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The very first memory I have that connects me to the sport of boxing is the one from late September back in 1975 when I found myself as an eight year old boy arguing with my older brother in our laundry room over which one of us would get to be the first to transfer the boxing themed iron-on decal that was in the Sunday edition of our local paper that week onto a tee-shirt. It was a colorful piece that featured the face of a man framed by a butterfly and a bee with some text underneath it. (I realized much later on that it was a means of drawing publicity to the then upcoming "Thrilla in Manila.")
I'm not even sure if I even knew exactly who the man in the photo was at that point in time but I figured anyone who was considered important enough to have an iron-on decal in the newspaper with his image on it must be worth having on my tee shirt.
From that day forward I began looking more into the man on that decal and what I found literally set into motion the events that would strongly influence me to becoming the man I am today.
Three years later, when I was eleven years old, I read his autobiography, "The Greatest," and much of what I took from that book has stayed with me to this very day. Like many of the untold amount of boxers out there in this world who gravitated towards boxing because of their interest in Muhammad Ali I, too, kicked off my boxing career in 1983 wearing the black and white Everlast trunks and the white shoes with the red tassels hanging off the sides that he made popular. I wrote poems in a notebook for my upcoming opponents, conducted interviews with myself in the bathroom mirror that saw me brag, boast and shout into a hairbrush held by an imaginary Howard Cosell and I even tried in privacy (with only mild success) to master the Ali Shuffle.
Ali's influence on myself and those of us in this world who follow him so religiously (affectionately known as "Aliologists") goes much deeper than brash talking and flashy boxing skills, however.
Take for example that fact that right now at the age off 44 years I can honestly say that the reason I have never taken in one illegal drug or even one drop of alcohol in my lifetime is directly related to the fact that when I read his autobiography at age 11 his revelation early in the book that he didn't drink alcohol or do drugs pierced my brain permanently. Having the greatest boxer in the world, the brashest and most celebrated and beloved, the man who could stop traffic in Times Square, tell me not drinking and drugging was the way to go was good enough for me. Even if I never became a boxer I am certain I would have followed his lead to where I am now. Definitely.
As far as what he represented in the boxing ring, we can debate for hours on end as to whether Ali would defeat the likes of Tyson, Holyfield, Lewis and the Klitschko brothers. Maybe, maybe not. But I do like to point out something often forgotten about the man known the world over as The Greatest.
When you review the participants of this game and their ultimate place in its history there are certain unseen intangibles that may or may not have been present within them that must be considered. That presence of them and the depths they reached if they exist must be considered as they go a long, long way towards deciding who is actually great and who is not.
Take heart for example. Proven heart? Where do you even begin when pointing out supernatural-like examples of Ali's unplanned and forced demonstrations of heart? The first Norton fight (where he fought on after suffering a broken jaw early on) and the Foreman fight certainly cover that trait. How about coming through the sixth round of the first Liston fight when he was temporarily blinded by some type of liniment that got in his eyes and forced him to brilliantly use his reflexes, boxing skills and survival instincts to befuddle the hard charging Liston until his vision cleared up a round or so later?
And if surviving the eleventh round of the first Frazier fight back in 1971 doesn't prove his heart to someone then that person just doesn't know what heart is.
How about Ali getting up before the referee could even start counting after getting dropped by that monster left hook from Smokin' Joe towards the end of the 15th? It's the 15th and final round, he's tired and weary, he's in only his third fight in almost four years and the eyes of the entire civilized world are on him. He gets violently dropped flat on his back by that huge left hook yet he doesn't even need more than a second or two to gather himself before popping back up to his feet. He doesn't need to lay there contemplating whether it's even worth it for him to rise again because he not only possesses the heart of a true warrior and a true champion but he also takes as great of a punch as anybody in the game, too. Despite the circumstances, he somehow appears to recover instantly. Guts, cojones, heart, coeur, machismo. Call it whatever you want to, any way you want to. Ali had it all in abundance in any language spoken anywhere on this earth.
