Just a Wee Blether…

About my hero Ali – the un-American

A few months ago, I wrote in this blog about the thrill of finding out that one of my great sporting heroes, Muhammad Ali, lived only a few miles from me in Arizona. Ali, arguably the greatest sportsman of my generation, died this week in a hospital just a 15-minute drive from my home.

As a sports-obsessed boy growing up in the 1960s I had a lot of idols. The great Brazilian footballer Pele was at the height of his career and, to my mind, is still the greatest player that ever lived. The stylish Ferenc Puskas and Alfredo di Stefano were in decline but Eusebio, Bobby Charlton, George Best and Scotland’s own Jimmy Johnstone lit up the football fields of Europe.

Golf’s big three – Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and Gary Player – dominated their sport, and there was an up-and-coming youngster called Tom Watson on the horizon. Billie Jean King, Rod Laver and the classy Arthur Ashe stood out for me on the tennis court, and a West Indian called Gary Sobers was a cricketing god.

Wales seemed to have all the best rugby players, certainly in the northern hemisphere – Gareth Edwards, JPR Williams and Barry John spring to mind. And who can forget the exploits of the Kenyan long distance runner Kip Keino? It was a great time to be a sports fan.

There were some incredible one-off performances. I will never forget watching a certain Bob Beamon seeming to hang in the rarified air of Mexico City as he shattered the world long jump record by an incredible two feet. Beamon collapsed in shock when the board showed 29 feet, two and a half inches. And of course there was that day that a Jim Baxter-inspired Scotland became world football champions by beating England at Wembley – that’s what happened, wasn’t it?

But somehow Muhammad Ali transcended all of this. I watched his fights on my parents’ old black and white tv set. The ones that stick in my mind weren’t against Joe Frazier or George Foreman but opponents such as Henry Cooper, George Chuvalo, Brian London, Ernie Terrell and Cleveland Williams. It was pure entertainment, his ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’ dance routine was something Fred Astaire would have been proud of, he was style personified.

Out of the ring he was equally charismatic and controversial. He converted to Islam, played a prominent role in the civil rights movement and refused to fight in Vietnam, stating in typical forthright manner that “no Viet Cong ever called me nigger,” only the American whites. In the 1960s that one statement alone earned him the undying hatred of half the country.

This week, hours after Ali died in a Phoenix hospital with his family round his bedside, tens of millions of Americans took to online message boards to pay tribute to a true sporting legend. Tens of millions more took to the same boards to abuse him, to spew racist venom, to call him a coward and a traitor, and to brand him un-American.

A quick scan reveals phrases such as “draft-dodging racist”…”draft-dodging coward got what he deserved by suffering”…”an un-American traitor, no hero of mine”…draft-dodging coward should be on his tombstone”… I hope Ali rots in Hell”…”changed his name to Muhammad to hide from the draft”. And millions and millions more in the same vein.

What the hell is wrong with some people in this country? Disagreeing with a person is fine, abuse of that nature about a person who lit up the lives of so many people round the world is quite frankly sick. No other nation would treat a sporting icon in such a way

Of course the American scourge of racism runs through everything. I hear racist comments here every day. Some are jokes and we should all be grown-up enough to enjoy a good non-PC joke within reason. But in 21st century America, black people are routinely called monkeys, Obama is called ‘the ape in the White House’, Oriental people are called Gooks. Everyone gets some sort of abuse – Hispanics, Jews, Mormons, Catholics, Irish, Native Americans, you name it.

As for the draft-dodging stuff, I always thought draft-dodgers ran away or squirmed out of serving, like the ‘fortunate sons’ of the wealthy. Ali, to my mind, was a conscientious objector who was prepared to face the consequences. Quite a difference.

I will remember Ali as ‘The Greatest’ and the outpouring of online hatred won’t change that one bit. It just makes me wonder even more about the whole American psyche.

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