The People’s Champion: Ali on the Streets of New York and Overtown

Away from the ring and the training camp, Muhammad Ali belonged to the streets. Not in any abstract sense, but physically, visibly, surrounded by crowds wherever he walked. Chris Smith’s photographs from New York and Miami’s Overtown neighbourhood capture a side of Ali that fight-night images never could: the champion as a public figure moving through the world he claimed to represent, touching it and being touched by it in return.

Overtown – Ali Walks Through Miami’s Black Heartland

Overtown in the early 1970s was the cultural and commercial centre of Black Miami – a neighbourhood of restaurants, barbershops, churches and street corners where Ali was not merely recognised but claimed. In Smith’s photographs, Ali moves through the district with actor Burt Lancaster, a friend and supporter, accompanied by the ever-present Reggie Thomas. The images show storefronts with hand-painted signs, older men in hats watching from doorways, and children stopping in their tracks at the sight of the champion.

In one striking frame, Ali stands outside a drugstore, towering over shoppers and passers-by, one hand raised in greeting or performance – the line between the two always blurred with Ali. In another, he squares up playfully with a local man in a fringed outfit and headband while a crowd of onlookers gathers behind them, grinning. These are not posed publicity shots; they are moments of genuine street theatre, improvised and alive.

Images: Pages 32, 33, 34, 35 – Ali in Overtown drugstore; sparring playfully with a local; outside the Polite Restaurant; walking through the neighbourhood with children following.

Reggie Thomas – The Quiet Force at Ali’s Side

“But Reggie really was a formidable force.”

– Chris Smith

Reggie Thomas appears throughout Smith’s Miami and New York photographs: a compact figure in a flat cap and pull-on boots, positioned just behind Ali or scanning the crowd from the edge of the frame. Smith describes him as a Muslim agent from Chicago who served as chauffeur and bodyguard, a man whose composed features and watchful eyes marked him instantly as someone not to be tested.

Smith recalled asking one of Ali’s cornermen what exactly Reggie did around the camp. The answer, repeated three times with growing emphasis, was simply that Reggie was from Chicago – and that said everything. On a visit to Overtown, when a playful sparring session between Ali and a local man named Nicodemus began to turn serious, it was Reggie who stepped in with hard stares and sharp elbows to restore order. Even Smokey the Bear, a professional wrestler in the group, admitted he would have hidden behind Reggie if things had escalated.

Images: Pages 30, 32 – Reggie at the gym door; Reggie in the background as Ali walks through Overtown.

Times Square – Ali Owns the Sidewalk

In New York, before the second Frazier fight, Smith photographed Ali on the streets around Times Square – 42nd Street, the theatre marquees, the traffic, the pretzel vendors and the crowds that gathered the moment he stepped out of a car. Ali wore a grey pinstripe suit and a wide floral tie, looking every inch the star. Yet the photographs resist the expected glamour. Instead, they show a man navigating a city that adores and consumes him in equal measure.

In one frame, Ali is caught mid-stride on the pavement, looking back over his shoulder with a wave, the Broadway signs and vintage cars stretching into the background. In another, he is surrounded by fans pressing scraps of paper toward him for autographs, women smiling, men reaching. The density of these images – every inch of the frame filled with faces, signs, movement – captures the gravitational force Ali exerted on any public space he entered.

“When he went out people just loved him.”

– Chris Smith

Images: Pages 42, 43, 44 – Ali on 42nd Street; walking past vendors; signing autographs for fans.

The Showman – Wanted Posters and Playful Provocation

Ali’s wit was inseparable from his public persona, and Smith’s camera catches it at full tilt. In one memorable portrait, Ali holds up a hand-drawn “Wanted” poster for himself: “Wanted – Muhammad Ali – For the Illegal Whuppin’ of Joe ‘Tramp’ Frazier – Reward.” His eyes are wide, mock-serious, daring the viewer to laugh. It is a piece of pure Ali: self-promotion disguised as comedy, psychological warfare dressed up as a joke.

Smith recalled how Ali loved tricks and jokes, describing him as endlessly playful. On a visit to a school for Black Muslim children in Chicago, Ali quizzed the pupils with the deadpan riddle of what the world weighs, delivering a punchline that left everyone laughing. That same energy runs through the “Wanted” poster photograph: the delight in performance, the sly intelligence behind the clowning, the absolute certainty that every room – and every camera – belongs to him.

Image: Page 45 – Ali holding the “Wanted” poster.

Why These Street Photographs Matter to Collectors

Fight photographs capture what Ali did. Street photographs capture who he was. The images in this collection show Ali as a figure of immense charisma moving through real neighbourhoods, real crowds, real life – not the controlled environment of a ring or a studio. For collectors of limited-edition prints, they offer something the famous action shots cannot: a sense of Ali’s relationship with the world beyond boxing.

A print of Ali on 42nd Street or walking through Overtown carries the texture of an era – the cars, the signage, the clothing, the faces – as well as the magnetism of the man at its centre. These are photographs that tell a story every time you look at them, and they reward the kind of sustained attention that only a gallery-quality print on a wall can provide.