Eine beeindruckender Blick in das frühe Leben von Muhammad Ali. Interessante Einblicke aber auch in die Biographien von Liston nd Patterson. Lesenswert, wenn man wissen möchte, was den größten Boxer aller Zeiten in seinen frühen Jahren angetrieben hat. ( )

Este libro es una verdadera joya del periodismo narrativo. La prosa de Remnick es tan orgánica que a veces te da la impresión de estar leyendo una muy buena novela. Remnick trata a las figuras históricas de su libro con tanta fidelidad y compasión que cuesta no conmoverse ante la humanidad de Patterson, Liston, Dundee, Malcom X, Alí.
Más que la crónica del ascenso a la fama de Cassius Clay, después Muhammad Alí ("Clay era mi apellido de esclavo") y su conquista del mundo, este libro parece ser una radiografía exhaustiva de los sesentas norteamericanos. ( )

Wow, this has to be one of my favorite all-time sports biographies. The prose is pure butter: elegant, but also smooth and riveting. One does not need to be knowledgeable about the sport of boxing, nor a particular fan of boxing, to find this book entertaining and enlightening.

This book covers Ali's childhood through his Patterson/Liston fights. The book starts out by describing Patterson's and Liston's tough childhoods, and their rise to fame in the chaotic boxing world. Both of these opponents go on to play significant roles in Ali's life, and both left indelible marks on Ali's career.

Ali's was a product of his time. His membership in the Nation of Islam, his friendship, and then estrangement to Malcolm X, his refusal to be drafted in Vietnam, his scathing lip, all clearly defined Ali during his early days.

I admire Ali. His refusal to being drafted was an inspiration to many African Americans. During this time, there was talk of getting Ali a cushy non-combat job, but he still refused. He paid a dear price for his recalcitrance - a forfeiture of his title, and millions of dollars in revenue from prospective fights/endorsements. In addition, his refusal came before the war lost support at home, and Ali's reputation suffered as a well. He was a man of convictions and I find the honorable and courageous.

This book isn't a hagiography. Ali was far from perfect; he was completely human. While Martin Luther King Jr was fighting for integration and equality, Ali joined the militant, separatist sect of the Nation Of Islam. For some, their behavior was a set back to progress made by King and others. Ali also disowned Malcolm X after Malcolm X fell out of favor with the Nation of Islam. Later in life, Ali himself admitted he regretted that situation. Ali also had a very turbulent relationship was his first wife, which ended in divorce over her refusal to dress as a proper Muslim woman, even though she didn't adhere to that code to begin with. Also, Ali's treatment of Patterson during their follow up fight after the two Liston fights, in my view, was a low blow.

To his credit, Ali's views evolved as he aged. And he left a strong legacy in the sport, political, and religious realms. He also ultimately helped moved forward Civil Rights for African Americans by his political stands, his unwavering confidence in himself, and his example of a successful, strong, independent minority. His persona in interviews, his poetry, his confidence, are all very charming intricacies of his personality. I never found those intricacies arrogant. I think most of it was an act to mess with his opponent. It also was a brillaint marketing move. Ultimately, it's classic Ali.

I also found this book sad. Both Patterson and Liston had tough childhoods. Both had limited access to education. Ultimately, Liston's life came to a tragic, possibly drug overdosed, end. For boxers, this was a common refrain. Boxing was the one thing that could propel them out of poverty and desolation. After boxing, many ended up with severe brain damage; dementia and confusion are common symptoms of too many blows to head. For ones who made a ton of money, there is at least a small consolation of security. But for the majority of boxers, poverty and waywardness awaited them post boxing.

I recommend this book. It's more than a small slice of Muhammad Ali's life. Its more than exciting title fights. It's a look into the turbulent 60's and of men finding their way. ( )

David Remnick is perhaps best known for his award-winning work on Russia since the collapse of Communism (Lenin's Tomb and Resurrection: The Struggle for a New Russia). His most recent book deals with Cassius Clay and his transformation into Mohammed Ali. "Boxing in America was born of slavery." Southern plantation owners would often pit their strongest slaves against each other, sometimes to near death. Frederick Douglass objected to the sport because he believed it "muffled the spirit of insurrection. Mohammad Ali had mixed feelings about the sport that made him a public figure, too. Two black men beating up on each other was too intense a reminder of other times. Few who lived through the turbulent sixties have lukewarm feelings about Ali. He became a symbol of rebellion against the oppression of a white society that was reluctant to change. He invented not just a new style of boxing, but spoke loudly to his black brothers when he embraced Elijah Muhammad's black separatist nation. His message to the white community was powerful: "I don't have to be what you want me to be" — a message many in the white community still haven't grasped yet.

