Muhammad Ali: A Tribute to the Greatest (19 page)

HARTMUT SCHERZER [A GERMAN JOURNALIST WHO MET CASSIUS CLAY AT THE ROME OLYMPICS]:
He seemed like a nice young man, but we didn’t pay that much attention to him. It’s not like any of us knew that someday Cassius Clay would become Muhammad Ali.

DICK SCHAAP [JOURNALIST, AUTHOR, AND TELEVISION COMMENTATOR]:
I went down to Louisville to do a story about him for the
Saturday Evening Post
in late 1960. It was the first major magazine article that was ever done about him, and we spent a lot of time together. Louisville was a Jim Crow city in 1960; so when we went out to eat, we had to go to the black section of town. I was there for four or five days. Every night, we went to the same restaurant. It had an eight-ounce steak and a sixteen-ounce steak on the menu. Every night, he ordered a thirty-two-ounce steak, and every night they gave it to him. Finally, after two or three nights, I asked him, “How do you know they have a thirty-two-ounce steak? It’s not on the menu.” And he told me, “When I found out you were coming, I went in and told the people here to order them for me.” But if there was a moment when I really totally fell in love with this kid, it was when we were driving down the main street in Louisville. We stopped for a traffic light, and there was a very pretty girl standing on the corner. A white girl. I turned to Cassius, which was his name then, and said, “Boy, she’s pretty.” He grabbed me, and said, “You’re crazy, man. You can get electrocuted for that; a Jew looking at a white girl in Kentucky.”

DON ELBAUM [MATCHMAKER AND BOXING PROMOTER]:
My first encounter with Ali was when I represented Sonny Banks. His manager was a big car dealer in Detroit; his trainer was Luthor Burgess; and I was an advisor. We looked at films of Clay, and one thing we saw—like everybody else, I might add—was that he had the bad habit of leaning back from punches. So we worked for a month on the idea that, when Clay leaned back, Sonny would take an extra step forward, get on top of him, and throw the hook. Sonny could really whack. Sure enough; round one, Sonny hits him with a left hook and Clay goes down. As time goes by, it’s a nice feeling to know that my guy was the first guy to put him down.

ANGELO DUNDEE:
Muhammad was always susceptible to the left hook; against Sonny Banks, against Henry Cooper, against Joe Frazier, whoever. You see, no matter how great a fighter is, he always has flaws. Muhammad’s problem was that left hook. He always had a problem evading it.

A. J. LIEBLING [WRITING IN THE
NEW YORKER
ABOUT CASSIUS CLAY BEING DECKED BY SONNY BANKS]:
The poet went down.

MICHAEL KATZ [SPORTSWRITER]:
In the early years, you couldn’t touch him. The only legitimate criticism—at least people thought it was legitimate—was that he had no chin because he went down against Henry Cooper; he went down against Sonny Banks. We didn’t know how good his chin was because, except for the few times he got caught off balance, nobody was hitting him.

HAROLD CONRAD [FIGHT PUBLICIST]:
I had a gimmick worked out with Ali. It was a magic trick we did together. He’d be someplace with someone and he’d tell them about a friend of his named Mr. Wizard who had mental telepathy powers. Mr. Wizard was me. Ali would tell this person to pick any card out of a deck of cards, and if they telephoned Mr. Wizard, he’d be able to identify the card they were holding. So they’d pick a card—say, the four of clubs. Then Ali would telephone, and we had this code. As soon as I answered the phone, Ali would say, “Could I speak to Mr. Wizard.” I’d go, “Clubs, diamonds, hearts, spades.” And when I hit the right suit, Ali would say, “Hello, this is Muhammad.” Then I’d start counting. “Two, three, four, five,” all the way up to ace. And when I hit the right card, Ali would say, “Mr. Wizard; I’ve got someone here who doesn’t believe in you. I’m gonna put them on the phone, so you can show them how powerful you are.” It worked every time. No one could ever figure out how we did it.

MUHAMMAD ALI [ON JOHN F. KENNEDY]:
I liked him. He tried to do good, and I liked his personality. When he was killed, I felt empty. I got a chill all over. I frightened me that something like that could happen to the president of the entire country right in the center of the country.

BOOKER JOHNSON [ENTOURAGE MEMBER]:
Malcolm X is the one who really inspired him to become a Muslim. Malcolm was the most eloquent speaker we had among us, and in those days he was telling us something new. He gave us courage, a feeling of independence, and this is what inspired Ali. But Ali had to be taught the religion slowly. You don’t just give a baby steak because, if you do, it will choke him.

