The 1929 Bronze sculpture (Der Boxer) of Max Schmeling by artist Rudolf Belling. The sculpture is housed at the Hamburger Kunsthalle museum in Hamburg, Germany.
Ok, I guess it's time to wrap it up with the Max Schmeling photos, I got a bit carried away but I can't help it, he's one of my favorites. This is my all-time favorite photo of Max Schmeling, it's just a bada$$ image, standing on the grass, in a wicked pose, with the plants and the house. Love this shot.
"My game plan was mayhem. I just always went balls-to-the-wall in the gym. Even if you’re suffering from all kind of problems, you’ve just got to power through it. That was my philosophy on life. Life’s a fight."
A photo of Muhammad before his press conference at the United Nations Headquarters. At the conference, he announced that he would donate his circuit television earnings to UNICEF and Africare to aid countries affected by the Sahel drought.
This is an intense photo. Rocky Graziano joins Freddie "Red" Cochrane’s handlers and referee, Johnny Burns, in helping the limp and defeated challenger back to his corner. Cochrane was knocked out in 10th round of this fight on June 29, 1945 at the Madison Square Garden. Cochrane was knocked down for seven nine counts before he took a full count in the 10th.
The face of "The Onion Farmer" Carmen Basilio. The man ate rocks for breakfast and washed them down with rattlesnake venom. One of the hardest men to ever live.
So I was looking at the news the other day and saw that a meteor entered Earth's atmosphere and exploded over an area in Cleveland, Ohio. Scary stuff, I couldn't help but immediately think about the famous Tunguska meteor event that happened in 1908. The Tunguska meteor, which exploded over Siberia in 1908, is estimated to have been a rocky asteroid or comet fragment between 40 and 200 meters (roughly 130 to 650 feet) in diameter. The object exploded 5–10 km above the ground, releasing energy equal to 10–15 megatons of TNT—1,000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb. The 1908 Tunguska explosion in Siberia was so powerful that it flattened approximately 80 million trees across 830 square miles (2,150 square kilometers) due to a massive atmospheric air burst. The blast, which occurred without leaving a crater, destroyed trees in a radial pattern, leaving standing trees near the epicenter stripped of branches, creating a distinctive "telegraph pole" appearance. Thank goodness it exploded in an isolated area like Siberia, if the Tunguska meteor had exploded over a city, the results would have been catastrophic. The area in Siberia is so isolated, difficult to get to, and remote that an expedition to the sight didn't take place until 1927 led by Leonid Kulik. Once the expedition reached the sight of the event, what they found shook them to the core, flattened and uprooted trees for as far as the eye could see. These are the photos they took.
It's honestly frightening to think that an asteroid fragment could sneak into Earth's atmosphere and explode over a city. If a fragment the size of the Tunguska event snuck in and exploded over a population, god help us.
This is an artist's rendition of how the Tunguska event might have looked if you were flying by the area on an airliner and looking out the window at the time of the event.
Just look at the area the Tunguska explosion covered, if it would have occured over New York City or Washington DC, those cities would have been leveled.
This is a photo of Leonid Kulik, the leader of the 1927 expedition to investigate the Tunguska event. The landscape in the area of the event, the Siberian taiga, is very inaccessible and unforgiving. Kulik attempted to reach the area in 1921, but the harsh, swampy terrain prevented him from reaching the site until 1927.
"When [James Toney] is mad, he'll put his fist through a glass window, throw a chair, knock over a table. There's a valve in James. Sometimes I can see the mercury start to rise, and I know a tantrum is coming. You usually do get a warning. If you don't get out of his way, its your stupidity. His mood is like a wave. You have to ride with it. If you try to fight it, you'll get wiped out."
When he stepped into the ring, it wasn’t with the polished composure of a technician or the slow, thudding certainty of a heavyweight brawler. No, Pryor came like a storm that didn’t announce itself—wild, electric, unrelenting. He didn’t wait for an invitation to take control. He seized it. From the opening bell, he swarmed like a man who knew how short life could be and wasn’t about to waste a second of it.
