tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4877881702352775713.post8719164814964258092..comments2023-04-21T11:11:25.591-06:00Comments on A Bordello Pianist: Muhammad Ali, Pugilist and . . . Pundit?Thomas Warkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11953195197253264621noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4877881702352775713.post-80460074387031177742016-06-07T10:16:43.075-06:002016-06-07T10:16:43.075-06:00I remember my encounter with Ali in Detroit
An ed...I remember my encounter with Ali in Detroit<br /><br />An editor at The Detroit News assigned me to cover Ali's visit to the Detroit jail.<br /><br />Ali shuffled in, mumbling things so softly I could't hear them. I jumped in the elevator with him and his entourage and we were soon standing in a small, stifling hot cell with five men in it. <br /><br />Ali handed them each a pamphlet about Islam. And even though I was standing right behind Ali, I still couldn't hear what he said. <br /><br />I had yet to grab a single quote for my reporter's notebook. But did it matter? Was Ali saying anything quotable? I was forewarned about his Parkinson's disease. And all those rope-a-dope blows he took! Maybe there was nobody home. Right?<br /><br />When Ali turned around to leave the cell, I stepped in to the space where he'd been standing to interview the five men. What did Ali say to them? What did they know about him? What did it mean to them for him to make the effort to come see them?<br /><br />I was earnestly trying to get out my questions and attentively jot down their replies but the sound of a big dry-winged bug was whirring near my ear. Thinking it might be a big moth, I swatted at the air around my ear to drive it off. I went back to interviewing the men -- but there it was again! The dry rustling of wings in my ear! Again I swatted. But this time I also whirled around to see what it was.<br /><br />And found myself nose to nose, looking into the sparkling eyes of the greatest fighter who ever lived. He had the most fantastic, tricksterish grin!<br /><br />There was DEFINITELY somebody home!<br /><br />(I read later that he loved playing tricks on people and the one he played on me he'd picked up during his travels in Africa. The fluttering wings in my ear was the sound of Ali quickly rubbing four finger tips against his thumb.)<br />John T. Warknoreply@blogger.com