DICK SCHAAP:
One night—and this goes back to when Ali was Cassius Clay—I took him and his parents on a drive around Manhattan. It was snowing and, somewhere downtown on Second Avenue, we stopped for gas. The station attendant was a huge black man; six-foot-six, maybe taller, real mean-looking. While he was putting gas in the tank, he was wiping snow off the windshield. Finally, I turned to Cassius and said, “Tell him that’s good enough; close the gas tank, and we’ll get going.” So Clay leaned out the window and said, “Hey, man; that’s good enough.” And the guy answered, “Who’s doing this; you or me?” At that point, all Cassius said back was, “You’re the boss, man. You’re the boss.” I couldn’t let that pass; so as soon as he pulled his head back inside the car, I said, “Hey, wait a minute. All night long, you’ve been telling me you’re the greatest fighter who ever lived; you’re going to be heavyweight champion of the world; you’re not afraid of Sonny Liston. How can you let this guy talk to you like that?” And Cassius told me, “That man looks meaner than Sonny Liston.”

BETTY SHABAZZ [WIFE OF MALCOLM X]:
Cassius Clay asked my husband if he would bring our whole family down to Miami Beach [for the first Liston fight]. It was supposed to be our anniversary present. I was expecting, so my husband had to do some prodding to get me on a plane and to get our three little girls ready, but of course we went. Cassius was a nervous wreck. He had a great deal of apprehension about fighting Sonny Liston. But my husband talked to him like a little brother and helped him conquer his fear. And this was after Malcolm had been cautioned not to go. He was told by Elijah Muhammad that, if he went, it would be on his own as an individual, not representing the Nation of Islam; and that, if he had good sense, he would stay away because there was no way Cassius Clay could win. But Malcolm felt that, if Cassius Clay was totally focused on the fight, he could win. And one of the things he said to me was, “If he loses, he should not be alone.”

ATTALLAH SHABAZZ [DAUGHTER OF MALCOLM X]:
I remember going down to Florida to celebrate Muhammad’s birthday in January of 1964. The fight against Liston hadn’t happened yet. But there was a birthday cake. If it had been a wedding cake, there would have been a bride and groom on top. But on this cake, there was the figure of Ali [then Cassius Clay] made out of sugar with both arms raised in victory standing over Sonny Liston.

SOL SILVERMAN [THE ATTORNEY APPOINTED BY THE GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA TO HEAD A COMMITTEE INVESTIGATING PROFESSIONAL BOXING]:
The proposed Cassius Clay versus Sonny Liston heavyweight title fight is a dangerous mismatch which could result in grave injury to the young challenger. Such mismatches not only endanger the overmatched boxer, but degrade boxing from a great sport to a sordid racket.

CUS D’AMATO:
I think that Clay has the equipment with which to beat Liston, provided it’s used intelligently. Clay has speed and maneuverability. And if he employs an unpredictable strategy in applying that speed and maneuverability, I think he’ll be able to confuse Liston and frustrate him and, after accomplishing this, be able to hit him with the kind of punches necessary to win the fight.

DAVID HALBERSTAM:
I remember being very nervous the night Cassius Clay fought Sonny Liston. Clay seemed so young and vulnerable. And I remember caring about what would happen to him, being frightened that a dark shadow would fall over him, because Liston seemed to be what he was supposed to be.

JACK MCKINNEY [SPORTSWRITER]:
The problems Clay had with his vision in the first Liston fight were no accident. The two toughest opponents that Liston faced prior to Clay were Eddie Machen and Cleveland Williams. Machen lost a twelve-round decision to Liston and complained afterward that he’d been bothered by an astringent in his eyes. But he’d fought so poorly that no one believed him. Everyone thought it was just an alibi. And Cleveland Williams gave Liston all kinds of trouble in the first round. I was at that fight, and after the first round there seemed to be a lot of confusion in Sonny’s corner. In fact, he was late coming out for the second round because his mouthpiece wasn’t in. He knocked Williams out in that round. And after the fight, Williams was obviously having trouble seeing. He kept rubbing his eyes. Later on, I kidded Sonny’s cornerman, Joe Polino who was responsible for the mouthpiece, about the confusion. Joe told me, “Someday I’ll explain it to you.” Well, I got my explanation at the first Clay-Liston fight. If you look at a film of what went on in Liston’s corner between the third and fourth rounds of that fight, you’ll see Polino in the ring with Willie Reddish [Liston’s trainer] standing behind him, blocking everyone else’s view. And Polino is at Sonny’s knees, rubbing something on his gloves.

