Muhammed With Clay Feet

Submitted by Arlinda DeAngelis (United States), Nov 29, 2005 at 20:27

I saw Cassius Clay when he was still Cassius Clay one night on Forty-Second Street. He stood right in front of me and smiled. He was the a rising star, the poet boxer with childish rhymes. He had wings like a butterfly and a stung like a bee. You could hear the crowd whispering "It's him!! It's Clay!!" I looked up and there he was ... a beautiful face smiling at the restrained and polite recognition of the theater goers. It was almot a half century ago and crowds were polite and the cult of celebrity was not quite what it is today.

He was a gorgeous fighter and a good one. His personal life was defined by self indulgence and abnormal self absorbed interest. He was all about himself. He couldn't have cared less about his fans, his country or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps he saw humanity as a punching bag, his country as a cash cow and his faith as a means to escape his responsibilities. He was forgiven everything.

Why? I don't know. President Bush lauding such a hypocrite is completely beyond me. It was a cheap bit of politics in keeping with Ali's less than stellar character.

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