How Ali made a fan ‘float like a butterfly’
Float like a butterfly/sting like a bee
Perhaps the new generation of boxing fans has no idea who said that famous line. Fortyone years ago, the champ with a poetic touch (rather, “tongue”) was here for the historic Thrilla in Manila at the Araneta Coliseum where he beat Joe Frazier. He was none other than Muhammad Ali who died last Saturday at age 74, immortalized by a mall in Cubao, Quezon City, named after him.
Behind Ali’s tough front was, according to election lawyer Romy Macalintal, an avid fan, a man with a soft spot. How did Romy find out? I will let Romy himself tell the whole story as a loving tribute to his idol.
I was so saddened to hear the heartbreaking news that my idol, Muhammad Ali, who in the ’60s was known as Cassius Clay, had passed away. I pride myself as the only one in the world who spent two hours with him because of an old scrapbook where I treasure clippings of Ali’s life and career dating back to 1960 when he was still known as Cassius Clay.
Yes, I vividly recall how he predicted the rounds he would stop his opponent with rhyming poems, like the following: To whom it may concern, For all the world will learn; The greatest fighter of them all; Is Cassius Clay who makes them fall.
Maybe to today’s young, the name Cassius Clay hardly rings a bell. That was Ali’s name when he first caught the public attention when he won a gold medal at the Olympic Games in Rome in 1960.
Some people may remember Ali as a boastful and feared warrior in the ring. But I can say, without fear of contradiction, that deep inside his armor, this “warrior is a child” (if I may borrow from Gary Valenciano’s hit song of similar title). Ali’s wife, Lonnie, perfectly described him as “gentle and caring with a heart purer than any I’ve ever known.”
Yes, I also feel the same about him. He’s one of the greatest human beings I’ve met and ever known. I know because 40 years ago (on Sept. 22, 1975, to be exact) at around 3:30 p.m., I was warmly welcomed by Ali at the Presidential Suite of the Manila Hilton Hotel (later Holiday Inn and now Waterfront Hotel). He was in Manila for his “thrilla” with Frazier.
As an Ali fan since high school, I started collecting Ali in an album I aptly titled “Muhammad Ali – The Greatest.” How could I see him and let him sign my album? I was then a working student in my second year law course at the University of the East and an ordinary employee of the US Veterans Administration.
I practically stormed the lobby of the Manila Hilton Hotel. It was a long shot if I could meet him or just see him. Security was not so strict during those days. No incidents of terrorism, bombings, kidnappings and the like. The receptionist readily gave me the room number (1926) where Ali’s lawyer, Atty. Albert Griffin, was billeted. Griffin brought my album to Ali’s suite. A few minutes later, I saw an excited Griffin who was practically shouting as he told me: “Hey, guy, the champ wanna see ya. Come on before he changes his mind.”
Griffin and four security escorts of Ali walked me through the door of Ali’s suite. Griffin knocked and I heard somebody answer, “Come in.” I knew it was Ali. He was seated on a couch. He stood up, shook my hand and told Griffin and the four security escorts to “leave us alone.”
Ali then asked me to sit beside him as he sat back to the couch.
“You know, your album is authentic,” he told me. “It shows the efforts you did to collect all these news items about me when I was still Cassius Clay. I’ve seen a lot of albums about me from my fans all over the world, but they were prepared only when they knew I was coming. But yours is something I really appreciate, that’s why I called for you and I wanted to meet you to give my personal thanks.”
I thought I was dreaming! I was practically “floating like a butterfly.” Ali asked me, “So, what do you want me to do with your album?” I asked for his autograph on the cover page of my scrapbook, and several inside pages, saying about each picture, “I look pretty here; may I sign it also?”
But the great experience with “The Greatest” did not end there. He invited me to watch a movie with him. At that time, there was no Betamax, VHS nor CD player. He set up a film projector with his 8mm film on the Lee Marvin series The Lawbreaker. We watched about four episodes while seated on the carpet. He said that he only watched crime movies and cartoons. Once in a while, Ali would stand up, get juice and biscuits and served them to me.
When it was parting time and he learned I did not bring a camera, he asked, “Why didn’t you bring your camera? We should have our picture together.” I said,
“Sir, I never expected to see you personally.” He called for Griffin and instructed him to see to it that I see him in his dressing room after his Sunday training at the Folk Arts Theater. I would say I was practically the center of attraction and the envy of others as I was the only one allowed by Ali to enter his dressing room. We had our picture taken together by Griffin.
Ali may just remain as a legend for this new generation and the generations to come. But for me, he will remain for real as I could always feel his compassion and humility every time I recall how he welcomed me with open arms and with his heart widely opened.
In 1996, despite his bout against Parkinson’s disease, Ali once again showed his “caring and gentle heart” to his millions of fans all over the world when he lighted the 1996 Olympic urn with his right hand while his left hand was shaking.
And now that he is gone, I am very sure that he will never be forgotten by his millions of fans and the entire boxing world. And my scrapbook and the several pages he signed will always remain as mementos of my personal encounter with an authentic boxing idol and a great human being.
Ali!!! Ali!!! Ali!!!