Ali and the torch: The right man for the job

Payne’s choice to light the torch was more than perfect … It was Ali


ALI TIMELINE

1942: Born Cassius Marcellus Clay on Jan. 17, 1942, to Marcellus and Odessa (Grady) Clay, in Louisville, Ky.

1959: Light heavyweight champion, AAU; Light heavyweight champion Golden Gloves.

1960: Light heavyweight champion, AAU; Light heavyweight Olympic gold medalist.

1964: Defeated Sonny Liston to become world heavyweight champion; converted to Muslim faith, changed name to Muhammad Ali.

1967: Refused induction into the U.S. Army, stripped of his championship, forbidden to travel abroad.

1971: U.S. Supreme Court reversed verdict in his draft-dodging case.

1974: Defeated George Foreman and reclaimed world heavyweight championship.

1975: Penned autobiography, "The Greatest: My Own Story."

1977: Appeared in the movie, "The Greatest."

1978: Defeated Leon Spinks for third world heavyweight championship.

1980: Lost world heavyweight championship to Larry Holmes.

1984: Entered hospital to undergo neurological tests for Parkinson's disease-like symptoms: tremors and muscle weakness. Called a news conference to disavow Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan's remarks about Jews, saying they were a "trick" to promote the views of someone not speaking for all Muslims.

1990: Inducted into the inaugural class of the International Boxing Hall of Fame in Canastota, N.Y. Flew to Baghdad, Iraq, to negotiate the release of American hostages.

1996: Lit Olympic caldron, officially beginning the 1996 Atlanta Centennial Olympics.

Legendary sports columnist Dave Kindred wrote this column that was published in the Sunday, July 21, 1996 Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Suddenly, it was Muhammad Ali.

It was wonderfully Ali.

Or to quote his shortest poem:

“Me,

“Whee!”

As if materializing before the world’s eyes, Muhammad Ali suddenly and wonderfully rose into sight above the rim of the Olympic stadium at the most dramatic juncture of the Opening Ceremony.

After a month of secrecy, clandestine travel and midnight rehearsal, the great man would light the Olympic flame.

The swimmer Janet Evans ran to the stadium rim, there touching her torch to Ali’s, and then the 1960 Olympic gold medalist raised high the flame in his right hand.

Beautiful.

If Ali fought too hard too long and now pays a dear physical price, he is at peace with the damage because he sees it as Allah’s will. Fire in his hand, standing tall in the night’s bright lights, Muhammad Ali was beautiful.

Just one problem.

The high-tech folks had devised a thingamajig that, once lit by Ali, would slide up a wire to the caldron and there light the Olympic flame.

The thingamajig appeared to be a $4.25 hot dog, or maybe a big ol’ bird’s nest. Whatever, Ali touched his torch to it and nothing happened.

“It wouldn’t catch, ” Ali said the day after, and here he raised up on his hotel bed, eager to demonstrate his anxiety.

“I looked around.” He looked at the high-tech folks for an answer as to why this bird’s nest resisted fire.

“Then I puffed on it.” He pantomimed exhaling intended to fan the flame. “The whole world is watching, ” he said, now laughing, his eyes the eyes of the scamp we love. “Three billion people, and I look like a fool.”

What he looked like was a great man about to burn himself trying to light the family grill. As he extended his torch toward the thingamajig, the torch flame licked back toward Ali’s hand. “It felt funny for a minute, ” he said, but he was not burned.

Finally, the thing caught fire and moved slowly up the wire toward the caldron - another glitch because it was supposed to zip up that wire in a flash, or, as Ali put it, “Whoosh.”

Billy Payne wanted Ali. Five weeks ago, the Atlanta Olympics committee boss and his ceremony director, Don Mishner, met with Ali’s colleague of 30 years, the photographer Howard Bingham.

“They wanted to know if Ali physically could do it, ” Bingham said. “I told them Ali can do anything he wants to do.”

Ali’s biographer, Thomas Hauser: “Initially, Muhammad had reservations about doing it because he doesn’t like the image he projects on television and he realized that billions of people around the world would see him. But then, he also realized this was a way to help deliver his message of tolerance and understanding.”

As to how long it took him to say yes, Ali has a short answer: “This.” He snapped his fingers.

The identity of the flame lighter is always a secret. Ali and Bingham signed confidentiality agreements. “They said this thing is always mysterious, ” Bingham said. “And they told us they had other people in the wings.”

A week before the ceremony, Ali and Bingham left their hotel at 1:30 in the morning for a rehearsal at the Olympic Stadium. No fire was involved, but the wire went whoosh.

Then Ali returned home to Michigan. Jerry Izenberg, a sports columnist with the Newark Star-Ledger, called Ali’s office the day before the Opening Ceremony on a hunch that Ali might be the man.

“The office manager told me she didn’t even know if Ali would come to Atlanta because he had a bad case of bronchitis, ” Izenberg said.

On Friday afternoon, Ali flew to Atlanta in a private plane. It landed at DeKalb-Peachtree airport. A black van with blacked-out windows took Ali to a private apartment where he stayed until the Opening Ceremony had begun.

And then, after midnight, on the stadium rim, there stood a man once the best athlete anyone ever saw. And he was more, a loved/hated symbol of race, religion and politics in the tumultuous 1960s. Now he moves slowly. Now he whispers. Now this man who says he threw away his Olympic gold medal in anger at racial discrimination has lit the Olympic flame.

“An honor, ” Ali said. “Mankind coming together. Martin Luther King’s home. Muslims seeing me with the torch.”

Before Ali left the stadium, President Bill Clinton asked to see him. By Bingham’s account:

“The president stood directly in front of Ali and put his hands on Ali’s shoulders. And he said, ‘They didn’t tell me who would light the flame, but when I saw it was you, I cried.’ “