Читать книгу Sporting Blood. Tales from the Dark Side of Boxing онлайн

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His umpteenth comeback, in 1990, was a travesty. A fly-by-night promoter named Diana Lewis decided that Pryor would be enough of a sideshow attraction to make the harsh phrase “blood money” a remunerative reality. Nearly blind in one eye, Pryor was granted a license to fight in Wisconsin, whose Department of Licensing and Regulation ruled that denying the tattered Hawk the right to fight was tantamount to discrimination. Pryor stopped Daryl Jones, his pal of many years, in three farcical rounds and returned to the streets.

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“I got so depressed, I contemplated suicide. Plenty of times. Not because the money was gone or even that I had wrecked my life. I wanted to die because I couldn't find a way to live. I didn't know how to start a new life.”

—Aaron Pryor

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“All of it had to do with drugs. With crack. He has been assaulted—mentally, physically, sexually. He's been beaten, not just with fists, but with guns, sticks, bats. Some of these leeches have taunted him to shadowbox for them. They have mocked him, humiliated him, threatened him. All for what? A little rock of cocaine? For that trash, they've made him beg. Made him do unimaginable . . .”