived directly across the street from her) and boy she hated him, couldnāt stand all the bragging and heād hit on her. It was always a point of pride for me that my mother was one of the few people on the planet to have gotten away with punching Muhammad Ali. In their later years, she grew to respect and admire him too. Iām sure theyāre up there today laughing about the time her drunk uncle drove his car into Aliās grandmotherās living room.
Nope, letās not do this today. Entirely too soon. Some of us are mourning.
That was a great movie. Also well worth watching is Facing Ali, which is made up of interviews with some of the good and great fighters of the time (Frazier, Foreman, Chuvalo, Shavers, etc.), talking about what it was like to fight Ali. It may not sound fascinating but it is.
Speaking of that, I wonāt deny the similarities between Aliās bragging and that of a certain narcissist with very questionable business practicies whoās representing the GOP this election year. That said, Ali was in the sports arena. While I personally tend to have more respect for quiet players (winners or not), those who are humble, I also wonāt deny my admiration for Mr. Ali and what he was up against ā being an African-American in sports at that time was particularly difficult. Witness how heāand so many others, including some of our most gifted artists and entertainersāwas treated while traveling, staying at hotels, restaurants, etc.
In addition to all the athletic prowess and fine personal qualities Josh mentioned, Muhammad Ali was a master showman at the time when media was just becoming āmassā.
Ali skillfully manipulated the media, enlisting sports journalist Howard Cosell as his personal carnival barker (much to Cosellās delight) to promote his ābrandā ā God I hate that term ā but he did so not to spin his shortcomings. Money didnāt validate mediocre skills. Instead, for Ali, the media served to magnify his unique ability.
That, I believe, is the ingredient of singular, iconic greatness, and those moments are not gone. We are still experiencing them through other phenomenal sports figures today. What we may have forever lost is the chance to experience it from people of great character or intellectuality.
In politics for example, not a completely unrelated topic in the context of Ali, when a man as fine as our President is challenged by ātalk show hostsā manipulating media to establish their ābrandā as smart people because they can make up conspiracy theories to fool people for a buck ā the money from their con validating their āintellectualityā in some way ā we see the deterioration of our culture vividly in real time right on our television screens.
Ali broadcast greatest. He gave his time in history a gift, a powerful message: be trueā¦ and fight.
I mourn proudly for Cassius Clay. And Muhammed Ali.
I wasnāt so much a boxing fan at age 6 when Clay knocked out Sonny Liston for the heavyweight championship in '64.
But in 1967 I became a fan of Mohammed Ali-- for life.
By the time Ali had had his conviction for draft evasion overturned by the SCOTUS in '71 I had become both socially and politically aware within the progressive social experiment of school desgregation in Dade County FL.
Ali, then, was a touchstone for me personally.
In prison, he was resolute and determined to reclaim what racism and politics had wrought upon him. His religion was made out to be a kind of boogeyman-- but his faith, to me, was the stalwart facet of his persona.
It was from this strength of character that I saw him as just a man.
One who had been denied the simplest of rights-- to believe what he chose.
Myself? I was preadolescent, athletic, and best friends with two other young boys;
sons of a Jewish family-- who were also good athletes.
It was this paradigm-- of our religions, my familyās Christianity, my friendsā familyās Judaism, and Aliās Muslim beliefs-- that opened the door to my/our (my 2 friends as well) social and political awareness.
As ever they are, our discussions and debates on religion and politics were never-ending-- but ever-broadening.
A great, great man whose faith and love of people
allowed him to become a symbol for freedom of thought,
for freedom of oneās beliefs.
Once a beacon for a young boy.
Now a hero to an old man.
Itās with no heavy heart that I mourn for both the Cassius Clay of my youth-- and the Muhammed Ali of today.
He had, IMHO, fulfilled his mission in life.
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jw1
Itās not bragging if you can back it up. Itās not bragging to stand up for yourself.
I know we are supposed to be emotionally affected when important figures die. That has often not been the case for me, even when Iāve felt some connection to them. I really liked Princeās music, for example, and felt his loss but didnāt feel the urge to cry.
With Ali, thoughā¦ I so thoroughly loved this man, both while I was growing up and as an adult. This really hurtsā¦