Today marks 5 years since Muhammad Ali passed away. The first time I met him was at his training camp in Deer Lake, Pennsylvania. It was the summer of 1975 and I was just 15 years old. He wasn’t happy about a Bruce Lee T-shirt that I had on and neither was I. It was my only choice that morning. (I guess my mom hadn’t washed all the ones I had worn that week?) But I got over it after seeing my idol and soon-to-be role model.
I began boxing that same year and won a Golden Gloves in 1976. Something called The Middle Atlantic Amateur Athletic Union Championship. I was so proud that I took my trophy to school to show it off. The truth was that I was very insecure and needed a self-esteem boost. But sadly, the adulation wore off and girls and alcohol slowly became ways to boost my self-esteem. However, that’s a whole other story.
I’ll never forget that first meeting with The Greatest. He always took time to talk with his fans and that day was no exception. I’d meet him three more times in my life and I was just as excited as the first time I saw him. I never met him in my sobriety, though. But he made such an impression on me that throughout my 25 years sober, I have tried to show the same level of love and kindness toward others as he did.
I don’t have the level of faith that he had. But my hope, and some days belief, that something rather than nothing created life and the Universe for a reason has helped me during troubled times when nothing else would, and I am grateful for that.
I am also grateful that Ali took the time to say hello to me and ask if I wanted a picture. Although the photo reminds me of all the fears and insecurities I had back then. It also reminds me of how trying to be like him eventually helped me to begin loving myself. But that too is a whole other story.