‘I am the greatest.’ Boxer Muhammad Ali visited California Men’s Colony prison in SLO
Few people in the world are instantly recognizable and known by a single name.
The exclusive group includes Jordan, Prince and Madonna. Bu top billing goes to the man known by many as Ali.
Cassius Clay, as professional boxer Muhammed Ali was known then, was a 18-year-old high school graduate when he fought and defeated Zigzy Pietrzykowski to win the gold metal for light-heavyweight boxing at the 1960 Olympics.
The boxer would go on to international fame and become three-time heavyweight world champion.
The odds did not favor Clay, then a 7-1 underdog, when he stepped into the ring against heavyweight champion Sonny Liston on Feb. 25, 1964.
Before the fight, Clay said, “Sonny Liston is nothing, The man can’t talk. The man can’t fight. The man needs talking lessons. The man needs boxing lessons. And since he’s gonna fight me, he needs falling lessons.”
Writers quickly fell in love with a subject who told a story better than they could. All that was required was to catch quotes as they flew by.
The day after defeating Liston, the boxer changed his name and announced his membership in the Nation of Islam.
Muhammad Ali would be the first introduction to a faith that was little known to many Americans at the time. Ali’s athletic ability and charisma allowed him to take on controversy that would have destroyed smaller personalities.
In 1966, his boxing career was frozen during his prime years as an athlete when he refused military service after being drafted.
He asserted his conscientious objector status as a Muslim minister and was quoted as saying, “I ain’t got no quarrel with them Vietcong.”
Ali was stripped of his heavyweight boxing title in 1967. Court battles would continue until 1971, when the Supreme Court ruled that his objection to the draft was founded on religious belief.
He would resume fighting and promote bouts with titles such as the Rumble in the Jungle and Thrilla in Manila. Ali retired from boxing at age 39 in 1981.
Ali announced his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis in 1984, likely related to decades of absorbing damaging blows in the ring.
He lit the Olympic flame in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1996 and was named Sportsman of the Century by Sports Illustrated in 1999. He raised more than $45 million for the Muhammad Ali Parkinson Center at Barrow Neurological Institute.
Muhammad Ali died on June 3, 2016.
In the time between his retirement and the public revelation of his Parkinson’s diagnosis, Ali visited San Luis Obispo. He made three stops — going to the Grange Hall to give a talk titled “Life is Religion” to 200 fans.
Ali also introduced a boxing card put on by Patrick Murphy at San Luis Obispo Junior High School and a visit with inmates at the California Men’s Colony.
Dan Stephens wrote the following story about Ali’s CMC visit, which ran in the Telegram-Tribune on January 31, 1983.
A few notes: Howard Cosell was a famed broadcaster of the era who had an abrasive style that drew sparks while with Ali.
Up to 40% of the troops who served in Vietnam were black even though accounting for only 10% of the U.S. population. They were often assigned to front-line units that suffered the heaviest casualties.
Ali used a racial epithet that is rarely printed today. It appeared twice in the original story but is edited in this version.
‘The Champ’ makes points
ALI
Inmates don’t laugh much. Nothing funny about being behind bars. But Saturday, Muhammad Ali made them smile at California Men’s Colony.
And for about 1 1/2 hours, 772 inmates dressed in their prison blues forgot where they were thanks to the charismatic champ.They filed into Bernadette Hall at about 1 p.m. along with some sparrows that flew in and nested in the ceiling lights.
After a number of preliminary speakers, the three-time heavyweight champion of the world was introduced to the inmates: “Here is the man who made Howard Cosell rich and vice versa,” the MC said.
Applause.
Dressed in a brown suit and looking thinner than recent reports hinted, Ali stepped up and spoke of Muslims, hogs and boxing.
“In 1964 I beat Sonny Liston. Most of y’all were free then.”
Laughter.
“Oh yeah, I don’t want to take too much of your time, I know you got somewhere to go.”
Having warmed up the crowd, Ali started from the beginning. “When I was growing up in Louisville, I came to be known as the ‘Louisville Lip,’” he said, referring to his trademark: bragging.
