Muhammad Ali has passed away. One of the most iconic sports legends in living memory. The Greatest, as he declared himself to be.

I’m not into playing sports. Those of you who know me know that I can’t run to save my life, and the ideal sporting venture to me is one that is sweat-free (!). I try to go to the gym every week (“try” being the operative word..), but that’s really more an exercise in vanity than physical achievement. I take a very keen interest in sporting legends though. Pete Sampras, Roger Federer, Serena Williams, Fu Mingxia and Muhammad Ali, amongst others. Because through the pursuit of excellence in their respective sports, they embody those qualities that I think represent the best in us human beings.

There cannot be excellence without dedication, hours and hours of training, day in day out, over years. There cannot be dedication without the audacity to dream, and the conviction of belief. The road to success will be littered with many setbacks and failures. Not to mention injuries. And even if success is attained, the inevitable is eventual decline. An outsized strength of will is necessary to keep seeking that often elusive and potentially short-lived glory, and to persist where others have given up, during an epic match or over the course of a sporting career. Giving up is often the easiest and so very tempting. Hence many do, but not these greats. I remember vividly Pete Sampras, all but written off by commentators, determined to win again at Wimbledon. Nothing was going his way and at every changeover, he hunched over a note of encouragement written by his wife, trying to summon his inner belief for one more victory. It was not to be and he was defeated by his little known opponent, at the second round. It was a humiliation, painful just to watch, but he did not succumb. Later in the year, he came back and beat longtime rival Andre Agassi at the US Open and then bowed out of the game on his own terms, one of the greatest players of all time.

Of course there’s talent, a lot of it, but talent without belief, dedication and perseverance won’t amount to much. This is partly why I send Son to tennis and taekwondo lessons. Not because I want him to become a career sportsman, but because I wish for him to forge those qualities, to be applied to his talents, whatever these may be, and to his life.

Of them all, Ali holds a special place. Because of boxing. And because of him. Boxing has to be one of the rawest sports practiced by mankind. Two men seeking to inflict and escape nothing but pain, using nothing but their bodies and brains, with nothing between them except the ebb and flow of the most basic of instincts. The instinct to win and to conquer, amidst the pain. The instinct to self-preserve and to surrender, amidst the pain. The pain… Which I think is very different from that of lungs gasping for air and legs crumbling from exhaustion. It is pain at its most direct, damaging and life threatening. It takes a whole different kind of courage, plus a whole different level of mental toughness.

And him. From Cassius Clay to Cassius X to Muhammad Ali, because he didn’t want a “slave name”. Losing three years in the prime of his athletic life because he didn’t want to fight a cause in Vietnam he didn’t believe in. Cunningly employing unorthodox strategies like “rope-a-dope” to defeat stronger opponents. Defying his doctors to continue fighting because he wanted to believe. He did it his way. He had his flaws, of course he did, but who doesn’t? But he had his wit too, and how many do? His subsequent decline due to Parkinson’s made his victories, arrogance, charm and convictions all the more poignant. Was that the price he had to pay for the prize of having floated like a magnificent butterfly through life, and stung like a ferocious bee in the ring? We will never know for sure. I suspect it’d be a price he’d be willing to pay, if given a choice all over again. I say that because through his loss of speech and mobility, he never lost the twinkle in his eyes.

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