Kram strips away the mythology that surrounds Ali.(Knight Ridder Newspapers)

PHILADELPHIA _ Muhammad Ali was a chameleon. Perverse. In reverse. Chameleons are lizards, capable of changing coloration to blend with their surroundings, keeping them safe from predators.

Ali could change in the blink of an eye, from kind to cruel, from soft to loud, from embracing white folks to vilifying white folks, from honoring ancient black fighters to demeaning current black opponents.

All those changes, swift and startling, screamed for attention. He bragged ("I am the greatest") and he preened ("Ain't I pretty?") and he angered bigots and he charmed liberals, and he strutted in the spotlight. Blend in? Ali desperately wanted to stand out! And he did.

Writers swarmed to him, awed by his boxing skills, dazzled by his charisma, giggling at his wretched poetry, staring at him through the prism of their own politics. You could build the world's biggest bonfire with all the flattering books written about him.

Mark Kram wants to splash gasoline on that pile, wants to toss a match into that pile. Hagiography, he sneers, and I had to look it up. It means idealizing or idolizing biography.

Kram, father of Philadelphia Daily News sports writer Mark Kram, has written a sizzling counterpoint, "Ghosts of Manila." Manila, that was the site of the last of three brutal fights against Joe Frazier, that's the one Ali described as the closest thing to death, that's the one where trainer Eddie Futch refused to allow the blinded Frazier to answer the bell for the 15th round.

Frazier emerges as the demeaned good guy, embittered by Ali's taunts, baffled by his racist prattling, eager to pound Ali's mouth shut, willing to wade through a fusillade of jabs to land a vicious left hook.