The champ is here, the champ is here

I took my first boxing class tonight. Actually that's not true. I took a lesson once, and after a bit I told the guy let's spar. And he was like what? And at first he wasn't taking it seriously, and then I hit him with my nasty right hook. And he was like oh this bitch isn't playing. And then he literally punched me in my face...a fetish was born. I digress. So today's boxing lesson took me back to when I was little. Ali used to go to the same mosque as my parents, and my parents were also very friendly with his first wife. In fact they introduced May-may (Miriam Ali - his eldest daughter to her husband). Anyway I used to remember every Eid prayer/picnic Ali would show up and everybody would lose their shit in a mellow Muslim way (this was pre-suicide bombs and buildings falling in which Muslims started to get really really crunk). Anyway Ali always used to pick me up and pinch my cheeks. He said I looked like his daughters (plural - they're deep). I just remember him having the prettiest smile. Not at the time realizing what a legend, a man, a fighter, this lap I was sitting in. So yeah, that's my Ali story. I think everyone has at least one.