The Greatest: Muhammad Ali

“As Clay’s vision cleared, his confidence grew. Everything he had learned in his brief ring career, from the neighborhood gym in Louisville to his training as a pro, all came together. Suddenly it was Clay who was the master, the toreador, and Liston the clumsy buffoon.”

Myers prefaces the biography with a brief account of his shocking win over champion Sonny Liston in February 1964, when Cassius Clay went from being a brash and talented youngster to legend in the making. Myers hints at the story that prefaces this moment by referring obliquely to “[e]verything he had learned,” thus aiming to engage the reader in the ensuing backstory.

“The young man from the segregated South who was used to being banned from certain restaurants and parks because he was black, was now being celebrated. […] Before the Olympics and the gold medal, Clay had glimpsed the kind of attention a famous boxer could receive. When he returned he was getting much of the same attention. At eighteen, the world seemed his for the taking.”

This passage communicates the suddenness of Clay’s transition to national celebrity, particularly as Myers emphasizes his age. Once millions of Americans saw a gold medal draped around his neck in Rome (especially after beating someone from a communist country during the height of the Cold War), he immediately became a source of universal interest, and Clay would prove more than eager to lap up the attention.

“The best fighters are invariably those who can most easily break down the barriers of control we have all been taught, who can bring a rage to the ring, a willingness to smash a man into unconsciousness, to see him fallen and bleeding on the canvas. To fight on a professional level you have to want to hurt people. You have to want to see the helpless look in a fighter’s eyes as you send yet another punch in his direction. Professional boxing is a sport of blood and pain and more pain. It is a sport in which naked brutality is the norm. If a fighter doesn’t love it, he needs to be in a different place.”

Ali succeeded as a boxer in part because he was capable of utter ruthlessness when an opponent was vulnerable. Meyers uses vivid, violent language to convey this, such as his comment on the “blood and pain.” This passage establishes The Brutality of Boxing, for which the biography maintains awe throughout.

“Cassius was maturing into manhood. Like all young Americans he saw the racial conflicts throughout the country. He saw more and more young men of his own age question the country’s involvement in the Vietnam War. Many older Americans did not know what to make of this younger generation. Nor did they know what to make of a young man running around saying that he was the greatest.”

Ali came to prominence during a time of extraordinary upheaval, particularly the civil rights movement and the Vietnam War. Yet his proud and confrontational posture came to embody the youthful rebelliousness of the 1960s and propelled Ali’s legend beyond that era into the present day. Myers uses the refrain “he saw” to emphasize this, as he characterizes Ali as an alert and active person existing at The Intersection of Sports and Politics.

“During this chaotic period, America expected Cassius Clay to be nonpolitical. He was an athlete, a boxer, an amusing man-child who should go on entertaining the public with his antics. It was not to be.”

Clay was entering into prominence at a time when so many aspects of American politics and culture were coming into question, from its commitment to freedom at home to its fixation on anticommunism abroad. Clay, soon to be Muhammad Ali, would help lead a new generation of athletes using their platform to challenge the status quo and demand social change.

“Clay attracted a lot of young Black people who were becoming disillusioned with the civil rights movement. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of nonviolence for blacks seemed futile against people bent on committing violent acts against black churches and children. African Americans often took Clay’s actions as an expression of race pride. His references to himself as ‘beautiful’ inspired young African Americans and become the impetus of the ‘Black is Beautiful’ movement.”

In the 1960s, many criticized Martin Luther King, Jr., on the grounds that he was seeking respectability for Black people on terms that had long ago been determined by white people. Myers juxtaposes his ideology with the violence of white supremacists using the words “philosophy” and “violent acts,” which creates a contrasting image of a cerebral man and a physical opponent. This passage also establishes the biography’s thematic point that Black Is Beautiful.

“In an interview for the April 10 [1967] edition of Sports Illustrated, Ali was asked how he felt about the Vietnam War. ‘Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs’ he asked.”

Having first encountered him as a young braggart with colorful rhymes predicting how long his next fight would last, much of America was not quite ready for Ali to take a stand against the Vietnam War when athletes (especially Black athletes) were expected to stay quiet. Myers includes Ali’s most crude descriptions, such as “drop bombs and bullets on brown people,” to characterize his convictions in his political beliefs.

“Some [young black athletes] advised the young boxer to go into the army. It would be better than jail, they reasoned, and he would maintain his status as heavyweight champion. The feeling of many of the athletes prior to meeting with Ali was that he was a youth being taken advantage of by the Nation of Islam. However, after the meeting, they left with the realization that he was indeed young, but firm in his convictions and willing to live with the consequences of his actions.”

Myers leaves the group of athletes anonymous in this passage, describing them as “some” or “many.” Their anonymity is juxtaposed with Ali’s “firm” identity. This juxtaposition suggests that Ali rose to greatness exactly because he remained firm in his personal convictions and did not listen to the anonymous masses who advised him. Ali did not reform the system but instead transcended it, and so he made everyone play by his rules rather than play by someone else’s.

