Muhammad Ali's Linguistic Theatrics

At NPR, Juan Vidal reminds us of Muhammad Ali's way with words: "Ali had a love of language, and a skill for linguistic theatrics that, while plainspoken, packed heft. He was Whitman donning white trunks and a robe. Not bad for a man who may have suffered from dyslexia, who barely graduated from high school." More:

Still, he was always drawn to words. And part of Ali's genius was mastering the art of making his words serve his purposes, both in and out of the ring — his playful approach to rhyme often made doubters eat his words, and theirs: "Henry, this is no jive. The fight will end in five."

Ali predicted his victories with an assurance that, while harsh and offputting to some, told you he was no simpleton with an empty ego. And while I never had the opportunity to watch him float and sting in real time — his final bout took place mere months after I was born in 1981 — much of my childhood was spent admiring his skill and imposing persona. I knew he was different, I felt his words.

He flipped similes and metaphors like a battle rapper holding court in a cipher that was his and his alone. Even his jabs were like couplets that told you more about yourself than you could have ever hoped to know.

Ali was a physical poet, and when he said he "done handcuffed lightning" his adversaries had no choice but to believe. He flipped similes and metaphors like a battle rapper holding court in a cipher that was his and his alone. Even his jabs were like couplets that told you more about yourself than you could have ever hoped to know. But there always seemed to be deeper meaning behind his expression, and his terse, lyrical trash-talk represented something bigger than even he could have predicted.

Find it all at NPR. Photo by John Shearer for LIFE, 1971.