The Soul Of A Butterfly (12 page)

no sad
GOODBYES

ALL MY LIFE
I achieved the impossible by defying the odds, so after I lost to Larry Holmes in October 1980, I gave it one more shot. I fought Trevor Berbick in the Bahamas on December 11, 1981. I lost in the tenth round. Before the fight I remember telling the critics that I thought forty was a fun age, life was just beginning.

Age was mind over matter—as long as you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.

After I lost my last fight I had to admit that it was over. Time had finally caught up with me. I would later discover that I already had Parkinson’s disease. Before that point, I could never really say goodbye to boxing, so boxing said goodbye to me. None of the Black boxers before me got out when they were on top. I wanted to be the first. The truth is if I won my last fight I would have kept going. I would have been sixty years old still trying to achieve the impossible. Someone wrote that I stayed in the game too long and what I loved ended up destroying me. But if I could do it all again, I would do it exactly the same. Whatever I suffered physically was worth what I have accomplished in life. My heart told me one thing and my mind told me another. And when I had to decide between them, I chose to follow my heart.

My toughest opponent has always been me.

the

SHADOW DANCE

The legendary fight that the world will never see for the title of “The Greatest” is between Cassius Clay and Muhammad Ali. But if only for a moment this fight would be, Who would win the Rumble between the Butterfly and the Bee …?

Every time I look in the mirror
,

I see that kid from Louisville, Kentucky
,

staring back at me
.

His name was Cassius Clay
.

THE KID SAYS
he is greater than Muhammad Ali. He claims to have made me who I am today. So I tell him that he is crazy. I look him in the eyes and declare that it was Muhammad Ali who made him great.

I insist that it was Muhammad Ali, not Cassius Clay, who stood up to the mighty government for his beliefs.

I tell him that it was Muhammad Ali who weathered the storms and endured the pain.

I tell him that it was Muhammad Ali who mastered the art of faith; Muhammad Ali, not Cassius Clay, who spread the truth.

Then I tell the kid that he was good—possibly even great—but that it was Muhammad Ali who invented the rope-a-dope and lit the Olympic torch.

I tell him that it was Muhammad Ali who shocked the world and made a place in history.

When I am through, the kid has a few words for me.

He looks into my eyes and confidently replies: “Almost everything you say is true. Muhammad Ali may have mastered the game, but it was Cassius Clay who dreamed the dream. Cassius Clay who inspired Ali to follow his heart. While Muhammad played the rope-a-dope game, it was Cassius who danced around the ring, shuffling and floating as if in a dream.”

So, when you accept the awards and receive the praise, he tells me, remember one thing: It may be Muhammad Ali who is the greatest, but it was Cassius Clay who paved the way.

the

DECISION

As Cassius and Ali danced around the ring, reliving the dream, in the final round it came to a draw. One could not be greater than what the other proclaimed. From the very beginning they shared the same heart, This has been true from the very start.

hana yasmeen ali

HAPPY MEMORIES

Not long ago, someone asked me what I missed the most about boxing. They wanted to know the things I thought about when I revisited yesterday
.

SOME DAYS WHEN
I rise, I have memories of yesterday on my mind, memories of the struggles and challenges. Memories of the dance, the glory, and the dream.

I remember Angelo’s shouts, Howard’s flash capturing moments in time, and the sparkle in Bundini’s eyes. I remember jogging with my brother at my side, and all the roads we traveled together. I remember the training camp at Deer Lake in the spring, and the smell of chopped wood. I remember the climb up Agony Hill and the trip back down.

I recall the roaring of the crowd and the sound of the bell. I remember the feeling of the ring, the dancing, the shuffling, the rhythm, and my speed. I remember the rope-a-dope and its victory, but most of all I remember living freely.

As life moves forward, I think of the pride of the crown; it all went by so quickly, like a sea of passing clouds. We have but a moment with youth, and although much has changed with time, I remember when I was king, and there are no sad goodbyes, only happy memories.

when I’m gone

THEY’LL HAVE TO SAY

Someone told me once that thousands of years from now, people will still remember my name and tell of what I did
.

WHEN I’M GONE
, they’ll just have to look at the records and look at my actions. Then it is up to the people to rank me where they want. They will think what they will, but my record speaks for itself.

They’ll have to say I was the fastest heavyweight that ever lived. They’ll have to say that I was the best looking—my face was unscratched and unmarked. They’ll have to say that I was the most entertaining and the most clever. They’ll say that even without a college education, I was smart enough to lecture at colleges and debate the best minds on television. They’ll have to say that I was the only real world champion. I fought in such diverse places as Zaire, England, Indonesia, Switzerland, Japan, and the Philippines. They’ll have to say that I was the most famous man in the world, the most famous fighter in history. They’ll have to say that I invented the rope-a-dope and the Ali shuffle. They’ll have to say that I was the boxer who could predict the winning rounds of my fights. They’ll have to say that I was the People’s Champion. They’ll have to say that after I stopped boxing, the sport lost its zest and wide appeal. They’ll have to say that I loved the people as much as they loved me.

And after they review all the facts, they’ll have no choice but to conclude that I AM the Greatest of All Time!

(Not bad for a skinny kid from Louisville, huh?)

the world’s

GREATEST

I have said that I am the greatest. In truth, only God is the Greatest. But no matter what I had chosen to do with my life, with God’s help I believe that I would have been the best at it
.

IF I HAD
been a garbageman, I would have picked up more trash quicker and neater than anyone else ever had. If I’d been a reporter who got the chance to spend the day with Muhammed Ali, before I came to the interview, I would have thought long and hard about all the other reporters who had interviewed him before me. I would have reviewed all of their stories so that I could get a different perspective.

After my research was complete, I would have thought some more about what it must be like to be someone that was so controversial. Someone that a lot of people had once hated, but have now come to love. I would have thought about all of the pressures and sacrifices that went along with that kind of responsibility.

Then, after I came up with one really good question—I would have taken my question and worked on developing it so it could inspire a really great answer.

I would ask myself to reveal the most important secret of Ali’s success that has never been shared before.

Then I would answer, first stating the obvious: God. Then I would name the following things, “It is the heart that makes a man great—his intentions, his thoughts, and his convictions.”

I would tell my reporter-self that while I was proud, I practiced humility; while I was tough, I showed compassion; and while I was firm, I was also forgiving. When all is said and done, these are the things that truly count. They are what I hope people will remember about me.

I would tell him, off the record, “There will come a day when my records will be broken. There might even be a fighter as fast and pretty as me (maybe my daughter Laila—she shook up the world, too).” Then I would go on: “The one thing that I feel made me great wasn’t my speed or agility. It wasn’t the rope-a-dope or even my three heavyweight championship titles. For me, it was the prayer before every fight, the strength and focus that God gave me.”