Ali and Me

                                                               

We were from different worlds.

He was a talented, big-mouthed boxer from the south, challenging society and our institutions.

I was everything he wasn't—a white, Jewish, gung-ho American kid from New York.  There was no cable TV back then, and his fights were not televised) so I would listen to my 6-transistor radio and shadow box the match in our apartment    on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn.

And I hoped that someone would knock his block off and shut his mouth forever. Patterson - Liston – Chuvalo - Terrell - Bonavena, but no dice!

We would read the sports headlines on the back pages of the daily news and daily mirror the next day in the schoolyard - always with the same results:

The anti-American, anti-white, anti- Jewish(or so I thought) Clay/Ali would always come out on top.

Fast-forward 10 years or so.

Ali would be stripped of his title and re-instated. I would go on to high school, graduate college, and enter the working world. Mom and dad took all of us to Washington, DC a few times each summer for vacation. We camped out at the Washington Hilton, played tennis, swam in the pool, and saw the sites for 4 or 5 days at a time—often with friends, girlfriends or cousins as our guests.

Circa 1974, and Ali and his entourage happened to be staying at the very same hotel.

We were all seated at a huge round table in the hotel restaurant, eating breakfast, when Ali and his crew approached our table. The legend went to dad, extended his huge hand, said a few words, and then smiled! He made his way around our table, shaking hands and greeting the Ades children and friends, one at a time!

He finally made his way to the elevator, where i chased and confronted him

I said:

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, it sure was an honor to meet Ali!"

He smiled, shook my hand again, and disappeared into the lift.

Many years later, I asked dad, "What did you have to do to get Ali over to our table?"

And dad replied, "Nothing Abbie, he did it on his own!"

From that point on, I was firmly entrenched in Ali’s corner.

And I hope G-D  is too.

Written by Special Guest Writer
Abdo A. Ades