Growing Up in the Era of Ali Part 1

I became a fan of Muhammad Ali in 1964,shortly after he beat Sonny Liston for the Heavyweight Championship. I was 9 years old,and then many knew him as Cassius Clay.

He called himself "The Greatest" and because of that proud boast, there were many that didn't like him... including my Mom.Joe Louis was the Heavyweight Champion of the 1940's generation,and my Mom was part of that generation. She told me the story of meeting Joe Louis at a segregated Washington D.C. park. Joe Louis may have internally felt the indignation of walking through a segregated park,but gentlemanly Joe Louis was not one to make an issue of it.

My Mom felt it was wrong to be that boastful,but in the eyes of a 9 year old boy,if Mom said something was bad,it had to be good.
His conversion to the Nation of Islam created ripples in my neighborhood because at the same time, Malcolm X was attempting to set up a mosque in this largely black middle class enclave in Hartford Connecticut's predominantly black North End.

Though it would upset my Mom,I began to call myself the Greatest too,and in 1964 while in 3rd and 4th grades,it seemed as if Ali's spirit was protecting me too.
In 3rd and 4th grades,it was a daily occurance in school to be harrassed and teased due to my thick lips.It didn't help matters that I was a terrible athlete or a top notch student and that sense only escalated  after the Kennedy Assassination,when I would declare my aspiration to become President of the United States.That aspiration was considered by many of my classmates as crazy at best,(because no black man could be President) or "acting white". at its cruelest.

There were some kids in the neighborhood that were going to put me in my place. On an afternoon after school on my way to a Cub Scouts meeting,I was approached by three boys asking me if I would play Muhammad Ali fight with them.
At home,my brothers and I would play Muhammad Ali.The only requirement was that I,as the oldest brother got to be Muhammad Ali. That never fared well for my younger brothers,and especially didn't fare well for them if I happened to be bothered by something they did earlier in the day.

Facing these boys would be another matter however. I sensed these boys wanted to hurt me based on the whispering and laughing they were doing on the side.

Their biggest mistake was allowing me to be Muhammad Ali. I can't say I wasn't scared,but the odds were agaisnt Ali in all realms of life as well.
On someone's front yard,the "fight" began One kid out of the three was chosen as my opponent.Based on how he moved,it seemed liked he knew how to fight.

He swung. I moved to block his swing. In my awkward motion,my left elbow caught the kid in the eye and he ran off screaming and crying. His buddies seemed shocked.


I was never teased or bothered by those boys again. It should be remembered that Muhammad Ali had his toughest fighta against left handers like Ken Norton.
In 1964,it was virtually unheard of for a black man to speak confidently of himself or to stand up for oneself.
I began to learn in my own way that if it was good enough for Muhammad Ali not to back down and to stand up for himself,it was good enough for me.

More to come..