Thirty-nine victories. Thirty-five knockouts. One loss.
But those numbers, as gaudy as they are, barely scratch the surface. They don’t capture the chaos he could create in a single round, or the way opponents—many of them brilliant in their own right—looked completely overwhelmed, as if they'd been dropped into a whirlwind they couldn't escape.
They called him “The Hawk,” but if you watched him fight, he felt more like a swarm of hornets—buzzing forward, throwing punches in flurries that didn’t seem governed by logic or rhythm, just raw instinct and fury. His conditioning was legendary. His will, exhausting. Most fighters had a gear they climbed into when things got tough. Pryor started in that gear and stayed there. And then some.
Look at his most famous nights—those unforgettable wars with Alexis Argüello. Especially that first one in 1982.
Argüello, the master technician, came in looking to make history by winning a title in a fourth weight class. He had class. He had a jab like a blueprint. But against Pryor, it all crumbled.
Round after round, Pryor came forward, relentless. His eyes—sharp, wild—never stopped scanning, calculating. His fists never stopped moving. Even when Argüello landed clean, Pryor didn’t flinch. He smiled. He charged.
Then came that 14th round. Argüello had given everything. He was fading. And Pryor—dear God—Pryor surged like a man possessed. The final barrage was merciless. Beautiful in its brutality. By the time it ended, Argüello slumped in the corner, not beaten by a better boxer—beaten by a man who simply refused to lose.
That’s what defined Aaron Pryor. Not just his power. Not just the win column. But the refusal to quit. The raw, unapologetic will to keep coming forward, to keep punching, to keep pushing beyond whatever seemed humanly possible.
Sure, he stumbled outside the ring. Fame is cruel like that. Drugs came. Scandals followed. He lost time. He lost some of himself.
But inside those ropes, for those years he was at his peak, there was no one quite like him.
And maybe that’s why the legend of Aaron Pryor still echoes—because he wasn’t just trying to win fights. He was fighting like he was chasing something bigger. Respect. Legacy. Redemption. All of it. Every round. Every punch.
He didn’t just leave the ring victorious. He left it empty—like he’d poured every last ounce of himself into it.
Man. Wow. Whoever wrote that post about Aaron Pryor, hats off. I almost had an orgasm reading it. Aaron Pryor was a two-time light welterweight champion, he retired with a record of 39-1 (35 KO), but anyone who follows boxing knows that Aaron Pryor never really lost, the one loss on his record was to Bobby Joe Young and that wasn't the real Aaron Pryor in the ring that night. The real Aaron Pryor was never beaten as a professional. That post was spot on about Pryor, he was known for an incredibly relentless, high-volume swarmer style, boasting 35 knockouts in 39 wins. His style featured blistering speed, constant pressure from the opening bell, unpredictable feints, and an exceptional ability to throw upwards of 100+ punches per round, he could hit you from insane angles and he was an absolutely fearless and ruthless fighter. It's impossible not to love "The Hawk" if you're a true boxing fan.
Credit: International Boxing Hall of Fame (IBHOF)
Aaron (The Hawk) Pryor
CONSIDERED AMONG the greatest junior welterweight champions of all-time, Aaron Pryor secured his place in boxing history with a pair of knockout victories over fellow Hall of Famer Alexis Arguello.
Pryor earned the nickname "The Hawk" for the ferocious manner in which he devastated his opponents. In his 25th fight he challenged Antonio Cervantes for the WBA junior welterweight title. He rose from the canvas in the first round to stop Cervantes in the fourth round and captured the world title. He made five title defenses -- each a knockout -- before meeting Arguello.
The first Pryor-Arguello fight was held at the Orange Bowl in Miami and was so fierce and dramatic that it was named "Fight of the Year."
Drug addiction cut Pryor's brilliant career short. He later tried to make several comeback attempts but eye injuries forced him into permanent retirement.
