Sport: Ali in Wonderland

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The visitors from America had come to pay a courtesy call on Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos and his stylish wife Imelda. Dutifully diplomatic, they praised Autocrat Marcos for his leadership and vision. The President was flattered, and one of the guests continued to gush. "Looking at the way you chose your wife, I can see you're not so dumb," said Muhammad Ali. Joe Frazier flinched, but Marcos quickly counterpunched. "Looking at yours," he informed the heavyweight champ, "I can see you're not so far behind."

If Ali's reception in Manila was any indication, he may in fact be far ahead. Fully 5,000 Filipinos jammed the airport just after dawn one day last week to welcome him. As the door of the 707 opened, a solitary tenor launched into the opening verse of a ballad commissioned for the occasion. The warrior emerged from the jet, paused, then strutted down the steps to the strains of The Muhammad Ali March.

Ostensibly, Ali had come to defend his title against Frazier in an extravaganza he touts as the "Thrilla in Manila." In fact, the expedition resembles nothing so much as a royal tour. Ali has become one of the most readily recognized individuals in the world. Since he inaugurated his gaudy Third World road show with a knockout of George Foreman a year ago in Zaïre, he has parleyed with Presidents and sheiks. What's more, his pitchman's prattle and irrepressible posturing have never failed to captivate the common fan.

Not Too Shy. In his own words he is "bigger than the Kentucky Derby, the World Series and the Indianapolis 500." Lest these seem too parochial, he is not too shy to suggest he even possesses the power to part oceans. If he is not omnipotent, Ali is at least inexhaustible. Within hours of his arrival he waltzed through a workout and presided over a press conference. "What is Frazier mad at me for?" he asked. "I have made him the second most famous athlete."

Not quite. Frazier labors like a thief in the night—alone and almost totally ignored. His arrival ceremony in the Philippines barely lasted a minute. He sticks close to his suite where he peels grapefruit and plays high-stakes blackjack with his sparring partners to pass the time. On his first morning of roadwork, he found the Manila streets clogged with joggers; he was later granted special government permission to start before the national curfew is lifted at 4 a.m. In the afternoon, he retreats to his dressing room, which is decorated in the same red and blue motif that jazzes up his gym in Philadelphia.

Good Target. When Ali flew in, Frazier sent his 15-year-old son Marvis to heckle the champ by singing the latest Frazier recording, First-Round Knockout. Ali couldn't resist the chance to spar. Summoning Marvis to the microphone, he said, "He's better looking than his father, and he makes more sense." Marvis bravely sang on. "Hey, that's good" said Ali. "He even talks better than his father."