Socrates MacSporran

Socrates MacSporran
No I am not Chick Young, but I can remember when Scottish football was good

Saturday, 4 June 2016

The Greatest - Simply The Best




Muhammad Ali - one of the final pictures

He said it



Muhammad Ali – LEGEND

Born: 17 January, 1942

Died: 03 June, 2016, aged 74



DEATH, the opponent not even he could beat, has claimed "The Greatest", with the passing, aged 74, of Muhammad Ali, arguably the best-known man on the planet. Born Cassius Marcellus Clay, into poverty in Louisville, Kentucky, his unique boxing skills earned him a fortune which he squandered, had stolen from him and gave away.

He transcended his sport, until, long after he had retired, he was still recognised wherever he went. Previous Heavyweight Champions of the World had been honoured and recognised in the USA, Ali was recognised in every country. He was, rightly, named as the Greatest Sportsman of the 20th Century - he transcended his sport.

The legend has grown, how his bicycle was stolen when he was nine, he reported the theft, and was guided towards boxing by one of the Louisville policemen to whom the theft was reported. He had found his niche. He left high school barely able to read and write, but, after two Golden Gloves victories, he was, aged 18, selected to fight at light-heavyweight in the US Olympic Games team for the 1960 games in Rome.

The boxing writers covering the tournament had never seen anything like him. He carried his hands low, eschewed normal defence but his combination of dazzling footwork and incredibly fast hands carried him to the gold medal – a star had been born.

But, back home in segregated Kentucky, he found doors slammed in his face. He famously flung his gold medal into the Mississippi river, then turned professional, his career funded by a group of white Louisville businessmen.

Clay decided to be different. Modelling himself on professional wrestler Gorgeous George, he began to predict the round in which his opponent would be beaten, proclaiming what would happen with his doggrel poetry. The public loved him, because he lived up to his hype – he was box office, but, many bought tickets in the hope of seeing him beaten. White America wanted to see this "uppity nigger" put in his place.

Initially he had been sent to train under Archie Moore, one of the great light-heavyweight champions, but, the pair never gelled. The syndicate who backed him, called in Angelo Dundee and, for the remainder of his career, Ali worked with the Florida-based Dundee. It was a match made in heaven as Dundee forged the most-formidable fighting machine the world had seen.

Just four years after his Olympic victory, Clay was, in his own words: "heavyweight champion of the whole wide world", after sensationally dismantling the aura of menace and invincibility which had surrounded champion Sonny Liston. Liston, the so-called: "baddest man in the world", quit on his stool between the sixth and seventh rounds of their title fight – beaten and bemused by the combination of dazzling footwork and hand speed which Clay had unleashed on him.

Hardly had the championship belt been fastened round his waist than Clay announced his conversion to Islam and membership of the Black Muslims, one of the most-militant of the organisations which had arisen out of the cause of racial equality then tearing the USA apart. In some respects, the Black Muslims were the ISIS of their day and, by his loud and proud proclamation of his membership, Muhammad Ali, as he had renamed himself, was the most-hated man in America.

America sought to bring him down, and found a way by drafting him to fight in Vietnam. As ever, Ali had the response: "I aint got no quarrel with Vietnam, no Viet Cong ever called me nigger". It was a brilliant response, which made him even-more hated. It mattered little that he had already failed the US Army's intelligence test, he was called-up, but refused to fight. America's response was to ban him from boxing.

The ban lasted three years, but, crucially, these were the years between 25 and 28, the supposed peak years for a boxer. Barred from the sport he loved, Ali toured the world, he appeared on-stage and in films, he recorded songs, he kept himself in the public eye and, by his wonderful gift for self-promotion, he became, rather than rebel, a victim. America caved-in and restored his boxing licence.

But, the damage was done. Clay was a one-off. No heavyweight had ever danced round the ring as he did, his footwork – the Ali Shuffle as he dubbed it, was incredible; he had the hand speed of a middlewwight, and, he was merciless once he spotted a weakness.

No fighter ever "sold" himself as Ali did. In concert with his cornerman, "Bundini" Brown, Ali would boast of his prowess, how he would: "Float like a butterfly – sting like a bee", he scandalised the old-timers.

The post-ban Ali had lost the edge in his speed of hand and foot, the amazing physique, which had moved one top American sportswriter to say: "I want to be him for 24-hours, I have three men to beat-up and three women to impress", had grown less sleek. At six foot three and nearly 15 stones, he remained a formidable fighter, however.

