Like a tank, the light green fire truck slowly, purposefully churned its way down the streets of Windham, Ohio, one lazy afternoon every summer. But the low droning of the engine wasn't the machine's harbinger. It was a repetitive, muffled announcement, barely audible at first over the public address system, that got louder as the truck got closer.

	Ali and Frazier meet again -- only this time, it's Laila and Jacqui.

Some years the message was unintelligible, but that didn't mean us kids didn't know what it said. I can hear the mantra in my head right now, plain as the mole on Sarah Jessica Parker's chin.

Presale ride tickets are now on sale at the fire station for the carnivaaaaaalllll.

Windham is a depressed village not known for its bustle. How many villages of a few thousand people have project housing? Not many. So when the volunteer fire department's annual carnival rolled into town, it was something to behold.

The rides were hardly operable, but their magnificent lights illuminated the school yard like the Las Vegas Strip, and for a preadolescent boy from the heartland, the options seemed as limitless.

You could toss rings over various items and maybe win a mirror with an AC/DC logo or a Farrah Fawcett poster. You could bust balloons to win some decorative feathers that looked suspiciously like a roach clip.

Of course, by the time the carnies packed up their wares and the smell of cotton candy wafted off to another town, a hollow feeling occupied my gut. I never got the hint after several consecutive summers that, as sure as that fire engine roared through town, I was doomed to feel ashamed for trading hours of time and a month's allowance for useless trinkets.

Until this past week, I thought I was too mature to get suckered in by a carnival atmosphere. By living much of what I refer to as my Formative Years in Las Vegas, I eventually and proudly learned how to temper my impulsiveness.

Now I find myself sitting in a dumpy hotel off the New York Thruway with the Putt Putt Golf Courses Championship on ESPN and my attention on a circus sideshow unlike any I've come across. It's not the biggest, mind you, but it certainly is something to gawk at.

Friday night at the Turning Stone Casino Resort in Verona, N.Y., Muhammad Ali's daughter will fight Joe Frazier's daughter.

Cue the calliope music.

Under a temporary tent in the casino parking lot -- the Big Top, if you will -- Laila Ali and Jacqui Frazier-Lyde have found a way to make money off their fathers' bitter rivalry.

The pay-per-view event (suggested price $29.95) is shamelessly billed as Ali-Frazier IV and is being promoted by the fighters' husbands. Anybody else see something extra sleazy in that? If not, consider the fact that Johnny McClain, Laila Ali's other half, nagged her into taking this bout.

It's a potential moneymaker for all involved. Ali-Frazier is the most storied rivalry in boxing history and arguably in all of sport. Their glorious trilogy started with Frazier's stunning defeat of Ali in 1971. It ended with the "Thrilla in Manila" in 1975, a furious and brutal match that quite possibly ranks as the best ever.

The bad blood still pumps through the veins of Frazier and Ali nearly three decades later, and it has surged even more furiously since the release of the controversial Mark Kram book "Ghosts of Manila" and an article that appears in the current issue of TV Guide.

The original clash was played out against a backdrop of the Vietnam War and took place as racial tensions were escalating in the U.S. Before the bout, Ali positioned himself as the champion of black America, while portraying Frazier as an ignorant tool for Whitey.

Ali called Frazier an "Uncle Tom." Ali called him a "gorilla" before their last bout. The insults deeply wounded Frazier, who grew up in the deep South much poorer than Ali.

Ali finally apologized to Frazier in a March 15 story in the New York Times. But in an article in the current edition of TV Guide, Frazier wondered why Ali has never said he was sorry in person.

"I'm still waiting for him to say it to me," Frazier was quoted as saying. "He's hiding. Is he still afraid?"

“

Ali and Frazier fought 41 savage rounds, giving every fiber of their beings, every ounce of energy. Now, 30 years later, the promoters would like you to believe Friday night will determine who has the stronger genes. ”

Ali's quoted response: "I'll kick his (butt). I was trying to be nice to him. I tried to make it right. If you see Joe Frazier, you tell him he's still a gorilla."

Ali and Frazier fought 41 savage rounds, giving every fiber of their beings, every ounce of energy. Now, 30 years later, the promoters would like you to believe Friday night will determine who has the stronger genes.

Neither father is expected to show up, although Frazier is a possibility. Ali, who is supportive -- yet not too fond -- of his daughter's endeavors, has gotten out of the event by citing a prior engagement.

