Lawrence.com

Dear Mr. Ali,

What's up, champ?

It's been a long time since I've last written. The new movie "Ali" is about to open, so I figured I'd drop a note to say "hi" and "congrats." Also to say "thank you."

I figure you receive a ton of fan mail and it all blends together, so allow me to relate my story. I was a freshman at Kansas University. Being introduced to a new school and a new city, there were many things about Lawrence I wasn't exactly familiar with. One of those was an information phone number known as "KU Info."

This university-sponsored service allegedly knows everything. Give KU Info a call sometime if you ever have a chance, the number is (785) 864-3506. Ask them something tough, when it comes to trivia, they're "the greatest." Anyway, for a young freshman, it's reassuring to know that there is some all-knowing oracle you can consult to find any fact. People bragged to me, "You can call KU Info and ask them how many trees are on campus, and they know."

Well Champ, I'm sure it doesn't shock you to find out that I couldn't care less about how many trees are on the campus at KU. Always a curious person, I wanted to test the abilities of the folks manning the number. So I called them, and I asked a simple, yet important, question. "Can you tell me Muhammad Ali's address?" It took them maybe two minutes to come back with an answer. I was shocked.

So that's how I got your address.

I wrote a quick letter, declaring you one of my all-time favorite athletes. I also included one of your sports cards, a picture of you fighting Joe Louis. I put in a self-addressed stamped envelope and politely asked if you could sign the card and return it to me.

Almost three years later, my dad called from my hometown of Mulvane. He had a strange envelope addressed to me from "G.O.A.T." (Would that be Greatest Of All Time?) and wanted to let me know it had arrived at their house. He told me it looked to be in my own handwriting, and the envelope was fairly beat-up.

I told him to go ahead and open the letter. He did so, telling me, "There's a Muhammad Ali card inside ... and the back is signed by Ali!"

I about flipped out.

I wanted to drive the nearly three hours back home that moment just to see the card. But I waited until that weekend, and sure enough, it was just like dad said. Thanks. I was already a fan. But that put me over the edge. At that moment, you officially became the coolest sports hero a guy could have. While it may not seem like a big deal to you or to others, it meant a lot to me that you would take the time to open my letter and sign my card and send it back.

I'm a fan of yours for a couple reasons. One, there aren't any boxing heroes for someone my age. I love watching fights, but what heavyweight can I root for? I certainly can't support Mike Tyson. I enjoyed seeing him when he was in his prime, but I eventually cheered against him just because he struck me as a jerk. Then he got thrown in jail. Bad news � definitely a jerk. And then when he bit Holyfield ... well, I can't root for a fighter that bites. That just ain't pretty.

Holyfield? He never struck me as tough. He'd sing gospel music as he walked out to the ring, sometimes teary-eyed. There's no sting-like-a-bee there. I met Tommy Morrison once � seemed like a nice guy. But he lost a lot of fights, including one in the parking lot to Sylvester Stallone at the end of "Rocky V." Lennox Lewis is just annoying. I'll give him credit for being a great fighter, but he's another guy that, out of the ring, seems more likely to host "Antique Roadshow" than knock someone's block off.

But Champ, you scream out mean. Your trash-talking is superior. It makes watching fights fun. Had I grown up when you were boxing, I don't know if I would have rooted for or against you, but I'll tell you one thing for sure: I wouldn't have missed any of your bouts. Your charisma draws people to you. You made every match personal, every one a must-see battle. I truly wish the sport still had a character like you.

Then there was the time you fought Superman. And you whupped him bad, too. OK, I know you never really took on the Man of Steel, it was just a comic book. But "Superman vs. Muhammad Ali" was the first time I ever saw two of my favorite things in the world combined: comic books and sports. If Lois Lane had just gotten naked, I would have been in paradise.

The oversized comic came out in 1978, but I discovered it at a flea market years later. Sure, the plot was ripped off of the sci-fi classic "The Day the Earth Stood Still," but it was still great to see you pummel Supes for the right to represent Earth and save it from some tyrannical aliens.

I never saw George Foreman or Sonny Liston fight Spider-Man, or even some lame superhero like Green Arrow. But Ali, man, you were right there in my hands as a comic book character. It made you seem even more superhuman to me. But then you became real when you sent me that card.

With this letter, I'm enclosing that issue of "Superman vs. Muhammad Ali." If it's been awhile since you've seen it, feel free to read my copy. If you don't still have a copy, go ahead and keep mine. I can pick up another one on eBay or something.

If you have your own copy somewhere, would you be so kind as to autograph this comic for me? On the front cover, please, real big so I can show it off to my friends.

I'm sure your movie is going to "bum-ba-yay" at the box office. I know I'm excited. Hopefully, I'll hear back from you in a couple years. If not, no sweat, I realize you're busy.

Thanks again for being a delight to watch in the ring, and for making my month, back in mid-1996.

Cheers,

Seth Jones