Renowned international TV broadcaster, Victor Oladokun shares a photo of himself with Muhammed Ali in 1993
The first time I recall hearing about Muhammed Ali (then known as Cassius Clay) was when he came to London to fight England's Henry Cooper at Wembley Stadium in 1963. I was barely in kindergarten but I remember my father who had a ring side seat at the fight, raving about this great Black American fighter who pummeled the living daylights out of Cooper, but not before his famous left hook had sent Clay to the canvas in the early seconds of round four. I can't tell who my father raved about more.
Cassius Clay or the British actress Elizabeth Taylor who was in attendance and who he described as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, complete with a shimmering emerald dress.
That was my first ever introduction to Cassius Clay.
Later on, after he became Muhammed Ali, I would follow his anti-Vietnam war protests, his trial, and his eventual jail sentence, which rocked the boxing world. The years in jail would have a negative effect on his boxing prowess. He was no longer the same Ali upon his release.
Then on October 30, 1974, my father bundled the whole family off to the National Stadium in Lagos, Nigeria to watch the satellite simulcast of the fight between Muhammed Ali and George Foreman. It was billed as the 'Rumble in the Jungle' live from Zaire. 50,000+ people filled the stadium in Lagos to watch the fight that began at 4am in the early hours of the morning. It would be safe to say that all of Africa was routing for Ali and that almost everyone feared for his safety against the no-nonsense Foreman.
Then on October 30, 1974, my father bundled the whole family off to the National Stadium in Lagos, Nigeria to watch the satellite simulcast of the fight between Muhammed Ali and George Foreman. It was billed as the 'Rumble in the Jungle' live from Zaire. 50,000+ people filled the stadium in Lagos to watch the fight that began at 4am in the early hours of the morning. It would be safe to say that all of Africa was routing for Ali and that almost everyone feared for his safety against the no-nonsense Foreman.
When Ali knocked Foreman out in the eighth round with the same 'Phantom Punch' that had sent Sonny Liston to the canvas many years before, all of Africa echoed with cheers in support of its adopted son. I did two TV interviews with Foreman in later years. He confessed that it had hurt to hear Africans scream 'Ali Bomaye!' (Ali Kill him) and to not be welcomed in the same manner that Ali had.
In April 1993, I happened to be covering South Africa's transition to Democracy just a few months before Mandela became President. One of my main interviewees, ANC leader Chris Hani had been assassinated two days earlier. South Africa was tense. I was staying on the 20th Floor of the Sun Hotel in Johannesburg's Central Business District. Muhammed Ali was on the 21st floor. On a whim I called his room, introduced myself, and asked if I could come over and meet him. Surprisingly, without any hesitation, he said "not a problem, come on up." Ali's movement was already slow and his speech slightly slurred, but he was vintage Ali all the same. Quick of wit, intellectually sharp, and excited to be in South Africa on the eve of Mandela's inevitable election victory.
I told Ali that my late father idolized him and that he was at his famous 1963 Wembley fight with Cooper. Ali was gracious and reminisced about almost being knocked out by Cooper who was 25 pounds lighter.
In April 1993, I happened to be covering South Africa's transition to Democracy just a few months before Mandela became President. One of my main interviewees, ANC leader Chris Hani had been assassinated two days earlier. South Africa was tense. I was staying on the 20th Floor of the Sun Hotel in Johannesburg's Central Business District. Muhammed Ali was on the 21st floor. On a whim I called his room, introduced myself, and asked if I could come over and meet him. Surprisingly, without any hesitation, he said "not a problem, come on up." Ali's movement was already slow and his speech slightly slurred, but he was vintage Ali all the same. Quick of wit, intellectually sharp, and excited to be in South Africa on the eve of Mandela's inevitable election victory.
I told Ali that my late father idolized him and that he was at his famous 1963 Wembley fight with Cooper. Ali was gracious and reminisced about almost being knocked out by Cooper who was 25 pounds lighter.
After almost an hour, I said my goodbyes and as I took the elevator one floor down, I could not help but be in awe of Ali's still magnetic personality.
Muhammed Ali was not only one of the greatest fighters of all time, he was a civil rights leader, a voice of conscience, and a shining light in the sports firmament.
One thing is certain. The world will never see his likes ever again.
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