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The Flight of the Hawk : The Aaron Pryor Story by Aaron Pryor
Book by Pryor, Aaron, Terrell, Marshall
Paperback
First published June 1, 1996
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
May 18, 2018
I'm biased in favor of Aaron Pryor, inasmuch as he's from my hometown of Cincinnati and he lived and fought in neighborhoods and venues whose smells and sounds I know firsthand. That said, this straightforward autobiography (co-written with Marshall Terrill) was nigh-on impossible to put down, for reason that have nothing to do with hometown pride. In fact, I intended to read the book in a week or so, and found myself so consumed by the highs and lows of Pryor's story (the "highs" are sometimes literal) that pages flew and hours passed without me being aware of the time.
The Hawk's journey starts and ends in the ghettos of Cincinnati (which, block-for-block had at one time the most dangerous ghettos in the country). Aaron Pryor comes into the world without father and with a houseful of impoverished siblings and a hard-drinking, gun-toting mother. He gets molested by a local preacher, his brother goes to prison and emerges from jail the first time via breakout (the first successful escape in the history of Hamilton County Corrections) and then later as a transvestite prostitute.
Young Aaron Pryor channels all of his fear, frustration, and rage in the ring at a local neighborhood gym, and discovers he has a fearsome talent as a boxer-puncher, more specifically as a volume puncher whose relentless two-handed attacks and powerful swings took him from obscurity to the Hall of Fame in Canastota, New York. To say that his ride was rough between these two distant places in time would be an understatement. He was shot, first by his wife who cheated on him with another woman, and then later he was shot by a drug-dealer for a delinquent payment on some crack. Aaron Pryor's crack habit was so bad at this point that, still bleeding and with the gun hole still smoking, he looked up at his attacker and begged him to give him one more hit before he left him there in his mansion, presumably to die.
About that drug addiction: Aaron Pryor may have been a junior-welterweight (arguably the greatest of all-time) but his crack habit was heavyweight in scope. His terrifying descent into self-destruction and madness that ends with him stumbling through the ghettos of Liberty City, Miami makes Jake Lamotta's trials and tribulations seem tame by comparison. And that's saying something.
Lastly, the book serves as a good corrective on Aaron Pryor's relationship with his once-estranged manager, the king of our local pizzerias here in the Nasty 'Nati, businessman Buddy La Rosa. I'd heard that La Rosa was a Svengali of sorts, siphoning as much as fifty percent from Aaron Pryor's purses, which is way above the industry standard. By the end of the book, not only was this rumor confirmed by both fighter and manager, but I came to understand how the arrangement was anything but exploitative, and Mr. La Rosa saved Aaron's life and earned that fifty percent and then some.
Former world titlist and perennial title challenger Adrien Broner hails from Cincinnati, and in a pre-fight interview recently he spoke of the "Curse of my city," how for whatever reason the Queen City does its athletic heroes dirty by ignoring their accomplishments and broadcasting their failures. It's certainly hard to argue against Cincinnati's neglect of one of its greatest sons, Aaron Pryor. This book (along with an archive of great fights) serves as an able corrective to that injustice.
R.I.P. to the Champ.
The Hawk's journey starts and ends in the ghettos of Cincinnati (which, block-for-block had at one time the most dangerous ghettos in the country). Aaron Pryor comes into the world without father and with a houseful of impoverished siblings and a hard-drinking, gun-toting mother. He gets molested by a local preacher, his brother goes to prison and emerges from jail the first time via breakout (the first successful escape in the history of Hamilton County Corrections) and then later as a transvestite prostitute.
Young Aaron Pryor channels all of his fear, frustration, and rage in the ring at a local neighborhood gym, and discovers he has a fearsome talent as a boxer-puncher, more specifically as a volume puncher whose relentless two-handed attacks and powerful swings took him from obscurity to the Hall of Fame in Canastota, New York. To say that his ride was rough between these two distant places in time would be an understatement. He was shot, first by his wife who cheated on him with another woman, and then later he was shot by a drug-dealer for a delinquent payment on some crack. Aaron Pryor's crack habit was so bad at this point that, still bleeding and with the gun hole still smoking, he looked up at his attacker and begged him to give him one more hit before he left him there in his mansion, presumably to die.
About that drug addiction: Aaron Pryor may have been a junior-welterweight (arguably the greatest of all-time) but his crack habit was heavyweight in scope. His terrifying descent into self-destruction and madness that ends with him stumbling through the ghettos of Liberty City, Miami makes Jake Lamotta's trials and tribulations seem tame by comparison. And that's saying something.
Lastly, the book serves as a good corrective on Aaron Pryor's relationship with his once-estranged manager, the king of our local pizzerias here in the Nasty 'Nati, businessman Buddy La Rosa. I'd heard that La Rosa was a Svengali of sorts, siphoning as much as fifty percent from Aaron Pryor's purses, which is way above the industry standard. By the end of the book, not only was this rumor confirmed by both fighter and manager, but I came to understand how the arrangement was anything but exploitative, and Mr. La Rosa saved Aaron's life and earned that fifty percent and then some.
Former world titlist and perennial title challenger Adrien Broner hails from Cincinnati, and in a pre-fight interview recently he spoke of the "Curse of my city," how for whatever reason the Queen City does its athletic heroes dirty by ignoring their accomplishments and broadcasting their failures. It's certainly hard to argue against Cincinnati's neglect of one of its greatest sons, Aaron Pryor. This book (along with an archive of great fights) serves as an able corrective to that injustice.
R.I.P. to the Champ.
April 10, 2012
Excellent biography though written in a very casual style - mostly as first person recollections from Pryor and a few close friends. Pryor goes through his extremely rough upbringing, to his meteoric career as a fighter and then through the years of cocaine addiction that brought his brilliant career to an end and eventual redemption through Christ. Amazing story, even if it left out a lot of details - which googling him can help fill in. Very quick read - though the writing is not the most stylistic - the story is compelling. Recommend.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews