Читать книгу Sporting Blood. Tales from the Dark Side of Boxing онлайн
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This act of compassion was captured in a photograph that was distributed worldwide by the Associated Press. In stark black and white, it reveals two warring selves, now achieving another kind of glory, an acknowledgment of human frailty and the bonds between us all, a haunting memento mori.
Right on for the Darkness
ON AARON PRYOR, 1955–2016
“One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
—Friedrich Nietzsche
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From the beginning, Aaron Pryor, who died on October 9, 2016, was at odds with the world. Or, perhaps, the world was at odds with him. One of the most exciting fighters during an era when action was a prerequisite for fame, Pryor matched his unbridled style in the ring with an apocalyptic personal life that kept him in boldface for over a decade.
Pryor was an at-risk youth before the term came into vogue. Dysfunction was in his DNA. He was born—out of wedlock—in 1955 in Cincinnati to an alcoholic mother whose moodiness could lead to impromptu gunplay. Sarah Pryor, née Shellery, who gave birth to seven children by five different fathers, occasionally whipped out the nickel-plated hardware when some of her brood became unruly. Years later, she wound up shooting her husband five times in the kind of supercharged domestic dispute in which the Pryor clan excelled.