I want to be a “legend” Usain Bolt declared prior to the opening of last year’s London Olympic Games. “I want to be remembered as the greatest sprinter of all time.”

The sentiments took me back to another young man; a young black American who, in 1964, gave new meaning to those few words echoed after falling Sonny Liston. Cassius Marcellus Clay announced himself to the throng at the Miami auditorium “I am the greatest”. He knew it then, and he proved it therafter.

In a career that has become the standard that all boxers have been subsequently assessed, Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali and became boxing’s standard. In 1999, Sports Illustrated declared Muhammad Ali the “Sportsman of the Century” and the BBC declared him “The greatest sporting personality of the 20th century”.

Heady stuff, especially when considered against his accomplishments and that of the other contenders. Ali’s biggest fight, though, wasn’t played out in the ring, but in front of the justices of the US Supreme Court; the consequence of an action driven by his belief. In 1967, three years after winning the heavyweight title, Ali refused to be conscripted into the US military, citing his religious beliefs and opposition to the Vietnam War. He was eventually arrested and found guilty on draft evasion charges and stripped of his boxing title. He did not fight again for nearly four years; losing a time of peak performance in an athlete’s career. Ali’s appeal worked its way up to the US Supreme Court, where in 1971 his conviction was overturned. Ali’s personal courage as a conscientious objector to the war made him an icon for the larger counterculture generation.

Fast-forward to this past weekend in Monaco, when Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce decided as a champion athlete to “stand her ground” and called on the “powers that be” to do something in the face of the withering attack against the integrity of Jamaica’s track programme. Shelly-Ann called on Jamaican athletes to band together… to strike, if necessary, in order to get their points across. The great Usain Bolt responded: “Shelly, yuh deh pon yuh own…me nuh eena nuh strike business.” Simply put, Bolt was not interested in committing to industrial action to prove a point. The iconic sprinter, who rakes in over US$20 million a year in endorsements alone, according to Forbes, is certainly bothered by the threat to his mega million-dollar commercial juggernaut.

My heart almost stopped when I read the comment attributed to him. Usain Bolt is the biggest name in track and field, and I wondered if he knew that sometimes some causes are bigger than even the biggest of us. For, the destruction of the track and field in Jamaica is the destruction of not just Bolt’s livelihood, but also the destruction of the portal of development for thousands of Jamaicans now in the system and of hundreds of thousands yet unborn. His assessment was, for me, disappointing, but not surprising. After all, nothing in his life had ever prepared him for this type of stage, and conscience does not come out of thin air. There, at least he is normal. Greatness, though, is not normal; and maybe therein lies the difference. Ali wasn’t normal.

Shelly-Ann, though, always had my attention now she has my vote and my heart because she understands. Hopefully, in a quiet moment someone may find the guts to tell Bolt that, with such an attitude, greatness still eludes him.

richardhblackford@gmail.com