In Memoriam: Muhammad Ali

We live in an era where the backup point guard for the Detroit Pistons probably calls himself, “The Greatest” (I am being rhetorical; I have no knowledge of who the backup point guard for the Pistons even is).  Making a claim to being “The Greatest” is practically in the job description of NFL wide receivers.  What was unique about Muhammad Ali was this: he was right.

Ali practically created the blueprint of the modern athlete.  Braggadocious.  Self-promoting.  Transforming sport into theater.  Participating long after he should stop putting on a uniform (boxing trunks are a uniform, right?).  That describes 80% of all athletes in America today.  You can almost hear Ali’s voice when LeBron James uttered his famous, “not four, not five, not six, not seven rings. . .” speech.

But Ali was different.  Is different.  First, it was not an act for him; it was who he was.  It was developed over time (partly due to the fact that, according to ESPN, during the three years he was unable to box he made his living speaking at college campuses) but it came from inside him.  He wasn’t flamboyant in order to get attention.  He was flamboyant, end of story.

Second, there is a strong argument that he WAS “The Greatest.”  Until Mike Tyson he was the youngest heavyweight champion, and his victory over Sonny Liston was a hundred time more shocking than the Broncos defeating the Panthers in the last Super Bowl.  He was a 7-1 underdog.  A documentary at the NY Times website features a reporter who says he was told to be ready to go to the hospital nearest the arena after the fight because that where it was assumed Ali (then Clay) would end up after the fight.  Ali rocked Sonny Liston, and then rocked the world.

Ali held the title through a myriad of opponents until he met one he couldn’t beat with one punch—the US government.  Ali’s claim to be a conscientious objector to serving in the military because of his faith as a member of the Nation of Islam was denied and he was convicted of draft evasion.  After over three and a half years the case was thrown out by the Supreme Court.  Of all great athletes, the only comparable example is Ted Williams losing three prime years during World War II and another two for the Korean War.

Ali reclaimed the heavyweight crown twice more.  In his youth he used quickness and agility, something unheard of in the heavyweight class.  When he was older, he used strategy and guile.  His famous “rope-a-dope” strategy caused George Foreman to expend his energy punching Ali, who let the ring’s ropes absorb the energy, leaving Foreman vulnerable in later rounds.  Most of his later bouts—with Frazier, Foreman, Norton, or Sphinx – were epic pieces of ballet. 

I can’t even name the current heavyweight champion.  All I know is that a few weeks ago he lifted his shirt at a press conference, and ESPN’s Frank Isola said it was a sign of how far boxing has fallen when the champ raises his shirt and bears a resemblance to Seth Rogan. 

Modern athletes who aspire to be like Ali ultimately fail, because they lack his intelligence, his talent, his charisma, and his authenticity.  In this social media world we live in, with pampered athletes gaining fame and wealth at young ages, I don’t think there ever could be another athlete like Muhammad Ali. It’s too easy to create fake ones.

Rumble, young man, rumble.