Facebook fans, Twitter followers, et al. of the 21st century terms and platforms have reduced the six degrees of separation equation by about two-thirds. Fame (or infamy) and attention is readily available at the click for those willing to make a spectacle of themselves. Not just fame on the local scale—we’re talking global. Crazy.

It wasn’t that long ago that if you attained that kind of attention, you would’ve had to have done something of consequence—something that could have ramifications on the course of history. Last week, we celebrated the birth of such an individual. Words such as integrity, honorable and brave, while appropriate, pale when describing his deeds as an individual, and as the years pass, we appreciate more and more how he stood on his principals and commitment while on the journey to greatness.

So while we had a holiday for the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., let’s not forget that on Jan. 17, we can pay homage to the “Greatest,” Muhammad Ali. Had Ali come along in another place and time, his exploits in his field, professional boxing, would still be of historic proportions.

Few if any, before or since, have been able to match his natural skill set. His instincts, reflexes and speed, along with pinpoint accuracy, belied a punching power that has separated quite a few from their senses. Couple those traits with a superior boxing mind, and you have one of the few men who can be argued to have personified in physical form the term “sweet science.”

Aside from the color he brought to the ring, his personality outside the ring was able to register where it counted most: the cash register. Love him or hate him, he commanded attention and people were willing to pay to see the show. And that was in a time when the competition was also at Hall of Fame levels.

In our lifetime, we have seen a continuum of the Ali formula in the sport of boxing through the likes of Ray Leonard and Floyd Mayweather Jr., and to a degree outside of boxing with the transcendent popularity of Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods. Here’s where the comparisons unfortunately end.

Ali was about people, more important, HIS people. BLACK people. He knew who he was and where he stood as a Black man in America. As the representative for America in the light heavyweight division and gold medal winner in the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome under his birth name, Cassius Clay, he came home to find that he was still unable to eat at the same station as white folk. Legend has it that he threw his gold medal into the Ohio River as a result. No press conference, no fanfare, just the need to be able to be able to look into the eyes of his reflection and not turn away.

Although the validity of that incident may be in question, his fight against the American government and the ideology of 1960s America is not. After winning the most prestigious title in sports at that time, Clay proclaimed allegiance to the teachings of Elijah Muhammad and embraced the religion of Islam. Along with that came a declaration of BLACK PRIDE, which set the stage for April 28, 1967, in Houston.

Ali was drafted by the United States Army in a time of war, and his quotes in reference to this were spread by the media for the world to hear: “I ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong. No Viet Cong ever called me nigger.

“No, I am not going 10,000 miles to help murder, kill and burn other people to simply help continue the domination of white slave masters over dark people the world over. This is the day and age when such evil injustice must come to an end.

“Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go 10,000 miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?”

“My enemy is the white people, not the Viet Cong. … You’re my opposer when I want freedom. You’re my opposer when I want justice. You’re my opposer when I want equality. You won’t even stand up for me in America because of my religious beliefs, and you want me to go somewhere and fight, when you won’t even stand up for my religious beliefs at home.”

Of course, there were ramifications to those words and actions. But losing three prime years of his athletic career and the financial gains that came along with it turned out to be a mere pittance when the eternal love and respect of your people comes on the back end.

When it was about to go down, he stood up, without wearing a T-shirt with a slogan. Fighters fight.

Here’s wishing you a happy belated birthday, champ.

Holla next week. Till then, enjoy the nightlife.