Crunch Time
The world lost another icon last weekend.
I had just gotten home from the Cheney High School commencement ceremony when I heard that former three-time heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali, born Cassius Clay, passed away at 74 years old. According to reports, his death was attributed to septic shock. Ali’s daughter, Hana Ali, said his heart continued to beat for 30 minutes after his brain stopped functioning. I guess that gives new meaning to the phrase “heart of a champion.”
People across the world mourned Ali’s passing, including a who’s who of celebrities, athletes and politicians. The UFC produced a nice tribute video to Ali, with president Dana White saying the former boxing champion “changed the face of combat sports forever.”
I consider Ali a hero of mine, which may sound strange since his boxing career was over before I was born. My introduction to Ali began with my stepfather, who is a combat sports fan and told me stories about the Champ’s fights over the years, including his infamous brawl with George Foreman in 1974, also known as the “Rumble in the Jungle.”
I could go on for days listing the accolades Ali acquired over his boxing career, but those can easily be found on the Internet — or in his autobiography “The Greatest: My Own Story” if you want to hear it straight from the man himself. Writer Thomas Hauser’s book “Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times” is also a good read.
Ali wasn’t just a good fighter in the ring — his performances were a work of art. His hands and footwork could be described as watching poetry in motion. Heavyweight fighters are mainly known for their power and strength, but Ali’s bread-and-butter was his speed, durability and “rope-a-dope” style.
Ali also captivated crowds with his poetic predictions of when he would knock out opponents. He wasn’t the first fighter to talk trash, but took it to a new level. I actually recited his pre-fight promo against Sonny Liston — when he was still known as Clay — for a philosophy class.
The poem began with, “Clay comes out to meet Liston and Liston starts to retreat. If Liston goes back an inch farther, he’ll end up in a ringside seat.”
Like many celebrities, Ali was controversial at times, particularly when he converted to Islam and changed his name to Ali, and he refused induction in the U.S. Army to fight in the Vietnam War in 1966 because it went against his beliefs. He also fought against the poor treatment of African Americans and was a prominent figure during the Civil Rights movement.
During the UFC’s video, White noted that it was ironic how Ali’s stance on the Vietnam War and religious beliefs made him look “anti-American” at the time, but he would later be considered an American icon.
But Ali was more than just a silver-tongued statesman of the Sweet Science. In his later years he became a humanitarian, a philanthropist and a great human being.
One of the places I hope to visit in the future is the Muhammad Ali Center in Louisville that was built as a tribute to Ali. According to its website, the center “promotes respect, hope, and understanding, and to inspire adults and children everywhere to be as great as they can be.”
As much as I’ve loved Ali’s pre-fight promos, one of my favorite quotes of his is “I wish people would love everybody else the way they love me. It would be a better world.”
Even after he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and his health declined, Ali could still capture an audience’s attention and his smile could light up a room.
The word icon gets thrown around a lot, but that is what Ali was — an icon.
A few days ago some friends were trying to compare current mixed martial arts fighters to Ali. I told them there isn’t anyone in MMA that can match the impact Ali had on the world, not in this lifetime anyways. Perhaps never.
Ali was one of a kind and there will never be another person like him.
Al Stover can be reached at [email protected].
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