The Greatest

After crying my eyes out watching his memorial service in Louisville, I came to the conclusion that I am not a good enough writer, nor am I worthy to put the life of such a great man into perspective, but I owe it to my childhood to try. And I can’t tell this story without telling some of my own. That’s how much he meant to me.

When I was in college, one of the greatest men I had ever known was a Sociologist named John Louis Cooper. One of the things this mentor told me was “Never look for heroes. They are human beings, and when you find out that they are human beings, they will only disappoint you.” Well sorry Dr. Cooper, but you were one of my heroes as well, but at least you set an almost impossible standard when I look for them.

I had found my very first hero in Muhammad Ali, and I don’t even remember when. He was well past his prime the first time I had heard of him when I was a child, yet everyone still called him “The Greatest.” He lost handedly to Larry Holmes in 1980, and embarrassingly to Trevor Berbick before finally calling it a career in 1981. But what I didn’t witness, was the man that beat Sonny Liston, Floyd Paterson, Joe Frazier and George Foreman. Without a doubt, the greatest heavyweight ever. Sorry Rocky Marciano fans, but go ahead and name 10 good fighters that Marciano beat to get to 49-0 then I will change my mind. It’s OK I’ll wait…

So what would make me qualified to write anything about this man? Maybe the fact that I have done more research on this man’s life then most: I do own over 16 hours of film of his interviews, along with every one of his fights. I have read 6 books on him and I wrote a paper on his Supreme Court case clearly illustrating why he was right and the United States Government was wrong. A work that was quite well received, if I may say so myself. I had mixed feelings of posting it, because I thought the legal jargon might bore the crap out of my readers, but my brother Rudy Ruiz Jr. suggested that I do it anyway, so who am I to say no. So, in recognition of everything this great man meant to me and my own youth, the first part of “Three Years of Idle Turmoil: The Case of the United States vs. Muhammad Ali” will be posted next week, the rest in further installments until the end of the month. I hope you enjoy it, but remember I was just a kid in law school who loved Ali when I wrote it.

I have had a few days after his death to reflect on what Ali’s life meant to me, and even after all of his many accomplishments, to me he is still a fighter. I can write another book on the social impact he had all over the world, but the absolute first thing I think of when I think of Muhammad Ali, is the lead in right. That is a punch thrown without a jab to set it up. He was so fast that he could tag you with it with ease. Then I move to the shuffle, and that I can’t explain, you’ll just have to watch. I will make one recommendation even to the casual fan who wants to know what all the fuss was about…Watch the Ali vs. Cleveland Williams fight at the Houston Astrodome in 1966. This was sheer artistry. No one could have beaten him that night, and it was a cruel reminder of what the US Government took from the boxing public with their ridiculous charges, but that’s a story for a later time.

I have not fought competitively in over 10 years, but even now I still can’t seem to stay away from a gym. Even as recently as last week, I was working out in the ring and I didn’t even notice what I was doing until one of the trainers yelled out “Don’t think I don’t see you doing the Ali shuffle!” I am half Ali’s size, and here I was trying to do the things he did. But what so many didn’t realize was that he was a big guy actually trying to fight like a smaller fighter. He was the size of George Foreman moving like Sugar Ray Robinson , and he pulled it off so well it made him virtually unbeatable in his prime.

Yes, everything said about him was true: He was flawed, he was a genius, he was a lover of all human beings, he was willing to give up his whole life for a principle he believed in, he was one of the greatest athletes of the last century and yes he was the pride inside us all, if we look hard enough inside us, we will find him there. But mostly he was just an absolute beauty. How can this world shine as brightly without him in it?