Boxing purists cringe at the Ali-Frazier IV theme because of its blatant attempt to extract validation from some of the sport's most significant moments. Laila Ali wasn't even born when the "Thrilla in Manila" took place.

But don't recoil in horror at the circus mentality. It's the same game the men play. A few examples would include Mike Tyson vs. Andrew Golota, Butterbean Esch vs. Peter McNeeley and (recently proposed) Roberto Duran vs. Hector Camacho.

One of my favorite episodes of "The Simpsons" told of an intriguing fight staged in international waters between Tyson and Secretariat. Ali-Frazier IV is one step above that.

"You can use the word gimmick. There's nothing wrong with that," McClain said. "Like anything in life, there needs to be a gimmick. A gimmick is nothing more than a marketing tool. It's a way to get your point across to the public to make people interested in what you're doing. Singers have gimmicks with dancers and wearing different clothes, and magicians do that." Sadly, this bout between two inexperienced and untested ladies will go down in women's boxing history as the sport's biggest fight to date. And we may never see Christy Martin square off with Lucia Rijker, a legitimate bout that could be explosively dramatic even by men's standards.

Ali is 9-0 with 8 KOs. Frazier-Lyde is 7-0 with 7 KOs. As respectable as those records appear on the surface, a look at the opposition tells a more complete story.

The combined record of Ali's first six opponents was 2-4. In her seventh bout she fought Marjorie Jones, a 48-year-old grandmother and ex-prostitute, who, days after earning $800 against Ali, checked herself into a drug rehab center.

Frazier-Lyde's foes are a combined 1-11-1 with the lone common opponent being Nicolyn Armstrong. Frazier-Lyde knocked her out in the first round last November, about a year after Ali stopped her in the second round.

While the 23-year-old Ali took up boxing in 1999, Frazier-Lyde has been fighting for a little more than a year. Frazier-Lyde is 39, two years older than her father was when he retired because he felt his days were through.

Frazier-Lyde began fighting after a reporter asked what she thought of Laila Ali. Frazier-Lyde claimed she could "kick her butt," and then decided she better start training in case anybody asked her to prove it. She never stop challenging Ali until the match was made.

Frazier-Lyde, a practicing lawyer and mother of three, lost 43 pounds to reach Ali's fighting weight of about 166.

"I'm ready to go on and get this over with," Ali said during Wednesday's press conference at Turning Stone. "I'm looking forward to fighting. I can't wait. It's been a while since she started running her mouth. The time is finally here."

The ladies' styles are similar to their fathers. Ali is more of a boxer, willing to stick and move and wear down her opponent. Frazier-Lyde prefers to bore in and go for the quick knockout.

The ladies also know how to trash talk, and they displayed their verbal talents at Wednesday's press conference. Not surprisingly, Ali is better at yapping than Frazier-Lyde is.

"I'm just hoping, when I start busting her upside her head, that she has another play," Ali said. "She don't realize how strong I am. She obviously don't know what a hard, stiff, fast punch feels like, with the power and the skill and when I turn it over and my knuckles crack upside her head. It's whole different feeling."

In typical Ali fashion, Laila promised a knockout.

"I'm going to knock her out," Ali said. "I'm going to punish her and beat her up and then knock her out. I'm hoping the fight will at least go six rounds. People around me don't think it's going to last that long."

Frazier-Lyde was more gracious Wednesday, opting to flash her brilliant smile and playfully flex her muscles while Ali spoke. But if Frazier was as quick-witted as his daughter, maybe Muhammad Ali's barbs would have been laughed off rather than become consuming.

"I support Laila Ali even though she doesn't accept my sisterly competitive challenge in the spirit of which I have given," Frazier-Lyde said. "I will defeat her in good sportsmanship, and women will rise."

Deep in my mind I know I'm not supposed to be interested in such a carnivalesque event. I've been through this before with Mike Tyson and Naseem Hamed and Hector Camacho and Mia St. John and all the other freak show performers.

A disappointing end is highly likely, even though I'll gawk from ringside, hoping for something good to occur.

At least the cotton candy smells good.

ESPN.com boxing writer Tim Graham covers boxing for The Buffalo News and The Ring Magazine, and formerly wrote for the Las Vegas Sun.