Muhammad Ali: A Tribute to the Greatest. Thomas Hauser

Michael Jordan played basketball the way Ali fought. Unfortunately, Jordan didn’t play baseball the way Ruth did. But then again, I doubt that Ruth would have been much of a basketball player. However, The Babe was known to punch out people rather effectively as a young man.

      Thus, looking at Michael Jordan, Babe Ruth and Muhammad Ali from a purely athletic point of view, it’s Jordan (three points for first place), Ruth (two points for second place) and Ali (one point for third place) in that order.

      But is pure athletic ability the standard? If pure athleticism is the only test, men like Jim Thorpe, Jim Brown and Carl Lewis should also be finalists in the competition for ‘Athlete of the Century’. The fact that they aren’t stands testament to the view that something more than achievement on the playing field must be measured; that social impact is also relevant. That’s a bit like saying maybe Ronald Reagan should be considered the greatest actor of the twentieth century because of his impact on society. But here goes.

      Ruth, Ali and Jordan reflected the eras in which they were at their respective athletic peaks. Ruth personified ‘The Roaring Twenties’. Ali was at the heart of the social and political turmoil of the 1960s. Michael Jordan speaks to ‘The Nineties’, with its booming stock market, heightened commercialism and athletes as computer-action-game heroes.

      Jordan hasn’t changed society. Babe Ruth brought sports into the mainstream of American culture and earned adulation unmatched in his time. Nor was The Babe’s impact confined to the United States. During the Second World War, long after his playing days were over, Japanese soldiers sought to insult their American counterparts by shouting ‘to hell with Babe Ruth’ at Guadalcanal. Meanwhile, Ali (to use one of his favourite phrases) ‘shook up the world’ and served as an inspiration and beacon of hope, not just in the United States, but for oppressed people around the globe.

      One can argue that Jack Johnson, Joe Louis and Jackie Robinson all had a greater societal impact than Ali. Arthur Ashe once opined, ‘Within the United States, Jack Johnson had a larger impact than Ali because he was the first. Nothing that any African-American had done up until that time had the same impact as Jack Johnson’s fight against James Jeffries.’

      Joe Louis’s hold on the American psyche was so great that the last words spoken by a young man choking to death in the gas chamber were, ‘Save me, Joe Louis.’ When The Brown Bomber knocked out Max Schmeling at Yankee Stadium in 1938 in a bout that was considered an allegory of good versus evil, it was the first time that most people had heard a black man referred to simply as ‘The American’.

      Meanwhile, Jackie Robinson opened doors for an entire generation of Americans. If there had never been a Jackie Robinson, baseball would in time have become integrated; and, eventually, other sports would have followed. But that’s like saying, if there had been no Michelangelo, someone else would have painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

      Still, Ali’s reach, more than that of any of his competitors, was worldwide. So for impact on society, it’s Ali (three points), Ruth (two points), and Jordan (one point). That means there’s a four-four-four tie, and we go to tie-breakers.

      Babe Ruth seemed larger than life. So do Muhammad Ali and Michael Jordan. Ruth and Ali had much-publicised personal weaknesses. Jordan has flaws although they’re less well known. All three men have been idolised. Ali has been loved. It would be presumptuous to choose among them as human beings.

      So where do we go from here?

      Sixty-four years after Babe Ruth hit his last home run, a half-century after his death, men like Mark McGwire still compete against him. Without Ruth ever having been on SportsCenter or HBO, he is still in the hearts of most sports fans. Ali might enjoy that type of recognition fifty years from now. It’s less likely that Michael Jordan will.

      That brings us down to Babe Ruth and Muhammad Ali.

      And the envelope please …

WHY MUHAMMAD ALI WENT TO IRAQ

      (1990)

      Last month [November 1990] in Baghdad, Muhammad Ali embraced Saddam Hussein and kissed him on the cheek. The moment was televised throughout the world and troubled many people. Ali isn’t a diplomat. His actions aren’t always wise. There was danger in the possibility that a visit from history’s best-known fistic gladiator would feed Hussein’s ego and stiffen his resolve. Regardless of what else happened, the meeting would be used for propaganda purposes in the Third World, where Ali is particularly loved.

      Some of Ali’s closest friends were also concerned that, in going to Iraq, he was being used for personal gain by one or more members of his entourage. Several of his associates, past and present, are the subject of a federal inquiry into alleged financial irregularities. While Ali was in Iraq, one of his attorneys was indicted on charges of conspiracy and tax fraud. And among those who accompanied Ali to Baghdad was Arthur Morrison, a self-described businessman who has traversed the United States leaving a trail of arrest warrants behind.

      As Ali’s trip progressed, it became increasingly difficult for the world outside to distinguish between what he really said and what was reported by the Iraqi News Agency. There were self-appointed spokesmen purporting to act on ‘hand signals’ from the former champion. Others said, falsely, that Ali was unable to speak. But none of this is new to Ali. He has often dealt with con men and crazies. The sideshow that accompanied him on his recent journey shouldn’t be allowed to overshadow why Ali went to Iraq. It was an act of love in quest of peace. He hoped that his presence would promote dialogue and forestall war.

      I’ve spent the past two years researching and writing about Muhammad Ali. For much of that time, I’ve lived with him, travelled with him and interviewed hundreds of his family members, associates and friends. I know him well. At least, I think I do. And one thing is certain. Even though Muhammad’s voice is not as clear as it used to be, his mind is alert and his heart is pure.

      I’ve seen Ali get on a plane and fly to India because the children in an orphanage wanted to meet him. I’ve sat in his living-room as he talked with sadness of hatred and racism in all of their virulent forms. He’s a gentle man who will do almost anything to avoid hurting another person.

      Ali was in Louisville visiting his mother who had suffered a stroke when he was asked to go to Iraq. He is on medication for Parkinson’s syndrome. When he left that afternoon, he had enough medication with him to last for five days; yet he stayed in Iraq for two weeks. He quite literally endangered his health because he believed that what he was doing was right.

      That has been a constant theme throughout Ali’s life. He has always taken risks to uphold his principles. During the 1960s, he was stripped of his title and precluded from fighting for three and a half years because he acted upon his beliefs and refused induction into the US Army during the height of the war in Vietnam. He now believes that all war is wrong. Ali is, and since Vietnam has been, a true conscientious objector.

      Ali knows what many of us sometimes seem to forget; that people are killed in wars. Every life is precious to him. He understands that each of us has only one life to live. Many Americans now favour war with Iraq, although I’m not sure how many would feel that way if they personally had to fight. Ali, plainly and simply, values every other person’s life as dearly as his own, regardless of nationality, religion or race. He is a man who finds it impossible to go hunting, let alone tolerate the horrors of war.

      It may be that war with Iraq will become inevitable. If so, it will be fought. But that shouldn’t cause us to lose sight of what Muhammad Ali tried to accomplish last month. Any war is a human tragedy and we should always be thankful for the peacemakers among us. That’s not a bad message for this holiday season or any other time of year. After all, it’s not how loudly Ali speaks but what he says and does that counts.

THE OLYMPIC FLAME

      (1993)

      The Atlanta Olympics are three years