I've never been a big fan of boxing; the attraction of seeing two people whale away on each other has always alluded me. There's also always been that sort of sleazy aftertaste associated with the sport; poor kids from the slums risking their lives and unscrupulous promoters making big money from their sweat.

But there was a period of about eight or nine years from 1970 onwards, that one figure stood out in the boxing world as no other had before or will ever again. I first became aware of Muhammad Ali when he lost his come back fight to Joe Frazier in 1970. It was his first fight back after having had his world heavyweight title stripped from him for refusing to report for the draft and fight in Viet Nam.

I was only nine years old at the time and knew nothing of the background behind the fight, Ali's history as the young Cassius Clay, his conversion to Islam, or his history of draft resistance. But there was something about him that captured my imagination, and held me enthralled up to his rematch with Leon Spinks where he once again retained his championship.

When Frazier beat him in 1970 I remember being disappointed, but if you had asked me why I probably wouldn't have been able to tell you. Looking back on it now I understand my feelings better. They were all brought back the other day by an article in the on line "Globe and Mail" which reported on the forty best magazine covers of the past forty years.

The initial picture that accompanied the article was actually of the third place winner: Esquires' 1968 picture of Muhammad Ali pierced by a number of arrows a la St. Sebastian. They had obviously chosen the image to depict his tribulations over being banned from boxing because of his refusal to fight. I wonder now if the irony of a fighter refusing to fight in a war was lost on people back then? Or were there so many other issues in America in 1968 that irony was a luxury reserved for people outside the fray?

I understand now why Ali appealed to me unlike the rest of my classmates, who merely parroted the putdowns that were common those days: boastful, obnoxious, and a show off. Abuse victims need figures of hope and encouragement; they also cheer for the outsider and the underdog. If he or she loses the disappointment isn't as bad, but if they do win out against the odds, than it gives you hope for yourself.

I doubt that any of those thoughts would have formed that coherently in my young confused brain when I chose to identify with Ali, I just thought he was cool. Neither my parents nor older brother had much interest in sports, so there was little or no influence exerted on me when it came to decisions about whom to support or cheer for. The only conflicts that ever ensued was attempting to read the sports section to find out the results of his matches.