“Dad, Me, and Muhammad Ali scored a KNOCKOUT! Good, wholesome, easy read!”
—Angelo Dundee, Muhammad Ali's legendary trainer

“Great story; very engaging and one that families will certainly enjoy!”
—Roland C. Warren, President, National Fatherhood Initiative

Nine-year-old Jo-Jo’s father loves everything about Muhammad Ali. His sports room, filled to the brim with Ali memorabilia, is his pride and joy. But when an impromptu game of catch with his sister causes Jo-Jo to accidentally damage his dad’s favorite Muhammad Ali autographed picture, he knows he must do something to make everything right. But what?

Jo-Jo suddenly begins believing in miracles again when he manages to score tickets to an Ali event in Harlem. As Jo-Jo and his dad board a train bound for New York City, his father shares entertaining stories about Muhammad Ali. Now more than ever, Jo-Jo cannot wait to meet the greatest boxer of all time—the Champ. As Jo-Jo and his father join the more than two hundred fans that line up outside the bookstore, Jo-Jo has no idea he is about to receive the surprise of a lifetime.

Dad, Me, and Muhammad Ali is the heartwarming story of a loyal son, his loving father, and a magical afternoon that changes both of their lives forever.

It wasn’t my fault. I swear. It was an accident. My sister, Jalissa, and I were playing catch with a plastic ball in Dad’s sports room. Jalissa is four years younger than me. She has long, straight brown hair, light brown eyes, and doll-like fingers. Jalissa is the star of our family. The way my mom treats her, even you would think she was a star, too. She gets everything she wants, and gets away with a lot as well. We were just having a little fun. I tossed the ball, and it skipped off of Jalissa’s tiny hand. The ball tapped Dad’s autographed picture of Muhammad Ali.

I glanced over at Jalissa and watched in horror as the picture toppled. It was like watching a slow-motion replay. There was no time to stop it. The picture clanged and bounced onto the floor, and the glass broke. It sounded like it smashed into a million pieces—and that didn’t sound good. I felt my heart pounding against my skinny chest as if it wanted to jump out. Jalissa panicked and scurried up the squeaky stairs.

“I’m outta here, Jo,” she said, already halfway to the kitchen door.

“Help me pick it up! You dropped the ball! Come back and help me!” I yelled.