Ali. Now There Was A Man.

When I was a kid, Muhammad Ali was a ubiquitous media figure, whether he was fighting or being interviewed or selling cologne on the television. I missed the early years of his ds_24ali353_20120724220624672219-300x0career, and only learned about the political aspects of his fame much later. (a link to a fantastic article on Ali follows my post).  As I encountered him, he was just one of the pantheon, a star of stars. Race, religion, and politics never entered into the equation any more than they did when I thought of my other childhood heroes: Willie Stargell, Mean Joe Green, and Mr. Rogers. I never realized until later just how bright Ali shined, the star among stars.  Like many of my generation, we looked back on Ali with new interest long after he’d faded from public view, after he returned to the world stage at the Atlanta Olympics in 1996, his trembling arm raised to alilight the Olympic flame, a man refusing to be bowed by age or the horribly ironic Parkinson’s that clawed at his body. I’ll never forget sitting in a restaurant near Wilson, Wyoming, drinking beer and eating pizza with friends, watching The Greatest ascend to light the torch, my eyes moist with respect and admiration. I cannot think of a person more deserving of the title, American Hero. He surely was that–as flawed as the rest of us, but possessed of a drive and determination that not only made him literally the greatest fighter of all time, but which drove him to risk everything for his beliefs, even when that meant potentially losing his career as well as his freedom. It is rare for us to see men who even come close to Ali’s stature. More is the pity.

http://www.sport-magazine.co.uk/features/muhammad-misunderstood

Advertisements

About JunkChuck

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.
This entry was posted in Commentary, Narrative/Journal and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Ali. Now There Was A Man.

  1. Haylee says:

    I was lucky enough to meet him, some twenty years ago. Still remains one of my favourite memories. And although it was clear to see he was struggling, his determination to not give up (never mind all the other great things he did) is something we should all try to live by. Very sad to see him say goodnight.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. He was a true hero. I man of independent thought and action.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. lorigreer says:

    He was definitely a man of his convictions. I have so much respect for him.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Arkenaten says:

    Aside from his fights, his appearance on Parkinson is a memory that will remain. At one stage he was considered the most recognizable human being on the planet.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s