Ali And Cosell: one was the great-grandson of slaves and a convert to Islam, the other was the son of polish immigrants and a nonobservant Jew. But as a new biography reveals, theirs was a partnership that transcended race, religion, and personal history and would ultimately knock the world off its feet, here, an exclusive sneak peek

Individually, Muhammad Ali and Howard Cosell were two of the most interesting personalities to emerge from the '60s and '70s, each in their way establishing new standards by which to judge success in their respective fields. View them together, however, and one begins to see how their influence was able to expand beyond their individual arenas--professional athletics for Ali, sports broadcasting for Cosell--and into the larger playing fields of politics, religion, and popular culture. For more than 20 years the two appeared together in countless interviews and at scores of sporting events, all the while forming a unique friendship-cum-partnership that would prove key in allowing each the opportunity to become the figure that we know today. It's a relationship that journalist Dave Kindred explores in Sound and Fury: Two Parallel Lives, One Fateful Friendship (due out this month from Free Press), and which is perfectly captured in the following excerpt from his joint biography.

On a day in January of 1971, Cosell and Emmy [his wife] were poolside at Miami's Americana Hotel when they heard a familiar voice.

That voice ... Muhammad All, in full cry: "Where is he?"

Cosell raised from his chaise longue.

"Where's that white fella who gives me so much trouble? Where's Cosell?" He had created a rhyme. "When I'm finished with Frazier, at the sound of the bell... "Quickly now... "I'll jump through the ropes--and take care of Cosell!"

The act had been big before, but not this big, Ali again a fighter, Cosell a household curse, both men famous and infamous, each magnified by the other's presence. Now Ali had an idea for a field trip in Miami, as he said to Emmy, "I want your husband. I want to take him with me. I want to show him it's only 15 minutes from heaven to hell."

"Take him," Emmy said, somewhat more cheerily than her husband would have liked. "He's yours."

When Cosell protested the dragooning, Ali said, "I know what you've been saying about me. 'He's not in shape; his speed is gone.' I'm gonna take care of you today." They drove across the 79th Street Causeway into Miami. "I'm gonna take you to the ghetto to meet my people," Ali said. "You'll see what life is really like."

"I've seen Harlem and I've seen Watts," Cosell said. "It won't be news to me."

"Listen," Ali said, "there's something else I want to talk to you about. It's that football business you're involved in. And this guy who works with you. What's his name? Dandy? I think you're making too much of him. You gotta remember, we're the number one act in sports."

There was reason to doubt that. Ali had returned to the ring only three months earlier, after three and a half years gone. To a new set of

fans, Ali was an old-timer who had come back to fight Quarry and Bonavena. Maybe he was good enough to handle Frazier, maybe not. Meanwhile, in its first season, Monday Night Football had become the hottest item in popular culture with "Humble Howard" and "Dandy Don" its stars. Still, the flash of Ali's insecurity surprised Cosell.

"You're a nut," Cosell said. And Ali, happy with that affirmation, drove on to a pool parlor in one of Miami's black neighborhoods, there herding Cosell into the shadows and announcing, "Here he is! Here's the white guy who gives me all that trouble on television!" Cosell heard more. Like, Come here, boys, it's our turn to give him trouble. And, We been waiting for this, ain't we, boys? The players gathered around Cosell, whose trips to Harlem and Watts may not have included personal confrontation with men moving in cool darkness carrying pool cues in service of the most famous black man on earth.

He told Ali, "Knock it off. These guys might take you seriously."

Ali threw an arm around Cosell's shoulder, "I'm only kidding," he told the pool shooters. "He's my friend." Leaving, Ali whispered into Cosell's ear. "Call me 'nigger.'"

"No way. I may have a few years left." Next stop, a barbershop, where Ali put Cosell into a chair and shouted to the crowd, "Let's give Howard a haircut. Howard needs a haircut bad, don't he?"

Not really, though he did not have on his toupee. "Lay off me, Muhammad," Cosell said. He squirmed to get out of the chair. "I have little enough hair as it is."

Back at the Americana, Emmy asked Howard, "What did Muhammad want?"

"It was strange," he said. "Somehow he felt he wanted to be with me. Maybe because he's coming up to the fight of his life, and because we've been together so long. Maybe because he feels kind of lonely, with so many writers picking Frazier. And he did want me to see the ghetto, where he had hung out when he first came down here."

He also told her about Ali's mention of Don Meredith. Emmy said, "Is he worried that will change what you think of him?"