Muhammad Ali, who died late Friday evening aged 74, was one of the greatest icons of the 20th century, one of the world’s greatest boxers of all time, and certainly in his time, and during the era that he dominated the ring, the greatest among his contemporaries, the inimitable master of his game. The polyvalent nature of his talent: athlete, poet, civil rights campaigner, radical, gadfly, celebrity, philosopher, motivator and role model has ensured that there can never be anyone else like him. Muhammad Ali was special in his art, in his grace, and in his combination of wit and uncommon talent.
No other athlete has done as much to raise the level and quality of boxing, converting it into a mainstream spectacle that captured the imagination of the world. He enriched boxing with his talent, but it may also be said that his personality enriched our collective humanity. He lived between two astonishing polarities: good health and sickness, for almost the same length of time.
For 27 years, he dominated the boxing world, he could talk like the gift of speech was made specially for him, he could punch with his fists as if they were made of reflexes, he could dance around the ring like he was on a picnic, lean on the rope like he was on dope, fell his opponents with confidence, taunt them like they knew nothing, and in it all, he emerged as the “greatest”, the very best, the
