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Originally posted by Thread Stealer
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Pryor can probably beat just about anyone at 140 lbs but I don't see him having much success above that weight as a welter. He could take a punch as well as anybody but he took a lot of them too.
I doubt he would walk through Hearns' right hand and with his (lack of) defense he wouldn't be able to avoid it either.
What every boy should be taught before he first laces on a pair of boxing gloves is that a championship isn't an automatic pass to love and respect. They'll gird you with a championship belt, but if a boxer is to gain a greater esteem, he must earn it outside the ring. That has been a lesson harshly learned by Aaron Pryor, the WBA junior welterweight champion.
That he is the most exciting fighter in the world is without question. He hammers away at opponents in frenetic three-minute bursts until nothing upright remains to be hammered. As an amateur, the Hawk, as the 27-year-old Pryor is called, won all but 16 of 220 fights. Fifty of those never got past the first round. As a pro he is 31-0, with 29 knockouts, the last 23 in succession.
Pryor's life-style outside the ring is, unfortunately, as confusing and destructive as his tactics within it. Pryor hungers for love and respect, but he trusts no one, so he goes unnourished. And in his zigzagging wake is the debris of people he easily embraced, and just as easily abandoned. His first wife divorced him, his second shot him. He recently lost a paternity suit and gained a son. He changes lawyers and promoters the way Liberace changes clothes. In his entourage seniority can be gained in a few weeks, and lost in a wink. He recently tried to fire his manager, Buddy LaRosa, for the fourth—or maybe it was the 40th—time.
That he is the most exciting fighter in the world is without question. He hammers away at opponents in frenetic three-minute bursts until nothing upright remains to be hammered. As an amateur, the Hawk, as the 27-year-old Pryor is called, won all but 16 of 220 fights. Fifty of those never got past the first round. As a pro he is 31-0, with 29 knockouts, the last 23 in succession.
Pryor's life-style outside the ring is, unfortunately, as confusing and destructive as his tactics within it. Pryor hungers for love and respect, but he trusts no one, so he goes unnourished. And in his zigzagging wake is the debris of people he easily embraced, and just as easily abandoned. His first wife divorced him, his second shot him. He recently lost a paternity suit and gained a son. He changes lawyers and promoters the way Liberace changes clothes. In his entourage seniority can be gained in a few weeks, and lost in a wink. He recently tried to fire his manager, Buddy LaRosa, for the fourth—or maybe it was the 40th—time.
"I had nothing but good dealings with Aaron," says Elkus. "Unfortunately, he's his own worst enemy. He isn't a bad kid, and he's a kid even though he's 27. I don't think Cincinnatians look at him as a professional athlete. I think they look at him as a kid from the ****** who had the gall to say, 'I'm going to turn down a $500,000 offer to fight Ray Leonard.' Now they like to hear that Aaron had a paternity suit, that his attorney sued him, that he fired his business manager, that he doesn't want Buddy LaRosa in his corner anymore. But all that doesn't mean anything. The guy can fight. Aaron has his minuses, but he has a lot of pluses you never hear about."
By the time they worked out a new agreement, the chance to fight Duran—and the $750,000 payday—was gone. The new contract covered six years; LaRosa's share was cut to one-third and he no longer had any ancillary rights. Expenses were to come off the top.
"The ink wasn't even dry on the damn contract," says LaRosa, "when I found out Aaron had signed a one-year promotional contract with Don King, who was going to give him a $100,000 bonus. Then King sent me the contract to sign. I told Aaron it was a mistake, but if that was what he wanted, then I'd sign.
"Aaron said, 'But King is going to get me a Duran fight, a Mamby fight, because he's got Duran and Mamby.'
" 'Aaron,' I said, 'we had a Duran fight, but you didn't want it.' "
"The ink wasn't even dry on the damn contract," says LaRosa, "when I found out Aaron had signed a one-year promotional contract with Don King, who was going to give him a $100,000 bonus. Then King sent me the contract to sign. I told Aaron it was a mistake, but if that was what he wanted, then I'd sign.
"Aaron said, 'But King is going to get me a Duran fight, a Mamby fight, because he's got Duran and Mamby.'
" 'Aaron,' I said, 'we had a Duran fight, but you didn't want it.' "
This article is a very good read for everybody. It exposes a lot of myths about Pryor that are often heard today.
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