THE 100 GREATEST BOXERS OF ALL-TIME #89: AARON PRYOR
By: Kenneth Bridgham
“THE HAWK”
39 WINS (35 BY KO), 1 LOSS
World Junior Welterweight Champion 1980–1985
Boxing Writers Association of America Fighter of the Year 1982
International Boxing Hall of Fame Inductee 1996
Sugar Ray Leonard was the most successful and most popular non-heavyweight boxing star of the 1970s and 1980s. Part of that success came from his willingness to engage in mega-fights with the biggest fighters of his day. There was only one man Leonard was seriously accused of ducking during his prime, and that was Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor, the fast and aggressive junior welterweight titlist. Denied a spot on the all-star American boxing team at the 1976 Montreal Olympics after losing in the trials to Howard Davis (who went on to win the gold), Pryor earned just $400 for his pro debut. Leonard made $40,444 for his. But Pryor would ultimately earn his own place as one of the elite fighters of their generation.
At his best, Aaron Pryor drew constant comparisons with the legendary Henry Armstrong because of the ferocity of his attack, his capacity for throwing punches from every angle, his iron chin, and his combination of speed and power. After turning pro in November 1976, he went undefeated in 24 fights (22 won by knockout) before challenging veteran Hall of Famer Antonio “Kid Pambele” Cervantes for the WBA (and lineal) world junior welterweight (140 lbs.) championship on August 7, 1980, in Pryor’s hometown of Cincinnati. Rising from an early knockdown, he battered Cervantes to a fourth-round stoppage to pick up the title.
In all, Pryor would defend the WBA title eight times in just under four years. All those defenses were won by knockout or stoppage, including his classic November 12, 1982 war with Hall of Famer Alexis Arguello of Nicaragua at Miami’s Orange Bowl. It was a punishing battle that many still consider the best junior middleweight title fight in history. Arguello, attempting to be the first man to win major belts in four weight classes, was a poised boxer with dangerous power in his right hand, but Pryor was the aggressor from the opening bell. He set the record for most punches thrown in an opening round, 130, and walked through brutal return fire through the rest of the match to fire off combinations on the inside. By the end of the thirteenth round, Pryor was leading on two out of three judges’ scorecards, but momentum was beginning to turn Arguello’s way. Then, in the fourteenth, Pryor rocketed out of his corner with surprisingly renewed energy and mounted a merciless assault of 23 unanswered punches that left Arguello helpless on the ropes. The referee stopped the fight. The Nicaraguan did not make it back onto his feet for another four minutes.
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It was the most momentous victory of Pryor’s stellar career, but controversy plagued him inside and outside of the ring. Tapes of the television broadcast of the Arguello fight revealed that Aaron had been given a “mixed” bottle of fluids by trainer Panama Lewis in his corner before making his fourteenth-round resurgence, prompting allegations of drug use. An investigation ensued, though no official findings or charges resulted.
Pryor was indeed spiraling into drug addiction. As his private life turned to chaos, he was twice shot, once by a girlfriend and another time by drug dealers. He subsidized a huge entourage of friends and hangers-on who depleted his ring earnings. Managerial and legal disputes also got in the way of proposed bouts with Saoul Mamby and Roberto Duran. Worse yet, he had suffered a detached retina in his right eye and was keeping it a secret.
Through all the chaos and injury, Pryor continued to win. He beat Arguello a second time, knocking him out in ten rounds in 1983. Later that year, he announced his retirement with a record of 33–0 (31 wins by KO).
Problems with money, ego, and drugs prompted two comebacks over the coming years, resulting in the lone loss of his career to Bobby Joe Young in 1987, but by then Pryor’s outrageous lifestyle had ruined the prime of one of the outstanding boxing stars of the 1980s.