NEW YORK HERALD TRIBUNE
EDITORIAL ENTITLED “AND THEN THERE WAS CASSIUS” [PUBLISHED ON FEBRUARY 27, 1964; TWO DAYS AFTER CASSIUS CLAY DETHRONED SONNY LISTON]:
The clicking shutters; the stampeding crowd; the excited chomp chomp as sportswriters ate their words by the thousands. It was a moment of glory straight from the story-books, as the one who had seemed an impossibly outmatched underdog stood victor over the champion; a moment that might have been wrapped in red, white and blue bunting and warmed the hearts of generations to come. But then there was the voice of Cassius: “I am the greatest! I am the king! I am the greatest”—shrilling to the world in tones that seemed to echo a thousand little Hitlers through all the ages of man, and the magic was gone. Instead of a champion, there was a boastful bully; instead of a sport, a spectacle. And it was sad. For one felt the loss, not only of what might have been a fighter’s finest moment, but the loss of what might have been a hero.

MALCOLM X:
Brother Cassius will never do anything that will in any way tarnish or take away from his image as the heavyweight champion of the world. He is trying his best to live a clean life and project a clean image. But despite this, you will find that the press is constantly trying to paint him as something other than what he actually is. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t drink. He’s never been involved in any trouble. His record is clean. If he was white, they’d be referring to him as the all-American boy.

BOOKER JOHNSON:
Ali’s father felt that he should be the administrator of his son’s affairs. He and I used to argue. I’d tell him, “This is a different situation. You’re dealing with lawyers and accountants, and your son has to have the intellectual equivalent on his side in order to deal successfully with them.” After a while, he settled down and quit talking that he should be the administrator. But for a long time, he felt that he was cut off from his own flesh and blood. It was a shame, because it should be a wonderful feeling for a man to know that his son is such a wonderful achiever and the most famous person in the world. What you should do under those circumstances is be proud of your son and enjoy his glory. But Mr. Clay blew a lot of that feeling. He missed out on a lot of the glory that he could have enjoyed, because he didn’t understand that his son was an organization, his son was an institution. The job of administrator was something that he just wasn’t equipped to handle.

ROBERT LIPSYTE [SPORTSWRITER]:
In the 1950s and 1960s, people talked about sports as one of the few areas where black Americans could make progress. But the truth is, sports was a bastion of the old order. Black athletes could become stars, but they had to do it on the terms of an existing ruling class. They had to be grateful. They shouldn’t go out with white women. They were expected to be dutiful and modest. These were men who oftentimes were egocentric, narcissistic, and very vain. But they knew the drill of dealing with the press. Never talk about yourself; always talk about the team. And now, along comes Muhammad Ali, who breaks all the rules and challenges that order. He’s immodest. He’s not sufficiently grateful to white America. He says what he thinks. And even though he’s celebrated and people are fawning over him, he knows that, as far as white America is concerned, if he were still Cassius Marcellus Clay and not the heavyweight champion of the world, he’d be parking cars.

ANGELO DUNDEE:
I always let Cassius be Cassius and Muhammad be Muhammad.

ROCKY MARCIANO:
It’s a very bad situation now, because there’s a lack of respect for the present champion and that creates a lack of respect for all past champions. Nobody questions my fights; they were all tough ones. But people just don’t treat you the same way since he came along.

DICK GREGORY [POLITICAL ACTIVIST AND HUMAN RIGHTS ADVOCATE]:
A lot of people were afraid because he changed his name. You can’t change your name. It’s an awful thing to do to change your name. You don’t believe that? Ask Coca-Cola. Tell them to change their name.

MUHAMMAD ALI:
God’s got me here for something. I can feel it. I was born for everything that I’m doing now.

ANGELO DUNDEE:
Ali changed boxing. For a hundred years, the only thing fighters would say was, “I do the fighting; my manager does the talking.” Then Muhammad came along, saying, “Hey, I do the talking. I’m the star. Nobody else talks for me.”

ROBERT LIPSYTE:
Ali understood television. He understood the show, whether it was the poetry, the pre-fight weigh-in, or the fight itself. He was a born showman, brilliant at dramatizing himself. Whether he would have been the same phenomenon without television is hard to say. But he understood what television wanted; that instead of someone coming down, smiling, and shaking hands nicely for still photographers, television wanted the provocateur.