People would ask me if I could have lunch with any famous person, who would it be? That’s easy….you. I’ve never received the momentous opportunity to meet you. By the time I was born, you’d already had your final fight with Trevor Berbick in 1981. Parkinson’s Disease had already set in, and many said you weren’t the same anymore. However, you kept on fighting that diligently even Trevor had to recognize the real. Monsters like Mike Tyson once said his name and yours didn’t even belong in the same sentence. George Foreman said he was never the same after Rumble In The Jungle in Zaire, 1974. I was never into sports, let alone boxing. However your magnetic persona stood out to me. With words and projection from a silver tongue, yet with speed and agility in the ring. The world would witness a heavyweight dance. Who knew a young man from Louisville would earn his plateau by floating like a butterfly with a sting like a bee? You carried that strategy not only between the ropes, but also in your beliefs in your walk of Islam. Some wonder what could have been had you not lost your boxing license for 3 years. But even then you fought for what you thought was right…you denied innocent bloodshed as a black man in the Vietnam War. America responded by dethroning the heavyweight champion of the world. By that time…you already showed the world what kind of man you are. Many more examples have followed within the years to come, and I’ve learned to appreciate your legend with the passing time. I’ve read multiple books and watched hundreds of interviews, but all of that research still isn’t an equivalent to the prototype of what your greatness was in reality. I learned to appreciate your passion for life, competing with self, and most importantly…pride in being a BLACK man. Thank you. Basketball had Michael Jordan. Baseball had Babe Ruth. Boxing IS Muhammad Ali. Rest eternally and peace King.