Читать книгу Killed in Brazil?. The Mysterious Death of Arturo "Thunder" Gatti онлайн

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For Duva, there was something a bit peculiar about the Rodrigues family too. She remembers being struck by how happy they were, exhibiting a strange amount of joy at the new relationship. Gatti was smitten, enamored with a girl he was convinced liked him for who he was—not for his fame, not for his money, but for his charming and fun self. Was Gatti right? Had he found in Amanda—who was slack-jawed when she found out he earned his living in the cruelest sport—someone drawn to the man he was away from the spotlight, the crowds, the fast life? Or was Gatti succumbing to a willful naivete? It isn't hard to understand why he might want someone who desired a quieter, less destructive version of himself. Mario Costa, who owns the Ringside Lounge, a bar next door to the gym a nineteen-year-old Gatti joined when he moved to Jersey City, said the fighter “lived in go-go bars.” Costa saw Gatti's life as one desperately lacking structure.

If it was structure, peace, even a sort of amorous innocence Gatti was looking for, however, there is little evidence that he found it with Amanda. “He had terrible taste in women,” recalls Duva. “And the one woman who really cared about him [Erika Rivera, his ex-fiancée and mother of his first child, Sofia], she really couldn't take it.” There is a nod here to Gatti's wild side, of its prohibitive force, and perhaps in that an explanation for his poor taste in women. It may be difficult to find a girl to settle down with when you never settle down yourself. Still, women troubles aside, Gatti “was really good at picking his friends,” said Duva, a tinge of regret softening her voice, “I just wish he would have taken his friends’ advice.”