1960 Ad

HE was only 18 years old, but everyone who came in contact with him that memorable summer of 1960 in Rome, Italy, realized that here was a highly unusual kid. Brash, irreverent and inquisitive, the gangly youngster from Louisville, Ky., with the unlikely name of Cassius Marcellus Clay had come to look, see, be seen and conquer and to establish himself as the Olympic light heavyweight king. With 108 bouts, including 100 victories, under his belt, he had every reason to be confident. But instead of concentrating on the tasks ahead, he spent his time roaming the Olympic Village, taking pictures and introducing himself to members of the various athletic teams until there were few people left who didn't know Cassius Clay. Wrote a reporter of the peripathetic young pugilist at the time, "If anyone had held an election for mayor of the Olympic Village, Cassius Clay would have been a prime candidate."

So much did the young Kentuckian move about that his coach feared he'd wear himself out before fighting a single bout. But not to worry. At the opening bell for his first fight against Yan Becaus of Belgium, Cassius "moved with lightning speed, firing rights and lefts in stunning combinations." Frequently holding his hands low and daring his opponent to lead, he introduced a new dance-like maneuver which, several years later after he had changed his name to Muhammad Ali, became known throughout the boxing world as the Ali shuffle.

Cassius wasted little time with the Belgian, knocking him out in the second round. He followed up his victory by winning convincing decisions over Gennady Schatkov of the Soviet Union, Tony Madigan of Australia and, finally for the gold medal, over Zbiegniew Pietrzykowski of Poland.

There was a poignant postscript to Cassius' winning of the gold medal, which he had coveted so much and for which he had fought so brilliantly. When, after his triumphant return to a hero's welcome in Louisville, he was refused service at a local restaurant, the disillusioned athlete impulsively took his gold medal and threw it into the Ohio River. It was a portentous move for the young man who, as heavyweight champion of the world, would become an outspoken critic of racism and-by his own and many people's assessment-the greatest boxer of all times.