LORD SEBASTIAN COE

WE often talk about The Greatest, Muhammad Ali truly was.

He was an absolute colossus and made the biggest impact in sport, and possibly outside it, in my lifetime.

I was taken by the then International Olympic Committee president Juan Antonio Samaranch to the basketball final at the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games. He didn’t tell me why he wanted me there, he just said: ‘Wait, you will want to see this.’

Midway through the match, Samaranch leant over to me and said: ‘Wait here.’

He then walked out to the middle of the court. A few spectators look around, players stay focused on the coach’s team talk… then out walks Muhammad Ali.

All eyes are suddenly on the men in the middle of the court.

The players stop listening to the coach and turn to the centre, where Ali is presented with a replacement gold medal for the one he won at the 1960 Rome Olympics but had subsequently thrown into the Ohio River all those years before.

The stadium erupted, with thousands of spectators making more noise than I had ever heard before.

The biggest and the best USA basketball players, themselves heroes to a generation, queued to get the great man’s autograph. Well, we didn’t have selfies then.

And that was Ali – loved, respected, always human and funny.

My favourite story was during the infamous Rumble in the Jungle against George Foreman.

After six rounds of soaking up inhuman levels of punishment from Foreman, Ali sensed his moment of immortality was about to arrive.

He put his glove behind Foreman’s head, pulled him into a clinch and then whispered in his ear: ‘Not a good time to get tired, George.’

Minutes later, his knockout punch saw him regain the world title.

A legend who honoured us by being part of the London 2012 Opening Ceremony.