Meeting My Childhood Hero

 

I first heard about Cassius Clay from my father one night in 1967 after one of his post-dinner drinks. My father decided to share his political views and basically called Mr. Clay, a boxer now named Muhammad Ali, a “traitor” as well as a few other names, for Ali’s religious beliefs and his ultimate decision to avoid serving his time in the Vietnam War as a “conscientious objector”.

He was born Cassius Clay Jr. on January 17, 1942, but on March 6, 1964, the Nation of Islam leader Elijah Muhammad gave Clay the new name of Muhammad Ali. Citing his religious beliefs, Ali refused to fight in Vietnam so he was stripped of his heavyweight championship title and banned from boxing for three years, right in the prime of his career.

My father was a U.S. Marine who received the Purple Heart medal for being wounded during combat in the Korean Conflict. He despised everything about Ali, whom he kept referring to as Cassius Clay, even though my father knew he was now named Muhammad Ali. I know, based on his comments, that my father felt that the Muslim religion was indeed anti-Christian and, therefore, anti-American.

I remember feeling intrigued with Ali’s decision because I now knew he was both an American, as well as a religious man in that he was a devout Muslim. Again, I was intrigued with how his religious beliefs would help him, or anyone for that matter, to avoid fighting for America. I mean, as an 8-year old Catholic American, with a Marine for a father, I was certainly expected to fight if I was to get drafted.

Many people, my father included, saw Ali as a draft dodger, and his popularity plummeted. Ali would soon be convicted of draft evasion and was sentenced to the maximum of five years in prison and a $10,000 fine. He remained free while the conviction was being appealed. Banned from boxing for the next three years, Ali was a regular in college campuses and spoke out against the Vietnam War. My father was furious about Muhammad Ali.

As public attitudes turned against the war, public support for Ali grew. In 1970 the New York State Supreme Court ordered his boxing license reinstated, and the following year the U.S. Supreme Court overturned his conviction in a unanimous decision, but that didn’t matter to my father. He held fast in his beliefs.

Fast forward a few years, my family had moved from Uptown New Orleans to a lily white suburban neighborhood in Metairie, LA. It was Monday night, March 8, 1971, and the heavyweight champion Joe Frazier was scheduled to fight the former undisputed heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali at Madison Square Garden in New York City. It was billed as the “Fight of the Century” and I listened to it on my little brown clock radio. I believe the station was 870 on the dial, WWL-AM.

Both fighters were undefeated at the time of the bout. It went 15 rounds and Frazier ended up knocking Ali down with a left hook, eventually winning by a unanimous decision in favor of “Smokin’ Joe”. While I was pulling for Frazier because that’s who my father wanted to win, I was sad that Ali lost, because he also lost his unbeaten record on the night. What my father didn’t realize was that Muhammad Ali was beginning to count me as a lifelong fan.

Three years later, on the night of October 30, 1974, 32-year-old Ali became the heavyweight champion of the world for the second time when he knocked out 25-year-old champ George Foreman in the eighth round of the “Rumble in the Jungle,” a match held in Kinshasa, Zaire.

Just a few years later, on February 15, 1978, Leon Spinks defeated Ali in Las Vegas to become the most inexperienced boxer, with only seven professional fights, to ever win the heavyweight championship title. The bout was named The Ring magazine upset of the year.

This set the stage for a rematch between the two boxers called The Battle of New Orleans, in my hometown, on May 15, 1978, at the Louisiana Superdome. Yes, I was there.

Sports Illustrated wrote “last Friday night in the New Orleans Superdome, driven by an ambition as vaulting as the structure, Ali dominated without letup a badly confused Leon Spinks. And after 15 perpetual-motion rounds, Ali had won the world heavyweight championship for an unprecedented third time. The decision was unanimous and indisputable.

As a fight it was not so much a contest as it was a demonstration by an old master educating an inexperienced youngster in the fine points of the craft.”

The Superdome attendance was 63,352, which, at the time, was the largest indoor attendance ever for a boxing match. Ticket sales of $4,806,675 ($20.168 million in 2021 dollars) was the highest live gate for a sporting event at the time. The average ticket price was $75.87. Truth be told, I walked right in through the employee gate using my Ogden Food Service employee button, which I still have with me in my collection.

I was very fortunate to have had a chance to meet Muhammad Ali personally during my magazine publishing career in New York City. It was one of my greatest thrills to finally meet one of my childhood heroes, a great American and truly a wonderful ambassador to all the world.

© 2022 Jeffrey Pipes Guice

My Wonder Years: A Book