and others of the louisville sponsoring group in a crowd of predominantly white people, drinking free drinks at the hastily arranged victory party, wait. sportswriters. jimmy cannon, red smith. cassius, sr. is there. they all wait. no sign of cassius. "where's your boy?" a young new york times sportswriter, robert lipsyte, is there as well. he looks like he doesn't belong. his clothes are only perfunctorily conventional, and he's a generation younger.
as if they were pointing at a burning fire, sirens, blue police flashers, an isolated gunshot. and reveal ali on a rooftop, in sweatpants, sweatshirt, shadowboxing while.
grabbing. holding. ali's got joe's powerful left tied up this time. a clinch. separating. a punch. a hook. clinching. they separate.
celebrate. the city is crazy with the air of liberation in the rain. people are drunk, bowing to one another, extending their arms and legs in strange gestures. laughter. thunder is deafening in the downpour. people celebrate despite the storm, dancing on sidewalks on rua absini.