athlonsports.com

When Mohammed Ali needed an accountant, he turned to Arthur Andersen, one of the world’s largest accounting firms, which put a 23-year-old, Elliott Broidy in charge of Ali’s dollars and cents. Broidy came to see a surprising side of the world’s most iconic boxer.

“I was just lucky I got assigned an account like that,” Broidy said. “I was a big boxing fan and obviously a huge fan of Muhammad Ali’s.”

He met Ali in 1979 and this is first time Broidy has talked about his time with the boxing legend.

While it was the twilight of Ali’s boxing career, it was just the start of Broidy’s. He had just graduated from USC School of Accounting. He had reporting to Arthur Andersen’s steel gray tower in Los Angeles for barely six months.

At the time, Ali was a brand-new client of the accounting firm.

At their first meeting, Ali stuck out his hand and Broidy put out his. “When he shook my hand, it disappeared into his,” Broidy said. “It was an adult shaking a six-year-old’s hand.”

During Ali’s visit to Arthur Andersen’s Los Angeles office, Broidy wanted to known how the champion wanted to me addressed. Mr. Ali? Mr. Clay?

Ali sounded almost offhand. Either “Ali” or “Champ” would be fine.

Ali was a hit with every person in the office no matter their position, from the partners to the secretaries. “He was incredibly warm and nice,” Broidy said.

Ali had spent some of his most formative years in Chicago’s South Side — where Ali spent his “exile period” after he famously refused to enlist during the Vietnam War—and had been referred to Arthur Andersen by Ali’s Chicago-based law firm, Hopkins and Sutter.

Ali handed Broidy a big pile of work. “The purpose of Ali’s engagement of Arthur Andersen was to address multiple years of IRS audits and future financial planning,” he said. “His record keeping was less than optimal, which was particularly challenging for our team.” Broidy has a talent for understatement.

Over the course of their three years working together, from 1979 to 1982, Broidy, on his own initiative, would meet monthly with Ali at the boxing icon’s Los Angeles mansion in Fremont Place, a gated community adjacent to Hancock Park and Windsor Square. This was near the end of Ali’s boxing career, coinciding with his 1980 bout with Larry Holmes—for which Ali was reportedly paid $8 million—as well as his 1981 match against the mediocre Trevor Berbick—which, billed as the “Drama in Bahama,” would be the then-39-year-old Ali’s final adventure in the ring after he lost in a unanimous 10-round decision.

“I was optimistic about Ali’s chances,” Broidy, who attended the Holmes fight, said, “But Larry was too strong, too young.”

But Broidy’s focus was Ali’s challenges outside the ring. Reviewing Ali’s finances, Broidy tried reining in some of The Champ’s reckless spending. While’s Ali’s gross income for 1972 to 1981 was north of $80 million, including endorsements and appearance fees, which in today’s dollars would be almost $250 million, his kindness manifested itself in the piles of money he provided to the people in his life, including his spiritual leader and business partner Herbert Mohammad, his manager, Angelo Dundee, his photographer and friend, Howard Bingham and many other people in his entourage. Herbert Mohammed ran the Nation of Islam, a religious sect.

One day, Ali’s close friend and personal bodyguard, James Anderson, came to Ali while Broidy was sitting with him and told him he needed money to help his ailing mother in Atlanta. Ali asked his assistant Marge Thomas to write James a check for $10,000 on the spot. After Marge and James had left the room, Broidy told Ali he too had a sick mother and asked Ali to write him a check for $10,000.

“Get outta here!” Ali said to Broidy, laughing.

Broidy began to genuinely worry if Ali’s money would last. After taxes, large percentages allocated to Herbert Mohammad and his manager, salaries and bonuses to his employees, and money given freely to his friends, along with taking care of his nine children from three wives and two other women—including Ali’s then-wife Veronica Porché Ali—it did not leave him with that much. So, Broidy took it upon himself to do a projection of how long it would be until The Champ ran out of money given his excessive spending.

“It wasn’t long,” Broidy said. “Ali said he didn’t care. He had to take care of his family and friends. Ali even took fights in his later years, including the Holmes and Berbick fights, just to get more millions into his coffers “so he could continue helping his friends and family.”

While those in Ali’s inner circle expressed concern about Ali getting injured during those late-career fights, Broidy concentrated on Ali’s spending. For the Berbick fight, Ali was being paid more than $1 million, and Broidy was worried that the Champ would squander it.

“I would talk to his attorney at the Chicago law firm and ask him, ‘How do we stop him from giving all his money away?’” Broidy recalled. “His attorney said, ‘We’ve been trying for years to stop him. He’s his own person and will always do whatever he wants.’”

Somehow, Ali’s money lasted for years. Decades later, Broidy was happy to learn that Ali had sold his likeness in 2005 and made tens of millions of dollars.

When Broidy was in Ali’s company, Ali often entertained him by cracking jokes or even doing magic tricks. “One time,” Broidy said, “He told me he could magically take my shirt off. He was so strong he whipped the shirt right over my head in one fell swoop only breaking a few buttons in the process!”

“What a great guy he was,” Broidy said. “He had an amazing sense of humor.”

That wasn’t to say Ali couldn’t be serious. When he was training for a fight, the legendary boxer’s work ethic was unparalleled, which explained why he was such a successful fighter.

Ali was equally passionate about his Islamic faith. While many, in the late-1960s, expressed skepticism about Ali’s reasons for evading the U.S. military draft, Broidy believed Ali was sincere in citing his religious beliefs as to why he refused to enlist. During his time working with Ali, in fact, Broidy observed firsthand Ali’s commitment to Islam.

“He would sit with me in his dining room reading the Koran out loud and explaining it to me,” Broidy said.

Eventually, Broidy left Ali’s side and resigned from Arthur Andersen, to manage the family office of Glen Bell, founder of Taco Bell, before pursuing other professional opportunities.

But all these years later, even after working with high-profile clients including real estate developer Maguire Thomas and MGM/UA Home Entertainment, Broidy’s time working with Ali stays with him. Most of all, he remembers the joy, optimism and lack of cynicism that Ali exhibited despite the challenges he faced, including his eventual struggle with Parkinson’s. As someone whose father battled Parkinson’s for 15 years, Broidy knew how hard that must’ve been for Ali.

In Broidy’s Boca Raton, Florida home is a LeRoy Neiman painting of Ali, hanging in Broidy’s office, as well as a signed Ali boxing glove that he purchased years ago. Whenever Broidy looks at the two items, he’s reminded of Ali’s kindness, generosity, determination and resilience—attributes that continue to inspire him.