Aaron Pryors Record vs. Hall of Famers & Lineal World Champions:
Aaron Pryor vs Antonio "Kid Pambele" Cervantes in 1980. Aaron Pryor becomes a world champion. Gosh, Antonio Cervantes was dangerous as hell, that guy could bang. Aaron Pryor himself said that Cervantes was hardest puncher he ever faced. Pryor generally fought only one way: coming forward and throwing a lot of punches. He had better defense than many expected, but his style meant he sometimes ate big shots while wading in, which Cervantes capitalized on at the end of round 1 by sending Pryor down. When Pryor got up, he memorably wound his arm around threateningly before landing the first punch when action resumed. Pryor would then ramp up his pressure until finally cornering Cervantes in round 4 and unleashing a combination that put the champion down for the count.
The Fight City
Aug. 2, 1980: Pryor vs Cervantes
By: Michael Carbert
The Montreal Olympics in 1976 was a galvanizing moment for boxing in America, an event that saw the sport gain new stars and new fans, as the U.S. amateur team became one of the biggest stories of the games. Michael Spinks, Leo Randolph, Howard Davis Jr., Leon Spinks and Ray Leonard all won gold medals and soon after signed lucrative contracts to turn pro. Within a few short years Randolph, Leonard and Leon Spinks had won world titles, while Davis and Michael Spinks ranked as top contenders in their respective divisions.
But right behind all those new stars and feel-good stories were the boxers who had just missed having a chance to hear the cheers at the Olympics. Aaron Pryor had wanted to be on that podium in Montreal as much as any other young pugilist, but he dropped a close decision to Davis in the Olympic Trials. His record of over two hundred amateur wins, his reputation, and his performance against Davis, had earned him a spot as an alternate on the team, but after the closing ceremonies everyone knew who Howard Davis Jr. was; few had heard of Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor.
A young Aaron Pryor: no one wanted to fight him, all feared “The Hawk.”
Pryor immediately turned pro and went about laying waste to the lightweight division, setting a breakneck pace to compliment his swarming, all-action style. In less than three years he had racked up nineteen straight wins, all but two by knockout. He was still “Aaron Who?” outside of his native Cincinnati, but the top contenders in the lightweight division were definitely aware of both his presence and his penchant for overwhelming opponents with his fearsome attack.
Which led to a new problem for Pryor: no one wanted to fight him. His activity rate plummeted and so did his bank account. Scrambling for both matches and income, Pryor resorted to working as a sparring partner for none other than Howard Davis Jr., but he lost that job when he decked the gold medalist during a training session.
Meanwhile, boxers Pryor had beaten in the amateurs were getting big money deals and national television exposure. He had defeated Thomas Hearns but now “The Hit Man” was an emerging star, his bouts broadcast regularly on national television. Pryor had defeated Hilmer Kenty in the amateurs no fewer than thirteen times, seven of the wins by stoppage, yet it was Kenty, not Pryor, who got the shot at WBA lightweight champ Ernesto Espana. Matchmaker Gil Clancy even offered Espana an extra fifty grand to fight Pryor instead of Kenty, but such was the reputation of “The Hawk” that the Venezuelan turned him down. Instead he took on Kenty and lost by ninth round stoppage in a one-sided brawl.
The legendary Kid Pambele.
“I never dreamed Kenty would get a title shot before me,” moaned Pryor to the press. He was now taking every opportunity to voice his frustrations to the media, repeatedly calling out the top contenders and champions in the lightweight division. “What do I gotta do,” he asked, “to get a fight at Madison Square Garden or on television?”
Then someone had a bright idea: if Pryor couldn’t land a major bout at 135, why not move up to 140?
Colombia’s Antonio Cervantes was something of a mysterious figure to U.S. boxing fans. Despite the fact he had been a world champion for most of the preceding eight years, had dominated the super-lightweight division, and was a living legend in his native Columbia, his face and name were little known, most of his fights taking place in Venezuela and Panama. Another mystery was his age. He insisted he was 34, but he looked older; it was whispered he was past forty. And while he had won thirteen straight since losing to the gifted Wilfred Benitez back in 1976, he was a decided underdog going into his title defense against Pryor.
Cervantes had rebounded from a defeat in 1976 to a 17-year-old Wilfred Benitez.