“One time I heard a boxer named Gorgeous George. He said he talked a lot, was pretty and said if his opponent messes up his hair, he’d choke him.
“Well I went to see George wrestle and I saw an extra 20,000 people showed up.”
“And I thought, ‘Gee, that’s a good idea,’ ” Ali said, scratching his head.
“That’s when I started saying ‘I am the greatest and I’m pretty.’ ” “Of course I wasn’t just saying that, I am,” he said pulling an orange afro comb through his close-cropped hair.
But saying he was pretty and great wasn’t good enough. So he began predicting the round in which his opponents went down. But just saying the round wouldn’t do. No. He had to recite it:
“Don’t block the aisle; don’t block the door; all of you can leave at round 4.” “Yeah, brother,” an inmate hollered to Ali from the top tier.
Then on a more serious note, Ali told the inmates of his “hard times.” Having had their share of “hard time,” Ali was speaking their language.“ … Then the Vietnam war came along … you know, they had to try and stop the n-----s some way,” he said to a mostly black audience.
“When I said I wouldn’t go to Vietnam, everyone said, ‘That n----r’s crazy. He gave up the world title; he gave up all that money and he gave up being free,’ ” Ali said, reaching a crescendo.
“But you can be in prison and still be free … If you learn the truth.” Silence gripped the audience for the first time. Ali said he found the truth while he was walking the streets in Kentucky. A black Muslim came up to him and said “As-Salaam-Alaikum” (peace be unto you), a Muslim greeting.
Ali didn’t know what it meant, but the man kept talking to Ali anyhow. “This guy asked me ‘Why are we called Negroes?’ “ I said ‘I don’t know.’
’“Well he told me, ‘Chinese are named after China; Cubans are named after Cuba; Germans are named after Germany; and Russians are named after Russia.’ “All people are named after their country.’”
“Well I said, ‘Why are you messing with my head?’ ”
“And the man said, ‘Who ever heard of a country named Negro?’”
The crowd went nuts.
Shortly after that encounter in Kentucky, Cassius Clay became Black Muslim, Muhammad Ali. And ever since, he’s been preaching the teachings of Islam. Ali then turned to the inmates and talked of another truth … hogs.
“Hogs are always fighting against themselves. And you know that’s how most of you brothers got in prison,” he said. The topic then took a U-turn back to Ali’s favorite topic, himself.
“This is the legend of Muhammad Ali; The baddest boxer that will ever be; He talks a great deal and of his great deeds; Of a powerful punch and blinding speed; This bad boxer was something to see; Three time heavyweight champion was his destiny; Ali fought great, he had speed and endurance; If you fight him better increase your insurance; Ali had left, Ali had right; If he hit you once you’d sleep for the night; When I say three it’ll be in the third; Don’t bet against me, I’m a man of my word; If I tell you a mosquito can pull a plow; don’t ask how … hitch him up.”
After the recital, Ali opened up the floor to questions.
“Who is the baddest man in here?” Ali asked. One inmate stood up and said he was a boxer in Cleveland before prison.
“What did you box?” Ali asked. “Apples and oranges?”
Another inmate stood up and said he wanted to spar with “The Champ.”
“Your mama didn’t raise no fool, but get up here on stage anyway.” Ali jabbed, feigned a left, as the inmate did some unorthodox footwork. Ali stopped and watched. “Man you innocent,” Ali said. “You don’t belong here in prison, you belong in a crazy house.”
The inmate stepped down victorious, though verbally defeated. “The Champ” left as the hall filled with applause.
Ali stopped and performed a magic act with a handkerchief. Merlin he wasn’t but inmates appreciated the brief sideshow.
Back in the auditorium, a few inmates remained. “Him coming here was spiritually uplifting,” one Muslim inmate said. Another said he wasn’t moved spiritually, but it beat sitting around the cell-block.
“I don’t get a chance to see many celebrities in here. I came just to see him and to laugh a little.”
