“It’s a job. Grass grows, bird fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.”
Muhammad Ali was the fight game’s first poet, it’s first true earthshaking giant — the champion of all champions. He flowed in and out of the ring, and in the heat of battle he danced. He danced and moved, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. He told you how great he was before a fight, and reminded you of those prophecies directly after. He carried boxing’s heavyweight belt as light as a great painter does his brush, and just about everything he touched became a masterpiece.
