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Pryor rallied in 1984, against limited Nicky Furlano in Toronto, where he labored to a fifteen-round decision and revealed in the process a fighter—a man—who was beginning to fray. A year later, in 1985, Pryor struggled to a narrow points win over Gary Hinton in Atlantic City and disappeared, undefeated, into a permanent midnight.

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“I ain't The Hawk now. The Hawk is dead. I'm a ghost.”

—Aaron Pryor, 1985

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The mid-1980s, neon and glitz for some, were some of the bleakest years for Pryor. He was divorced for a second time. In October 1986, he was arrested for assaulting his mother. In 1987 he was shot in the wrist and held hostage by a pair of baseheads and his mother tried to have him committed. In 1989, he was arrested for possession of drug paraphernalia. There were more lawsuits and canceled fights than can be remembered. He went through trainers, managers, and promoters the way a hanging judge went through outlaws in the West.

Finally, after the lost years passed him in a blur, Pryor was sentenced to six months in prison for drug possession. For more than one court appearance, Pryor, who appeared indefatigable in the ring, overslept and arrived late. Recalled Pryor: “I immediately became a night person. There's no such thing as a crackhead being a ‘day person.’ The crackhead is up all night and sleeps all day. I also became very undependable. Whenever anyone asks a crackhead to do something, they'd better not hold their breath waiting for it to happen. The person using the crack only thinks of themselves, how something will benefit them, and the next time they are going to get high. They're not thinking about picking up the kids from school, meeting the in-laws for dinner, or having a family get-together on Sunday. It's all about getting high.”