Boxing, denied its main box office draw had sought alternatives. One had arisen in the shape of 1964 Olympic Champion Joe Frazier. "Smokin'Joe lacked Ali's physique and charisma, but, he was a formidale slugger, able to unleash torrents of blows. He had become Heavyweight Champion, Ali styled himself "The People's Champion", they had to meet, in what was dubbed: "The Fight of the Century" where else but the temple of boxing, New York's Madison Square Garden. The world had never seen pre-fight hype like it.

In the build-up, Ali taunted Frazier relentlessly, they nearly came to blows on a tv show. Half the world wanted to see Ali reclaim his crown, the other half wanted the champion to knock his head off. Could the fight live up to pre-match expectations?

It did, and more. They were all-square going into the 15th and final round, during which Frazier unleashed a mighty blow which dumped Ali on his backside, his face already swelling. Amazingly, he got up, beating the count, but, losing the fight. However, an unmatched rivalry had been born.

Ali reinvented himself, had his revenge over Frazier, then went after the new champion, George Foreman, who had demolished Frazier with a single punch. The African republic of Zaire won the right to stage their fight – "The Rumble in the Jungle" was set for its capital Kinshasa.

Many in boxing feared for the new 32-year-old Ali, as he faced a younger, taller and heavier opponent. But, in October, 1974, in the sweltering heat of an African night, he produced something so audacious as to stun the watchig world. For seven rounds he allowed the hardest puncher in the game to trap him on the ropes and pound him, but, he kept his head out of range, and took most of the blows on his arms. Then, sensing Foreman had punched himself out, in the eighth round, Ali went up onto his toes, went forward and knocked him out – he was Champion of the World again.

A third, deciding fight with Frazier had to happen, as Kilmarnock's own Hugh McIllvanney, Britain's greatest boxing writer wrote: "In their nineties, and in wheelchairs in a nursing home, these two would still produce a fantastic fight, such is the emnity". They did produce another wonderful fight, in 1975. "The Thrilla in Manila" the Philipenes, capital is now recognised as probably the greatest fight there has ever been. Over 14 pitiless rounds the two arch-protagonists punched themselves to a standstill. In the break between the 14th and the final round, Ali wanted to quit, Dundee was prepared to agree, then, they looked across the ring to see that Frazier, virtually boxing blind due to the damage Ali's precision punching had done to his eyes, was being retired by his cornerman. Both fighters had gone to the edge, but, Ali had won.

In truth, he was never the same boxer again. He lost and regained the title in two fights with Leroy Spinks, he fought on, long after he should have quit. He was ruthlessly demolished by former sparring partner Larry Holmes, then, after an embarrassing final defeat at the hands of the limited Trevor Berbeck, at nearly 40, he retired.

He had quit the Black Muslims for mainstream Islam in1975 and he now became a figure head for true Islam, preaching peace and tolerance. He began to do charity work, he became a global ambassador for the USA, his popularity growing all the while – then game the devastating news.thanks in no small measure to the damage boxing had inflicted on him, he was suffering from Parkinson's Disease.

He shambled, he slurred, his speech became difficult to understand, but, he fought his afflication with the same courage he had shown against Frazier. He could still stop the traffic everywher he went, he was loved. In 1996 he carried the Olympic flame into the stadium and lit the cauldron for the Atlanta Olympic Games, his appearance shocked the watching world, but, he was still Ali and the crowd rose to him, as they did again for the 2012 Games in London.

He went to Cuba on a peace mission, where he went into the ring for a sparring session with Teofilo Stevenson, the triple Olympic champion whom many had wanted to match against him. In those brief seconds, he shrugged aside his Parkinson's, got up on his toes and again danced the Ali Shuffle.

Ali went into near seclusion on his property in Arizona, still doing, albeit it slowly, his daily mileage of road running, devoutly praying and studying the Koran, he had found peace. In his younger days, he had sown his wild oats. Women had thrown themselves at him and he had caught them. He married four times, fathered two sons and seven daughters. He was generous to a fault, to so-called friends who fleeced him, but Lonnie, his fourth wife, who survives him, managed to gain control of his affairs and ensure his final years were financially comfortable, if difficult through the ravages of his illnesses.

A unique, extremely special man has gone – we will not see his likes again. Those of us who saw him box, either live or on TV were fortunate, he was, indeed, The Greatest.

 Ali - Champion of the whole wide world

If you wonder why a small, insignificant Scottish football blog is running this story today, well, it is simple - some people, some events are bigger than sport.

Rest in Peace Big Man - the world just got a whole lot darker

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