How does he summon the will and the determination in that terrible heat of Manila back in October of 1975 to turn the jets on in the 14th round the third fight against Frazier (The Thrilla' In Manila) and string together amazingly fluid and fast multi punch combinations that repeatedly crash into the head of his equally weary foe. Now doing that in the fourteenth round of just about any fight is impressive enough. Doing that in the fourteenth round of a fight like that is utterly remarkable and almost unbelievable really. Add the intense Philippine heat to the fact that Frazier was on his chest the entire night, pushing him with relentless and constant pressure while smashing his arms and ribs and body with brutal shots. Ali was thirty-three years old and in his fifteenth year as a professional and it was his last great performance. Most know that just because they saw it or read about it. But under those circumstances, to gather up that type of will and determination to be able to let punches go like that in that heat after thirteen previous rounds of back and forth action with a determined warrior like Smokin' Joe Frazier? Trust me when I tell you. You do not see that type of heart exhibited on a regular basis.
And if withstanding the brutal body and head shots that Larry Holmes laid on him at the relatively ancient age of thirty-eight years without going down and/or quitting (Dundee stopped it, not Ali) didn't show you the toughness you seek then you are just one of those people who couldn't possibly understand the type of heart it actually takes to endure something like that.
You can talk about your Lamotta's, your Graziano's, the Marciano's and Zale's (and the Ward's, Gatti's, Pazienza's and Holyfield's, too) but don't mistake his prettiness for a lack of anything because both Cassius Clay and Muhammad Ali proved more than a few times that behind all the talking and bragging and ego was a heart and a level of toughness that was as big as that of any man that ever stepped into a squared ring.
Ever.
How about character? Proven character? Well, let me put it this way: If I have a young boxer, or even my own step sons, who need some guidance and I want to teach them about having iron strong character in the face of adversity? Tell them that you have to stand up to make a point you very much believe in even when you know there will be serious consequences? Teach those boys about sacrificing the good things sometimes so that maybe others will have some good things, too? Stand up strong, never wavering, when you are being made to do something that you just don't want to do...something that you don't believe to be morally correct? Just because everybody says you have to and the penalties will be severe if you don't? Something that you don't think is right? All you have to do is take the easy way out and all will be easy and OK?
It's no problem, really. I will just do what I already do now when I want to teach the kids I work with about those types of things. I will tell them all about Muhammad Ali.
In closing I would just like to say to Mr. Muhammad Ali, "Happy Birthday, Champ. I raise my glass of Green Tea in your honor, and I salute you."
ICE
I'm not even sure if I even knew exactly who the man in the photo was at that point in time but I figured anyone who was considered important enough to have an iron-on decal in the newspaper with his image on it must be worth having on my tee shirt.
From that day forward I began looking more into the man on that decal and what I found literally set into motion the events that would strongly influence me to becoming the man I am today.
Three years later, when I was eleven years old, I read his autobiography, "The Greatest," and much of what I took from that book has stayed with me to this very day. Like many of the untold amount of boxers out there in this world who gravitated towards boxing because of their interest in Muhammad Ali I, too, kicked off my boxing career in 1983 wearing the black and white Everlast trunks and the white shoes with the red tassels hanging off the sides that he made popular. I wrote poems in a notebook for my upcoming opponents, conducted interviews with myself in the bathroom mirror that saw me brag, boast and shout into a hairbrush held by an imaginary Howard Cosell and I even tried in privacy (with only mild success) to master the Ali Shuffle.
Ali's influence on myself and those of us in this world who follow him so religiously (affectionately known as "Aliologists") goes much deeper than brash talking and flashy boxing skills, however.
Take for example that fact that right now at the age off 44 years I can honestly say that the reason I have never taken in one illegal drug or even one drop of alcohol in my lifetime is directly related to the fact that when I read his autobiography at age 11 his revelation early in the book that he didn't drink alcohol or do drugs pierced my brain permanently. Having the greatest boxer in the world, the brashest and most celebrated and beloved, the man who could stop traffic in Times Square, tell me not drinking and drugging was the way to go was good enough for me. Even if I never became a boxer I am certain I would have followed his lead to where I am now. Definitely.
As far as what he represented in the boxing ring, we can debate for hours on end as to whether Ali would defeat the likes of Tyson, Holyfield, Lewis and the Klitschko brothers. Maybe, maybe not. But I do like to point out something often forgotten about the man known the world over as The Greatest.
