I was very sorry to learn of the death late last night of Muhammad Ali at 74 years of age
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I followed the heavyweight boxing champion, who [in his own words] floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee, when he was first known as Cassius Clay, then as Ali.
I didn't always agree what he did or said, but the man was a winner and a world-wide force both in and out of the ring.
Earlier in my professional writing career, I had the privilege of interviewing Ali after he gave a motivational speech in Cedar Rapids.
I know he motivated me that night.
After introducing myself to him following his speech, Ali said to me: "Ron, you have always been one of my favorite writers. In a way, you've always been a lot like me. We both tell it like it is."
I'm assuming the effects of the Parkinson's Disease that cost Ali for more than 30 years had not yet influenced him.
After Ali and I chatted for about a half-hour about the state of boxing throughout the world and the state of football at Coe College, I mentioned to him that I had covered a couple of Golden Gloves tournaments as a writer.
I then was headquartered in Albert Lea, MN, and one of my favorite Golden Gloves hotspots was nearby Blue Earth, MN.
"Great," Ali said. "That's where it all starts. The Golden Gloves is boxing in its purest form."
As our conversation neared its conclusion, I asked Ali if he wanted to go a few rounds with me at the downtown YMCA in Cedar Rapids.
"I'm glad you asked," he said. "I always bring my jockstrap and my boxing gloves whenever I travel the country to do one of these speeches."
Ali and I ended up going three rounds at the "Y."
I was able to send him to the canvas once.
I came out unscathed.
I didn't even need the band-aid I had purchased at the Mays Drug Store between Second and Third Avenues just in case things got rough for me.
Oh, all right, that last part is a joke.
Rest in peace, man.
You were the greatest.