But the real mystery was why he was in Cincinnati in the first place, why he had agreed to do what so many would not: take on Aaron Pryor, in his hometown, no less. But whatever back room deals may have been involved, Pryor finally had a title shot and an appearance on national television. “The Hawk” made the most of it.
As the fighters awaited the opening bell in the ring they presented a study in contrasts. The 24-year-old Pryor couldn’t stand still. Keyed up and ready to fight, he danced about the ring, shadow boxing and flexing his muscles and glaring at Cervantes. Meanwhile the champion sat slumped on his stool like a tired shift worker patiently waiting for the next bus home. A veteran of over a hundred bouts, this was just another day at the office for “Kid Pambele,” his facial expression and body language that of someone ready for a nap, not a world championship fight. Or maybe it was that of a ring-worn veteran, ripe for the taking by a younger, hungrier fighter.
Pryor vs Cervantes
Broadcast live on CBS, Pryor vs Cervantes followed the timeless script of the proud, old king versus the young upstart in search of glory. At the bell, “The Hawk” tore after the champion, chasing him about the ring and unleashing a non-stop barrage of leather. Cervantes appeared briefly perplexed by the challenger’s aggression and the absence of any “feeling out” process but soon enough began to find openings for counter shots. Displaying admirable grace under pressure, he connected with counter left hooks as Pryor, a veritable buzzsaw, kept charging in, though the challenger landed few effective blows. Setting a whirlwind pace, he forced Cervantes into the ropes again and again but then, with seconds left in the round, a short counter hook and a right hand connected and Pryor’s knee briefly touched the canvas. Round one to the champion.
Pryor’s attack was ferocious and unceasing.
The torrid pace continued in the second in what was clearly a contest between youthful exuberance and veteran ring-smarts. Cervantes repeatedly got home with clean punches as Pryor’s brazen attack left him wide open for counters, but it was the champion who appeared hurt near the end of the round, as Pryor landed two hard rights. Returning to his corner at the bell, Cervantes could be seen gulping air, the pace already affecting his stamina.
With his cornermen urging Pryor to “Go get that old man!” the challenger started the third with two more powerful rights as he sought to take full control. Seconds later a series of right hands put Cervantes on the run and opened a deep gash over his right eye, and while the champion continued to score with solid counters, the punches had no effect on the constantly charging Pryor. The sight of his quarry’s blood drove the challenger to attack with even more intensity, his unceasing assault driving a bewildered Cervantes from one side of the ring to the other. His legs already unsteady, the Colombian clinched and held to survive the round.
Cervantes down for the count in round four.
To his credit, Cervantes never gave up. Hurt, tired and bleeding, he continued to fight back as Pryor went for the kill in the fourth, but his counter punches, while they kept landing, were like pebbles thrown at a runaway train. Soon enough he found himself trapped again in his own corner as Pryor unloaded another barrage of right hands. The champion, overwhelmed, tried to clinch but “The Hawk” shrugged him off and kept firing until a crushing overhand right landed flush on Cervantes’ chin and dropped him. The old king gallantly tried to rise but could not. The long championship run of “Kid Pambele” had come to a sudden and violent end.
Champion at last.
The crowd at the Riverfront Coliseum rejoiced, Cincinnati celebrating its first world champion since the days of Wallace “Bud” Smith and Ezzard Charles. Finally, it was no longer “Aaron Who?” but Aaron the champion, the fighter everyone feared. The new champ would go on to become a major attraction, his title defenses broadcast on national television as he demolished one contender after another with his wild, incessant, tornado fighting style, blasting his way towards a big money showdown with triple-crown champion Alexis Arguello and fistic immortality.
Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello I, one of the greatest fights in boxing history.
The Fight City
Nov. 12, 1982: Pryor vs Arguello I
By: Michael Carbert
It’s the fall of 1982 and the sport of boxing is bigger than ever. Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hearns are all mainstream stars and fight fans enjoy championship matches on free cable TV almost every weekend. Rocky III is a huge hit at the box office, and just a few months before one of the richest fights of all-time had taken place, Larry Holmes vs Gerry Cooney. And standing right in the thick of things, not yet a boxing superstar but certainly one of the higher profile champions: Alexis Arguello.
