Muhammad Ali Turns 65 Today

Whenever I'm asked to name my heroes two names always immediately come to mind - Charlie Chaplin and Muhammad Ali. I never met Charlie Chaplin.

I remember as a kid there was always a big fuss about Muhammad Ali. America was in the heat of the war in Vietnam and Ali refused to fight. he had been stripped of his title and was a lightening rod of controversy. In our house he was lauded. My father had a long history of opposing war so we were completely sympathetic to his point of view.

I think that I was seven when Ali had his title taken away from him. Although I knew who he was it was because of watching Wide World of Sports. Howard Cosell was his champion and they gave Ali lots of air time.

I remember when Ali came back and fought Jerry Quarry. Not his toughest opponent but he was back and the world would never be the same again. I was ten now and sports had taken over my life. I remember staying up late the night that he fought Joe Frazier for the first time. The fight was televised so I had to get round by round updates off the radio. I listened intently to CHUM's news updates for how the fight was going. In the end they announced that Joe Frazier had won in 15 rounds. I was devastated. It's the first time I remember feeling that way about a sporting event.

Who will ever forget the Rumble in the Jungle when he regained the heavyweight championship by beating George Foreman or the Thrilla in Manila when he and Joe Frazier went toe-to-toe in one of the greatest fights in history? To my mind the only black mark on his career was losing to Leon Spinks in '78. It should never have happened but Ali was over confident and Spinks was well prepared. I think one of the Rocky movies was inspired by the fight.

In the winter of 1983 I was winding down my time in New York City. I had graduated from NYU and had worked for Aucoin Management and Chrysalis Records and I had decided to return to Toronto to see what i could make of myself back home. One day, during the last couple of weeks living i there, I was walking up Madison Avenue at 53rd on my way back to the Chrysalis offices. As I crossed the street heading north I looked up and saw Muhammad Ali standing at the corner waiting for the light to change. My heart jumped into my throat. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Surprisingly, no one was talking to him or asking for an autograph. Mustering as much confidence as I could, I walked up to Ali and extended my hand and said "Champ, you're the greatest."

Now I don't know where the word "maw" comes from but it's one of those non-sense words that just seem to make sense. In this case "maw" definitely means "giant fleshy hand."

Ali's "maw" enveloped my puny hand. Despite it's size I was struck by how soft and gentle (without being limp) his grip was. "Thank you. Thank you very much," he said in a gruff whisper (he hadn't been diagnosed with Parkinson's yet). And with that he went on his merry way and I stood there starring after the greatest boxer and one of the greatest human beings in history.