No More Float and Sting

"Muhammad Ali, you were a different man ten years ago. What happened?"

During pre-fight interviews, post-fight interviews, and Monday Night Football telecasts, Howard Cosell has continually demanded that Muhammad Ali explain the process of aging.

Ali, of course, was never out-matched in a verbal sparring match with Cosell, rolling off Howard's punches with a big smile, and returning the favor with some sneaky jabs of his own. Abbot and Costello they weren't, but entertaining they were.

The champ still survives frequent confrontations with Cosell, but now the question is: Can Ali still roll off the punches of the top heavyweight fighters of the world? Cosell only throws big words; Larry Holmes throws big fists.

The 38-year-old retired champion says he is now officially unretired and has started training for a preliminary bout with Scott LeDoux in June. In addition, plans are in the making for an Ali-John Tate heavyweight championship fight in September.

Why is Ali coming back? There are two reasons: love of the limelight and a yearning for money. There is no question that Ali has lost attention since he retired, and the man thrives on being surrounded by cheering crowds and inquisitive reporters. There is also no question that the man lives well, and the proposed $7 million paycheck he will receive for climbing in the ring against Tate will buy a lot of car batteries. But, is it worth it? Muhammad Ali is no longer the fighter he once was. A young and enthusiastic Cassius Clay, with the quick hands and feet that never touched the canvas, has become a chunky Muhammad Ali. The stomach muscles that withstood the barrages of Floyd Patterson, Sonny Liston, Joe Frazier and George Foreman now hang over his belt. The face which had never been cut, unmarked all these years, was split open in a sparring session last week. Time has taken its toll.

Why is it that the great ones are always the last to know?

I remember watching Hank Aaron struggle for two years as a designated hitter for Milwaukee before calling it quits. I remember Willie Mays waving for the camera from the Mets' dugout. I remember Jim McMillan replacing Elgin Baylor in the starting line-up the night the Lakers embarked on their record-breaking 33-game win streak. I don't want to remember Muhammad Ali face-down in the ring.

Sit down now, Muhammad, while there's still time. As much as I hate to say it, you're not the same man you were ten years ago.