Las Vegas woman’s kindness was appreciated by Muhammad Ali
It must have been 1999, Sarah Edwards said. She was traveling from Miami, where she had lived for 30 years before retiring to Las Vegas. She said she was going to North Carolina to see her son.
She was at airport gate when it was announced there was a man on the stand-by list who also was trying to get from Miami to North Carolina, and this man was not feeling well.
Sarah Edwards went to the podium and said she would give up her seat. Consideration for others always had been one of her strong points, she said.
The people at the airline thought that was very generous. They asked if she wanted to meet the person who was not feeling well.
Sure, she said. Why not?
It was Muhammad Ali.
Sarah Edwards said she wasn’t a boxing fan, but as a citizen of the world, she knew who Muhammad Ali was.
“He wanted to pay me $400,” she said during a chat on the telephone this week before the boxing champion and global icon was laid to rest in his hometown of Louisville, Kentucky. “I said that wasn’t necessary.”
She said Ali could not speak, owing to the ravages of Parkinson’s disease.
But she said he gave her a hug.
“He put his arms around me as well as he could. What impressed me so much was his loving mannerism. He was so sweet.”
It had been 17 years or so since Sarah Edwards’ brush with greatness, but you could tell she was still enamored of Ali, of having met him, of having been touched by his humanity — and by his human frailty, too.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a photo, would you?”
She said she sure did. Somebody from the airline had snapped one.
It has been nine days since Muhammad Ali died.
You wonder how many pictures like this one of Sarah Edwards and Ali are still being shown to loved ones, to friends and neighbors, and even to people who are perfect strangers.
GORDIE HOWE 1928-2016
A couple of years ago, after Gordie Howe had suffered another serious stroke and it appeared the end was near, I wrote about having spent part of an evening with him when I was just starting out as a sportswriter in Las Vegas.
Mr. Hockey was at a cocktail reception at the Las Vegas Hilton. It may have been for the Miller beer All-Stars; it might have been for another group that had flown him in for an appearance and to rub elbows with corporate big-wigs. No matter. He suggested we go to his suite to chat. It was just Gordie and me and his publicist/ride to the airport.
He said his flight didn’t leave for three hours.
So we talked old-time hockey, like a couple of old pond hockey pals. Bobby Hull, Alex Delvecchio, Ted Lindsay. The Mahovolich brothers.
I wrote about that night, and about what an impression Gordie Howe made on a young Las Vegas sportswriter — about how kind and accommodating he was, which I didn’t anticipate, given his tenacious playing style and the ferocity with which he dug the puck out of the corners for the 50 years or so (it seemed) he played for the Red Wings, Aeros and Whalers.
It was meant to be a tribute. A eulogy or sorts. But then Gordie Howe got tenacious again, and lived to skate another shift.
You wouldn’t have expected anything less.
And while I’m not going to repeat everything I wrote in 2014, now that the end has come, I would just like to say for the record that everything still stands.
About how Mr. Hockey offered me a cold Miller Lite, and that when I called him Mr. Howe he put up his hand and said to call him Gordie.
HAMMER TIME FOR CHARITY
If you want to know what kind of hockey player Bob “The Hammer” Fleming was, click on Hockeyfights.com and do a search for his name. You’ll see him raining punches on former Las Vegas Thunder tough guy Kirk Tomlinson in two classic displays of fisticuffs when Fleming was with Adirondack of the American Hockey League and Tomlinson was with Rochester.
The only thing bigger than The Hammer’s mustache were the left hands he landed on Tomlinson.
But if you want to know what kind of man Bob Fleming is, pay him a visit Sunday at the tavern he owns in Henderson — Hammer’s Bar & Grill at 777 E. Horizon Dr., just around the corner from the College of Southern Nevada.
The Hammer will be making bloody marys for a good cause — proceeds generated by the Las Vegas Bloody Mary Challenge will benefit the Children’s Hospital of Nevada at UMC.
Bob Fleming will be making bloody marys starting at noon. The Hammer said he was thinking about wearing a crazy costume and perhaps even growing out his mustache that once was given two minutes for instigating against the Baltimore Skipjacks.
BIG RED’S GUY
Before last Saturday’s Best of Nevada Preps banquet at Red Rock resort, R-J collegue Ed Graney suggested we should ad-lib a remark about Bill Walton before we announced a few of the winners, and the guest speaker with the bad knees and feet posed for photos with them.
I said it seemed like only yesterday — when it fact it had been around 12,000 yesterdays — that I watched the big man with the bum knees and feet score 44 points in the 1973 NCAA championship game against Memphis State
The Big Redhead, No. 32, made 21 of 22 shots from the field. And Larry Kenon was guarding him most of the time. Special K was no slouch.
Another guy on UCLA named Greg Lee, No. 43, scored five points. Lee made 1 of 1 from the field, I said. But he had 14 assists. I think all of them were to the Big Redhead.
I don’t know what caused me to mention Greg Lee. His name, like an old BTO song, just popped into mind for some reason.
When I mentioned Greg Lee, Bill Walton turned toward the podium and raised his fists into the air.
During the intermission, he followed me nearly all the way to the men’s room. He thanked me for having mentioned his pal, who became a Hall-of-Fame beach volleyball player and then a high school basketball coach. Walton’s son Luke played for Greg Lee.
I didn’t know what to say.
“So how’s he doing anyway?”
Bill Walton said Greg Lee was not doing well, but he did not elaborate.
Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.