“To most black Muslims, separation was merely speaking the truth about what was happening and lacked practical meaning. If a black man worked for a white man and had no social contact with him, was never invited to his home or to his church, then why should he not formalize the arrangement by calling it separation? If a black man’s life was not considered valuable to whites, then why should he seek to integrate?”

The Nation of Islam was considered by many white people to be a racist organization. However, at the core of their political message was a recognition that the races had never been equal in America and never would be without a major shift in the balance of social power. Myers presents their arguments in a series of rhetorical questions, thus prompting the reader to decide their own feelings about the Nation’s controversial ideas.

“Ali had a unique insight into one popular aspect of boxing. Fighters often saw themselves as very macho, and the fight business as a sport for men of their kind. Ali looked at boxing as pure entertainment. His antics were those of an entertainer, and he knew exactly what he was doing with them. […] Even Ali’s relationship with the press was that of an entertainer. He avoided those reporters who kept trying to pry for insights into his relationship with the Nation of Islam. But reporters who appreciated Ali’s entertainment value were allowed in his camp.”

Ali was undoubtedly a product of the 1960s, and while this most often associates him with civil rights and protests against the Vietnam War, Myers points out that he was also a major output of the television era. Where previous generations of athletes had to operate through the press to reach an audience, Ali’s larger-than-life personality and striking looks were right there on the screen for everyone to see. Ali was able to make this relatively new medium his own.

“When the pain comes, it can be excruciating. A two-hundred-point heavyweight at the top of his form can deliver a devastating blow. A good single blow to the face can break the neck of an ordinary person. Those watching on television or at ringside can scream at a fighter who lies helplessly against the ropes or who has stumbled heavily to the canvas, to get back into the fight. But few fight fans have ever been hit with even a glancing blow from a real fighter. They don’t know the courage it takes to continue when the body is screaming to give up.”

Myers explores the way the human body is not designed for boxing. He uses language usually reserved for hyperbole, such as “devastating blow” or “break the neck,” and yet emphasizes that this is not hyperbole but reality for a boxer. This stark language conveys The Brutality of Boxing.

“To Liston, Ali was just annoying. Patterson’s dislike for Ali was based on his idea of what Ali represented. But Liston and Patterson had already gained their championships and their places in history when they first ran into Ali. Liston was the menacing thug, the baddest man in the house, a role he relished. Patterson was Mr. Nice Guy, a likeable man with excellent skills. Frazier was still fighting for respect. He didn’t like it when Ali called him ugly or stupid. He also didn’t like the idea that Ali was violating a basic concept of fighting: to always show respect for your opponent.”

Frazier considered himself a fighter’s fighter, eager to prove his prowess in the ring, and so he took Ali’s trash talk as a personal affront. Myers’s language in this section is critical and accusatory, mirroring Frazier’s opinions instead of Ali’s, as he claims that Ali was “violating a basic concept.” This is a rare, critical moment in the text in which Ali is not presented as an undisputable hero but as a rounded character with flaws.

“Ali had lost to Joe Frazier, but, to many, he was still champion. For young people he was the voice that spoke against Vietnam when thousands of their brothers were dying in a war that few understood. He was the voice of youth as no other boxer had ever been—brash, outspoken, courageous. Ali, even into his thirties, looked younger than other fighters. […] [I]f black was truly beautiful, it was Muhammad Ali, in his form and in his style, who personified that beauty.”

Ali’s loss to Frazier was not controversial, but in the broader context of Ali’s story, his loss meant far less than his having returned to the ring and put on a bravura performance against a younger, hard-charging champion. Myers explicitly connects Ali’s legend to the idea that Black Is Beautiful, making the biography transcend the limits of boxing.

“Above all, Ali was a fighter […] he took the punishment, bore the pain when it was the only way he could win, and endured when others would have failed. He knew what the sacrifice meant. And he especially knew what it meant to stay in the game that always been meant for younger, faster, stronger, men.”

Myers builds tension in the narrative as it is time for Ali to prove himself against a young upstart. Beating Liston would make Ali a star, but beating Foreman would make him a legend. Myers piles adjectives together to describe Foreman—“younger, faster, stronger”—mimicking the relentlessness of the punches in the fight.

“‘Ali, bumbaye! Ali, bumbaye!’ The crowd chanted whenever they saw Ali jogging along the highway. It meant, simply, ‘Ali, kill him!’ Here were two black men, two men of African descent, fighting in Africa. But Ali was considered the real black champion, and the darker Foreman represented the enemy.”

Ali’s racial politics could be complicated, with his fights against Black fighters often turning into disputes over who was more authentically Black. Fighting in Africa, especially a recently decolonized state like Zaire, raised the stakes even more. This passage highlights The Intersection of Sports and Politics, as Myers suggests that support for a sportsperson often transcends physical ability and presents a microcosm of political issues—in this case, international conceptions of Black power.

“No one had seen this before, a fighter standing still and letting a ferocious puncher unleash the full fury of his blows. Foreman saw Ali cringe and he knew he had hurt him. ‘And then he looked at me,’ Foreman said, ‘he had that look in his eyes like he was saying I’m not going to let you hurt me.’”