The Vietnam War provided the justification for both sides of the issue to love or hate Ali after he refused the draft on religious grounds, thereby sacrificing millions of dollars in defense of the championship he had won. His decision was made when virtually no other celebrity was taking a similar stance, yet he was willing to stand up and represent his black brothers who were giving their lives in Vietnam in disproportionate numbers.

The boxing world contamination of the fifties and sixties was spread beyond the boxers and their managers. The mob had always enjoyed a monopoly on boxing because they, like the boxers themselves, were outsiders. Only a fool or a desperate man would make his living getting hit in the head. Boxers were easy targets. It was not uncommon for sportswriters to receive envelopes filled with cash in order to receive more favorable treatment. Boxing was not unique. Baseball columnists were wined and dined and supplied with all sorts of perquisites to influence their stories. The writers themselves were not investigated during the Kefauver investigations into the boxing world of crime because the senator knew how important it was to keep journalists on his side. As it was the newspaper world took a dim view of the investigations, perhaps because they threatened to derail their gravy train.

In 1960, as Cassius Clay, he became famous as the U.S. Olympic boxing champ. He was so proud he wore the medal to bed. He returned to Louisville a hero and to a parade. When he tried to get a sandwich at a local Woolworth's, however, he was refused service. (Even in 1978 at the height of his fame, renaming a street after him only just barely passed the city council by one vote.) A group of prominent white businessmen put together a promotional package. Most of them knew nothing about boxing, but thought it would be fun. The poetic doggerel that became synonymous with Ali was part of the "great American tradition of narcissistic self-promotion, a descendant of Davy Crockett and Buffalo Bill by way of the dozens. " Ali was fully aware of what he was doing. A meeting with Gorgeous George, a forty-six-year-old wrestler who engaged in vitriol against his opponents, had impressed him. Ali was astute enough to see how it filled the arenas with people. "I saw fifteen thousand people coming to see this man get beat. And his talking did it. I said, this is a good idea!" He said later, "Where do you think "I’d be next week if I didn't know how to shout and holler and make the public take notice? I'd be poor and I'd probably be down in my hometown, washing windows or running an elevator and saying 'yassuh' and 'nawsuh' and knowing my place."

Perhaps Ali's greatest achievement was his disavowal of the white world's expectations. Remnick contrasts Patterson and Liston with Ali. Floyd Patterson was the great conciliator, the white black man, if you will. Sonny Liston was the stereotypic bad black man. Importantly, both showed deference to white society and were expected to remain aloof from the racial upheaval going on around them. The principled stand on Vietnam had profound implications. During his exile he lost his speed. He learned that he could take punches, though, and he absorbed many in the fights that followed. He won a lot but took incredible punishment. Soon his kidneys were affected and his brain was damaged, leading eventually to Parkinson's Disease. Today he is but a mere shadow of his former ebullient self. It says a great deal for America's need to mythologize and to eulogize its athletic heroes that Ali is now mostly regarded with "misty affection." Perhaps that's sad, for it trivializes the accomplishments of an authentic American hero. ( )

I think the entire story of Cassius Clay/Muhammad Ali can be summed up by one sentence late in the prologue, "He hit people for a living, and yet by middle age he would be a symbol not merely of courage, but of love, of decency, even a kind of wisdom" (p xvi). It is true Ali started out as a loud-mouthed, egotistical, "pretty" kid who could back up his bravado with a mean left hook. He hid his emotions under constant chatter. But, by the time the heart of Remnick's biography leaves the story of Cassius Clay, Clay had barely become Muhammad Ali, had just beaten Sonny Liston in a November 22, 1965 fight to defend his heavyweight title, and was on the cusp of being a cultural icon. He had yet to sway the country as a force to be reckoned with. He would not become the beloved everyone thinks of today. It's as if Remnick needs to write a King of the World: Part II and tell the rest of the story. ( )