When you review the participants of this game and their ultimate place in its history there are certain unseen intangibles that may or may not have been present within them that must be considered. That presence of them and the depths they reached if they exist must be considered as they go a long, long way towards deciding who is actually great and who is not.
Take heart for example. Proven heart? Where do you even begin when pointing out supernatural-like examples of Ali's unplanned and forced demonstrations of heart? The first Norton fight (where he fought on after suffering a broken jaw early on) and the Foreman fight certainly cover that trait. How about coming through the sixth round of the first Liston fight when he was temporarily blinded by some type of liniment that got in his eyes and forced him to brilliantly use his reflexes, boxing skills and survival instincts to befuddle the hard charging Liston until his vision cleared up a round or so later?
And if surviving the eleventh round of the first Frazier fight back in 1971 doesn't prove his heart to someone then that person just doesn't know what heart is.
How about Ali getting up before the referee could even start counting after getting dropped by that monster left hook from Smokin' Joe towards the end of the 15th? It's the 15th and final round, he's tired and weary, he's in only his third fight in almost four years and the eyes of the entire civilized world are on him. He gets violently dropped flat on his back by that huge left hook yet he doesn't even need more than a second or two to gather himself before popping back up to his feet. He doesn't need to lay there contemplating whether it's even worth it for him to rise again because he not only possesses the heart of a true warrior and a true champion but he also takes as great of a punch as anybody in the game, too. Despite the circumstances, he somehow appears to recover instantly. Guts, cojones, heart, coeur, machismo. Call it whatever you want to, any way you want to. Ali had it all in abundance in any language spoken anywhere on this earth.
How does he summon the will and the determination in that terrible heat of Manila back in October of 1975 to turn the jets on in the 14th round the third fight against Frazier (The Thrilla' In Manila) and string together amazingly fluid and fast multi punch combinations that repeatedly crash into the head of his equally weary foe. Now doing that in the fourteenth round of just about any fight is impressive enough. Doing that in the fourteenth round of a fight like that is utterly remarkable and almost unbelievable really. Add the intense Philippine heat to the fact that Frazier was on his chest the entire night, pushing him with relentless and constant pressure while smashing his arms and ribs and body with brutal shots. Ali was thirty-three years old and in his fifteenth year as a professional and it was his last great performance. Most know that just because they saw it or read about it. But under those circumstances, to gather up that type of will and determination to be able to let punches go like that in that heat after thirteen previous rounds of back and forth action with a determined warrior like Smokin' Joe Frazier? Trust me when I tell you. You do not see that type of heart exhibited on a regular basis.
And if withstanding the brutal body and head shots that Larry Holmes laid on him at the relatively ancient age of thirty-eight years without going down and/or quitting (Dundee stopped it, not Ali) didn't show you the toughness you seek then you are just one of those people who couldn't possibly understand the type of heart it actually takes to endure something like that.
You can talk about your Lamotta's, your Graziano's, the Marciano's and Zale's (and the Ward's, Gatti's, Pazienza's and Holyfield's, too) but don't mistake his prettiness for a lack of anything because both Cassius Clay and Muhammad Ali proved more than a few times that behind all the talking and bragging and ego was a heart and a level of toughness that was as big as that of any man that ever stepped into a squared ring.
Ever.
How about character? Proven character? Well, let me put it this way: If I have a young boxer, or even my own step sons, who need some guidance and I want to teach them about having iron strong character in the face of adversity? Tell them that you have to stand up to make a point you very much believe in even when you know there will be serious consequences? Teach those boys about sacrificing the good things sometimes so that maybe others will have some good things, too? Stand up strong, never wavering, when you are being made to do something that you just don't want to do...something that you don't believe to be morally correct? Just because everybody says you have to and the penalties will be severe if you don't? Something that you don't think is right? All you have to do is take the easy way out and all will be easy and OK?
It's no problem, really. I will just do what I already do now when I want to teach the kids I work with about those types of things. I will tell them all about Muhammad Ali.
In closing I would just like to say to Mr. Muhammad Ali, "Happy Birthday, Champ. I raise my glass of Green Tea in your honor, and I salute you."
ICE
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