Myers uses direct quotes throughout the biography to lend authenticity to his narrative and credibility to his narrative since eyewitness accounts reinforce his dramatic narratives of the fights. In this case, Foreman’s quote reinforces Myers’s discussion of the fight through Foreman’s eyes as he “saw Ali cringe.”

“‘That old Clay is crazy,’ Frazier claimed in a 1971 interview with Sports Illustrated. ‘He’s something else. He goes around the country, preaching that so-called Black talk. He’s a phony. You know what I mean. He calls people ugly. Now what does that have to do with anything?’”

Ali’s nemesis Joe Frazier did not necessarily have a problem with Ali’s politics. He simply could not understand how Ali could claim to be an advocate for the Black community while also treating Frazier so cruelly, questioning his own Blackness and his manhood. However, Myers uses the word “claimed” to cast doubt over Frazier’s opinions; the biographical narrative voice therefore still glorifies Ali while Frazier criticizes him.

“After the Thrilla in Manila, Ali and Frazier exchanged expressions of respect and amazement for the other’s physical stamina and courage. Ali left the fight with even more respect as a ring warrior than he had previously enjoyed. But people were wondering how much more he could take.”

Myers frequently uses militaristic language when describing boxers, in this case using the term “warrior.” This language emphasizes The Brutality of Boxing. It also means that Ali’s boxing reflects military campaigns on a wider scale as discussed in the biography, including the Vietnam War, suggesting that Ali, too, was waging his own war.

“Ali’s new ‘style’ was based on raw courage, a courage he had shown all his life. As twelve-year-old Cassius Clay in Louisville, he had taken up fighting with Joe Martin, putting himself in harm’s way at an early age. He mastered his fear of pain and accepted the discipline needed to become a champion.”

Myers notes how Ali’s fighting style went through profound changes as he aged, but he also notes a consistent thread of courage that informed Ali’s life both inside and outside the ring. The same psychological wherewithal that enabled Ali to withstand the stripping of his title and the threat of prison ended up giving him the courage to absorb blows from Foreman and Frazier; in both instances, he was confident that his mental toughness would outlast his opponent.

“Ali’s decline as a fighter was inevitable. The man who loved boxing held on to the sport too long, gave too much credence to the will that had sustained him for so long. At Ali’s final fight, the bout against [Trevor] Berbick, a sportswriter turned to Wali ‘Blood’ Muhammad, Ali’s longtime bodyguard, and said, ‘he’s getting hurt, Blood.’ ‘That’s right, he is,’ was the answer.”

Myers suggests that it was only a matter of time before the ravages of time and the sport of boxing caught up with Ali so that he lost his last fight to a middling contender. While in the first sentence, he refers to Ali as “Ali,” in the second sentence, he refers to him as “[t]he man who loved boxing” to suggest that his identity revolves around this sport, hence conveying the scale of the loss for Ali.

“A close-up of Muhammad Ali in 1996 showed an impassive face. The sparkle that had illuminated his expression as he mugged for the cameras of Life magazine was absent. His hands trembled as he lit the Olympic torch. He then moved slowly, rigidly, away from center stage. Still, the crowd cheered. People were quiet in front of their television sets. Some were moved to tears. Was this the same Muhammad Ali who had stunned the world in 1964 with his knockout of Sonny Liston?”

It is implicit that the rhetorical question that ends this passage comes from the perspective of Myers as an adult after viewing Ali as his hero as a child. Myers suggests that the answer is yes, he is the same person, but not just in a literal sense; he is also the same person capable of inspiring awe and wonder in his audience, whether as a young man approaching the height of his powers or as an old and sick man with one last display of dignity and pride before a global audience.

“There is hope that one day [Parkinson’s] disease will be conquered. If and when that happens, it will probably be because people like Muhammad Ali are fighters. Ali is willing to fight this last, ferocious battle not simply because it will help him, but because it is the right thing to do. And because doing the right thing is what Muhammad Ali has always been about.”

Just as Myers connected Ali’s boxing career to his social activism, here he also connects it to his struggles with Parkinson’s. Just as fight fans could feel like Ali was fighting for them when he defeated an opponent and hoisted a championship belt, his own battle to survive and raise awareness for his condition was about far more than his own health. Myers uses more militaristic diction such as “ferocious battle” and “fighters” to reinforce the comparison between Parkinson’s and boxing and suggest that Ali’s experience of his illness is as impressive as his career.

“People who interviewed Ali throughout his long career rarely seemed to recognize that not only did Ali represent, for better or worse, all of black America, but that he understood he did. Young black boys and girls across the country wanted to say, like Muhammad Ali, that they were pretty.”

Myers sets his own work apart from that of others in this passage by saying that other profilers of Ali “rarely seemed to recognize” his messages. He therefore characterizes his own work as more authoritative and insightful. He suggests that since they were often inclined to dismiss Ali as a braggart, the media failed to realize that Ali’s boasts struck a nerve with millions of people who demanded respect.