Editorial: Ali birthday reminder of magical era

Boxing was very much on my brain in the early 1970s. And it was all due to one man - Muhammad Ali.

In 1971 he was on the comeback, having had to forfeit his world title three years earlier for refusing to be drafted for military service in the Vietnam War, which he explained with the telling phrase, "no Viet Cong ever called me nigger".

He had already alienated many with his decision to convert to the Muslim faith in 1964, changing his name from Cassius Clay soon after he had defeated Sonny Liston to become heavyweight champion for the first time.

Even as a 10-year-old I could tell via black and white TV news that Ali was a man of importance, much more than a mere boxer.

The adults in my world all had an opinion on him - especially his brash public persona which featured rants such as "I am the greatest", and rhyming predictions on which round he would fell an opponent.

Living in "humble" provincial New Zealand I was immediately drawn in by his charisma, his legendary wit: "I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark", "My toughest fight was with my first wife".

But not all shared my idolatry.

When it came to his boxing talent, however, everybody agreed - "The Louisville Lip" was brilliant, probably the greatest heavyweight champion of all time.

But it was about to become an era in heavyweight boxing history when amazing talents were in abundance.

In Ali's absence, 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games gold medallist Joe Frazier had taken the title (Ali was 1960 Rome Olympic Games light heavyweight champion).

I remember well, listening to the radio in disbelief as Frazier knocked Ali to the canvas in that 1971 "Fight of the Century" at Madison Square Garden in New York, before going on to retain the title with a points decision.

It began a magical period in heavyweight history, with 1968 Mexico Olympics gold medallist George Foreman joining the show, along with Ken Norton, who inflicted a defeat on Ali, breaking his jaw in the process in 1973, before losing two other fiercely contested bouts.

With the emergence of satellite television the big fights became an anticipated worldwide event.

We raced home from school to view "The Rumble in the Jungle" (Ali regaining the title from Foreman in Zaire in 1974, the latter having earlier smashed Frazier into oblivion) and the "Thriller in Manila" (Ali defending it against Frazier in a brutal clash in the Philippines capital, to end their three bouts, 2-1 ahead).

Those memories flooded back last November when "Smokin Joe" Frazier passed away aged 67. And yesterday an article in Hawke's Bay Today on Ali's 70th birthday next Tuesday refreshed them.

I would tell anyone interested in understanding why that era in boxing was so affecting to source a copy of the brilliant documentary, When We Were Kings.

Sport as art, social commentary, a metaphor for life.

After watching that you will understand the greatness of the man born Cassius Clay, but now known worldwide as Muhammad Ali.

The ravages of his near 30-year battle with Parkinson's disease have not dimmed my memories of the three-time champ whose catchphrase, "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee" was known worldwide.

Muhammad Ali - social activist, cultural icon, entertainer, boxing genius - the most influential, most entertaining and most famous sportsman of my lifetime, I wish you a happy birthday, and thank you and your contemporaries, Frazier, Foreman and Norton, for the memories.