My father Muhammad Ali: An insight into the boxing legend's life outside the ring by his daughter Maryum - Part 2

Boxing legend Muhammad Ali fought his way to three world heavyweight titles and could talk the talk ringside, but little is known about his life when the gloves came off. Here Maryum Ali (known as May May), the eldest of his nine children, gives US an exclusive insight into growing up with one of sport’s most iconic stars. (If you missed the first part, Click Here)

The people who loved him saw his speech and his body slowing down; what the ravages of boxing were doing to him. We could feel it, too. I think he should have retired in 1974 after his fight against George Foreman, but like any boxer, he didn’t know when to quit. I don’t have regrets, though, and neither did he. My father has always danced to the beat of his own drum. He had to retire when he was ready and I respect him as a man who made his own decisions.

There were issues between my father and mother and he was unfaithful. He wasn’t a perfect man but he’s still a good person. My father never said he didn’t make mistakes, and I think kids admire their parents more if they’re honest with them.

I’ll never forget the day my parents got divorced. I was in third grade and it was all over the news and in the magazines. I was on my way to school thinking, ‘OK, everyone knows my business.’ I heard my teacher Mrs Hoffman tell the other kids, ‘Do not mention Maryum’s father’s divorce.’ When I walked in, all the kids were looking at me. I thought, ‘Well you’ve already said enough!’ It was hard. My family lived under a microscope, but it’s made me very tough.

There are some kids who will let a divorce make them hate their parents, but my father didn’t raise me to hate anybody. He encouraged us to be friends with our siblings but some of his children’s mothers didn’t want their daughters to be friends with the other daughters, because they saw themselves as scorned women. But my father always fought for the unity of his family.

My father and I were always close, even after the divorce. When I was living in Chicago [with my mother] he would ask, ‘When is your volleyball game, when is your basketball game?’ He would schedule his visits around them, which was unbelievable for me.

I have been married but divorced after three years. I’m open to being married again, but I am not the kind of woman who has to define herself by marriage. My father didn’t put me off marriage, but I’m very cautious because of all the divorces I’ve seen in my family – and I don’t want children. I’m the eldest of 11 (including my mother’s other children) and I helped to raise two sisters on my mother’s side of the family. If I really want children, I’ll adopt.

My father’s wife Lonnie is a loving person but she’s not our mum – and over the years there has been ‘the stepmother dynamic’ that sometimes happens in families. My father’s dream was to live on the same street as all his children and their husbands and his grandchildren, but that hasn’t happened. He has houses in Arizona, Michigan and Kentucky and we drive to see him wherever he is at Christmas or on holidays.

          

Parkinson’s is an aggressive disease, it’s degenerative and takes away motor functions, and my father has had it for 30 years. But he’s not in any pain. He’s not bedridden. Spiritually, he’s in a good place. He doesn’t want people to feel sorry for him; he is at peace; he loves his life. I believe life is predestined and he has a beautiful legacy of standing up for his beliefs. He told me: ‘When you are in your casket, you’re not taking your house, your car, your rich friends or your career with you. What am I taking? The decisions I made with my family, my friends, what I learned from my mistakes, what I did on this earth and how I used my celebrity.’

I’ve seen my father sharp, young, bright and fighting and I’ve seen him through the gradual progression of Parkinson’s. But I just love him; he is a blessing. People ask me what it is like living in his shadow. But it’s not a shadow, it’s cool shade.

MUHAMMAD ALI'S LIFE STORY 

He was born Cassius Clay in Louisville, Kentucky in 1942. The legendary boxer won a gold medal at the 1960 Rome Olympics when he was 18, and he went on to become the world heavyweight champion three times. He is considered one of the greatest heavyweights in the sport’s history and was crowned Sports Personality of the Century by the BBC in December 1999.

Handsome, charismatic and brashly confident, with catchphrases such as ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’ and ‘I am the greatest’, Muhammad is as famous for his beliefs as for his boxing. He converted to Islam, changed his name and in 1967 refused to fight in the Vietnam war on religious grounds; he was arrested, found guilty of refusing induction and stripped of his heavyweight title.

Exiled from the sport for nearly four years, he appealed and the Supreme Court reversed the conviction in 1971. Returning to the ring, he had more wins in the 70s, with the ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ fight against George Foreman and the ‘Thrilla in Manila’ against Joe Frazier. In 1978 he won the heavyweight title for a record third time, with his victory over Leon Spinks. Muhammad’s last fight was in 1981 – he lost to Trevor Berbick – by which time he was showing symptoms of Parkinson’s, although he was not diagnosed for another three years.

Now suffering advanced Parkinson’s and living in Arizona with his fourth wife Lonnie, Muhammad has full-time care. His speech is extremely restricted but he can talk in a low voice. His daughter Hana – he has seven and two sons – says he still goes out using a wheelchair but can walk with assistance, and has retained his sense of humour. A committed humanitarian, he has continued his charity work for The Muhammad Ali Parkinson Center in Arizona, Unicef and many other causes.

Despite his fame, little is known about his life outside the ring. Now I Am Ali, a documentary from British director Clare Lewins, is set to change this, delivering moving insights into Muhammad as a father and husband. At the centre of the film are fascinating tape recordings of conversations he had with his children during the 70s, which have never been heard before, as well as home movies and archive footage. For a man who had a powerful and expressive voice that has almost been silenced, these audio snippets are all the more poignant.

Culled from ...DailyMail