James Patterson - Becoming Muhammad Ali

That night was a piece of American history. The Clay family phone was dusky black with a rotary dial, and it sat on a wooden table in the neat-as-a-pin living room of the little house on Grand Avenue in Louisville, Kentucky. Some twenty of us were crammed like sardines into the room, waiting for that phone to ring. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for Cassius to call home. It was a February night in 1958.

And I remember it like it was yesterday. My best friend, Cassius, was three hundred miles north in Chicago, and that night he was fighting for a championship in the Golden Gloves boxing tournament. Cassius wasnt a professional yet, just an amateur. Tall, but a little skinny, and a lot raw. Only sixteen years old, like me.

You can call me Lucky. All my friends do. Cassius had already won plenty of bouts all over Kentucky. But the Chicago Golden Gloves was the big time. When he won thereand we all knew he wouldit would be lights out! From now on, people everywhere would know the name Cassius Clay. Mr. Mr.

Clay, Cassiuss dad, who everybody called Cash, was a sign and billboard painter, and he kept his work supplies right there in the house. Mrs. Clay! somebody called out. When that boy of yours gets famous, he ought to buy you a bigger house! Oh, you know he will! she answered. Then she looked right at me. Isnt that right, Lucius? Yes, maam, you know it is.

Cassius promised you a big house! I remember that Mrs. Clay was too nervous to eat. But she wasnt too nervous to talk about how proud she was! My Cassius did everything early! she was saying to a group of ladies. He crawled early, talked early, walked earlywalked on his toes like a dancer. The ladies all laughedas if they hadnt heard that story a hundred times before. But Mrs.

Clay just couldnt help it. Cassius always told her he was bound to be the greatestwith a capital Gand she believed it with all her heart. So did I. So did everybody in Louisvilles West End. Cmon, phone. Ring, phone, ring-a-ding-ding. The men and boys around the roomincluding Cassiuss little brother, Rudylooked at one another with big grins and made punching motions with their fists.

The big fight should be over by now. Under those bright lights in the middle of that huge Chicago Stadium, Cassius would be standing tall in the ring with one hand over his head like alwayshis opponent next to him with head bowed down in defeat. Then the phone rang. It was Cassius with news about the fight. And he told it like only Cassius could tell a story