Taking It

Muhammad Ali is one of those sports icons that seems to step out of the "sports culture" dominated by 18-25 year old men (boys) and become known to almost everyone. Clips and sound bytes from his early career are what stick out to us the most.

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

Back then (as Cassius Clay) he was faster and quicker than his competitors. He had more endurance and more confidence than all of them. He won matches by dancing around his opponents, confusing them, and punching when they least expected it. He became a world champion this way. But a funny thing happened: he got old. And as he tried to make a comeback in the boxing world, he was no longer the fastest and quickest fighter around. He no longer had the most endurance or the most confidence. People no longer believed he could win by dancing, confusing, and surprising his opponents. And he couldn't.

So Ali found a new strategy that seemed counter intuitive to most. As the bell rang and the match started, he would back toward the ropes. He would allow himself to get pinned there and then let his opponent hit him. That was the strategy, he called it "rope a dope." He would lean against the ropes, protect himself with his hands, let the elasticity of the ropes absorb a good amount of the shock, and get punched. Round after round would go like this and to every watching it would look like Ali was losing. But he didn't get knocked out. And eventually, after so much punching his opponent would get tired. He would begin to drop his arms because of fatigue and when he could no longer protect himself, Ali would punch back. And his fresh arms would hit harder and faster than his exhausted opponent could handle, and he would win.

It was this second phase of Ali's career that vaulted him (in most people's minds) from just another in a long line of boxing champions to one of the greatest athletes who ever lived. He showed that he was not only faster, smarter and stronger in his prime. But long past his prime he was so much tougher, mentally and physically, than everyone he came across. He showed that he could not only give a punch, but to take one.
And so I'm left with this question: What takes more strength? To punch? Or to be punched? To dish it out? Or to take it?

May I always be strong enough to take it.

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