“Every time Muhammad Ali had fights, the Blacks would show out. There’d be pictures in Jet Magazine. Everyone would be by the ring in their macrame hot pants and gold belts. I was inspired. I took a pair of pants and cut them so fucking short my pockets were coming out the bottom. Then I put on a baby blue ribbed lycra sweater. I was all of maybe nine years old, but I felt like the world was mine. I strutted over to my best friend’s house, and rang the doorbell. I said: ‘Is Brad home?’ His mom took one look at me and said: ‘Oh no, baby. He ain’t here.’”