The Champ Quiets a Loudmouth
In 1991 Muhammad Ali was on a book tour signing a bio of himself written by Thomas Hauser. I went to one of the signings and it was the richest of book signings for me because of all of the experiences I witnessed as a part of that day.
The champ was well into his Parkinson's disease and he noticeably shook. I learned later that he pre-signed bookplates whenever he could, so that when he became tired or unable to do so himself he could hand over a bookplate to the fan awaiting his autograph. I was within the first dozen or so people and I hoped for a personal one. I received much more than I expected.
The line, in this African American owned and themed bookstore in Inglewood, CA was made up of a mixture of people from all walks of life and cultures. I recall a few Nation of Islam gents in their suits and bow ties, the one who stood in front of me while we were in line refused to engage me in conversation. In front of him was the white loudmouth man you would expec to see, and might avoid, in a sports bar, complete with a New York accent. It was that joker who decided to taunt the name signing, shaking champ.
As Ali signed Mr. Sporty's book, the man addressed Ali mockingly:
"Ya still got it champ? Huh? Still got it? Ha ha ha! You still the champ?"
Though I witnessed everything I never saw Ali's arm move. At first it was signing the man's book, and suddenly it was behind a fist that seemed to appear right under the taunter's chin. It took Muhammad Ali longer to look up from the book at the guy than it did for his signing hand to become a fist stopping just under the guy's chin. The former taunter became instantly silent. The quiet in the whole bookstore was palpable. I saw next a glint in the former Cassius Clay's eye, and an ever so slight smile on his face. And the shaking that had temporarily ceased now resumed, as the boxer picked his pen back up and returned to his task. He handed the book to the now quiet jokester who could only mumble a much more respectful "thanks, Champ," before he slunk away from the table. Soon it was my turn for more amazement.
The Champ Gets to Me
After witnessing, while standing in line at an Inglewood, CA bookstore, Muhammad Ali show a taunter that he still had it, it was soon my turn to meet the champ. All I wanted was his signature. I received generosity.
As I mentioned, due to his Parkinson's disease, the boxer signed his name to bookplates whenever he could. Thus, there was a stack of signed bookplates next to the boxer so that he could hand one over after he became too tired to personally sign any further.
"Hi Champ!" I said as I slid my book over to him. He did not seem to recognize I was even there, his full concentration was on the task before him; putting his signature on the page.
Four months earlier my dad died and I could not help but think how wowed my father would be to know I was meeting the great athlete Muhammad Ali. Knowing what a rare honor this was, as the signer slowly began composing the "M" to his first name, I asked "Can you make it out to Peter?" When I look at the signature today I still see the "squiggle" in his first cursive line where he heard my interruption.
Sadly, I thought, he would not personalize the book as he kept focused on what he started; signing his own name. Signing slowly, laboriously and as I truly believe to this day - lovingly.
He finished the first, and then put down his last name and next surprised me by adding the date. As I reached out to take my book from him his pen drifted to the top of his signature, and in this way he showed me, that he had heard me (as he would show me and gift me again soon after) as he wrote "To Peter." I thanked him and as I moved away I asked the man sitting next to Muhammed Ali, the boxer's best friend, photographer Howard Bingham, if I could also have a signed bookplate for a friend. He handed me one and I walked away but soon learned that Muhammad Ali was not done with me yet.
The Champ Beacons Me Back
Following an already amazing experience in a bookstore receiving a personal autograph at a signing from Ali and having watched him silence a taunter I thought that was going to be my final interaction with him. It wasn't.
As I moved away from the champ with my autographed book I asked Ali's friend if I could have one of the signed by the boxer bookplates that were on hand in case the shaking with Parkinson's celeb became fatigues. The friend, photographer Howard Bingham, acquiesced and handed me one. I walked away, but the event that was me and Ali was not finished.
I headed towards the exit of this African American owned and themed bookstore in Inglewood, CA and in doing so I was walking past other hopeful fans waiting in the line that snaked throughout the store. Suddenly these persons awaiting their own signatures put out their hands to stop me.
At the same time I heard from all around me the verbal attempts to get my attention. "Sir, sir!" they cried and I heard a lone voice say "he wants you!" The hands that had reached out to stop me were now pointing from where I had just come.
I turned to see a sight that I will never forget. With the dead facial stare due to his disease the Champ was looking at me, and with one stiff and shaky hand was beckoning me to come back. I did.
As I approached Ali I actually stammered "Ye-ye-ye-yes Champ?" He motioned for my book and I gave it to him. I soon realized that he heard my request for a bookplate. Maybe he thought I was asking him for it, or perhaps he did not know that Mr. Bingham had given me one already. Regardless he opened my book and began laboriously peeling off the sticker protection on the back of the book plate and then affixed it himself into my book (which I had to quickly flip around for him so that it was not upside down) with a firm, yet loving pat. He smiled and handed me back my book along with some Nation of Islam literature - also signed! - and I left the store with my hands and heart full.
That day I went to meet and to get a momento from a famous boxer. I left with much more; a glimpse into the true champion that he truly was - a man with heart, with love to share and faith that he lived. That day I received gifts I never expected. He truly was "The Greatest."
The End
