El presidente de los Estados Unidos, Barack Obama y la primera, Michelle Obama, rindieron tributo al boxeador Muhammad Ali.
El tributo fue esta mañana mediante un comunicado escrito por el presidente.
“Yo soy América” dijo alguna vez. “Yo soy esa parte que tú no reconoces. Pero acostúmbrate a mí – negro, confiado, retador, mi nombre, no el tuyo; mi religión, no la tuya; mis metas, mis cosas. Acostúmbrate a mí.”
Esa fue una de las citas que Obama incluyó en su discurso, el cual fue comentado en las redes sociales como nostálgico y conmovedor. Mira el discurso completo a continuación.
Muhammad Ali was The Greatest. Period. If you just asked
him, he’d tell you. He’d tell you he was the double greatest;
that he’d “handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder into jail.”
But what made The Champ the greatest – what truly
separated him from everyone else – is that everyone else
would tell you pretty much the same thing.
Like everyone else on the planet, Michelle and I mourn his
passing. But we’re also grateful to God for how fortunate we
are to have known him, if just for a while; for how fortunate
we all are that The Greatest chose to grace our time.
In my private study, just off the Oval Office, I keep a pair of
his gloves on display, just under that iconic photograph of
him – the young champ, just 22 years old, roaring like a lion
over a fallen Sonny Liston. I was too young when it was
taken to understand who he was – still Cassius Clay, already
an Olympic Gold Medal winner, yet to set out on a spiritual
journey that would lead him to his Muslim faith, exile him at
the peak of his power, and set the stage for his return to
greatness with a name as familiar to the downtrodden in the
slums of Southeast Asia and the villages of Africa as it was to
cheering crowds in Madison Square Garden.
“I am America,” he once declared. “I am the part you won’t
recognize. But get used to me – black, confident, cocky; my
name, not yours; my religion, not yours; my goals, my
own. Get used to me.”
That’s the Ali I came to know as I came of age – not just as
skilled a poet on the mic as he was a fighter in the ring, but a
man who fought for what was right. A man who fought for
us. He stood with King and Mandela; stood up when it was
hard; spoke out when others wouldn’t. His fight outside the
ring would cost him his title and his public standing. It
would earn him enemies on the left and the right, make him
reviled, and nearly send him to jail. But Ali stood his
ground. And his victory helped us get used to the America
we recognize today.
He wasn’t perfect, of course. For all his magic in the ring, he
could be careless with his words, and full of contradictions as
his faith evolved. But his wonderful, infectious, even
innocent spirit ultimately won him more fans than foes –
maybe because in him, we hoped to see something of
ourselves. Later, as his physical powers ebbed, he became an
even more powerful force for peace and reconciliation
around the world. We saw a man who said he was so mean
he’d make medicine sick reveal a soft spot, visiting children
with illness and disability around the world, telling them
they, too, could become the greatest. We watched a hero
light a torch, and fight his greatest fight of all on the world
stage once again; a battle against the disease that ravaged his
body, but couldn’t take the spark from his eyes.
Muhammad Ali shook up the world. And the world is better
for it. We are all better for it. Michelle and I send our
deepest condolences to his family, and we pray that the
greatest fighter of them all finally rests in peace.