“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”
Behind the bombast and audacity, the lyrics and the rhymes, there was a scarcely populated hamlet in Schuylkill County in the heart of Pennsylvania called Deer Lake. It was there that Muhammad Ali spent his training camps during the Golden Era of heavyweights. In the quiet solitude of sub-freezing temperatures, Ali would run. He would spar. He would harness the thing in him that made him into the greatest that ever was.
He told us because he knew. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee — the hands can’t hit what the eyes can’t see.” In this life, you are what you make yourself.