A regular on network television, the Nicaraguan is regarded as not only one of the best boxers on the planet, but an all-time great, only the seventh fighter in pugilism’s long history to win three divisional world titles. And that’s what the big battle in Miami’s Orange Bowl was all about: to see if Arguello could emerge as a true immortal, a sports superstar, by becoming the first boxer ever to win world titles in four different weight classes.
The man Arguello had to vanquish in order to seize that fourth belt was not a household name, but those working in the prizefighting racket knew Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor was one hell of a fighter. In contrast to popular champions like Leonard and Hearns, Pryor’s whole career had been a struggle for recognition. An outstanding amateur talent with over two hundred wins, he had dropped a close decision to Howard Davis Jr in a critical match and so failed to make the team that won a boatload of medals at the 1976 Olympics. Without the fame a gold medal would have brought him, Pryor soon discovered the public was not particularly anxious to buy tickets to his fights.
While some might have been discouraged by this, being the outsider was nothing new for Pryor. He had always been regarded as a misfit, despite the fact no one trained harder and no one fought with more ferocity. Relentless and unorthodox inside the ring, his character outside of it proved erratic and difficult. Once he turned pro, almost no one wanted to manage him and even fewer wanted to fight him. It was so bad he had to abandon the 135 pound weight class and climb up to the super-lightweights in order to get a title shot. After annihilating veteran champion Antonio Cervantes in four rounds, his hometown of Cincinnati held a parade for him that was literally one car long.
In stark contrast to Pryor, Alexis Arguello was smooth and charming, both in and out of the ring. An elder statesman and something of a legend, his class and sportsmanship was as admired as his excellent ring technique and lethal power. Boasting a devastating right hand and 62 knockouts in 72 wins, Arguello had the respect and approval of almost everyone in boxing, while the bitter Pryor charmed no one. And unlike Arguello’s refined and studied ring craft, Pryor was wild and unpredictable, constantly darting, lunging, and throwing heavy punches from any position and any angle.
Against Arguello, few thought Pryor would win. More to the point, the public wanted Alexis to succeed and make history, and the stands at the cavernous Orange Bowl in Miami filled up with thousands of Latin-Americans eager to see their hero become a superstar. But the anti-Pryor crowd didn’t bother the champion in the least. People had been tearing Aaron down and telling him he’d never amount to much all his life and he had proven them all wrong. And he knew better than anyone that defeat to Arguello would mean being quickly cast aside so more popular boxers could get the big opportunities and the big money. If Arguello was fighting for history, Pryor had an equally potent motivation: to make himself matter.
The intense and thrilling battle that took place that night has only grown in stature over the years; Pryor vs Arguello I is widely viewed as one of the greatest action fights of all time. And it was Pryor who made it a war. From the outset “The Cincinnati Cyclone” charged at Arguello with one thing on his mind: knockout. The opening round shocked everyone as the champion immediately imposed a ferocious and fast-paced slugfest. It was an opening round to rival that of Hagler vs Hearns, Pryor throwing 130 punches, the normally patient Arguello not far behind with 108.
Thus the tone and pace of the contest were set; round after furious round rushed by at breakneck speed as the two champions slugged it out. Pryor appeared to have the edge with his faster hands and relentless buzzsaw style, but Arguello’s fans never lost heart because they knew victory was just one clean right hand away. The only problem with this theory was that whenever Pryor got nailed, he just smiled and tore back in for more. Arguello regularly struck with flush overhand or straight rights that would have stunned a rhinoceros, but had little effect on the wild man from Ohio who just never stopped throwing punches.
All were amazed at the sturdiness of Pryor’s chin.
But even wild men are human, and as the bout entered the later rounds, Pryor’s kamikaze attack appeared to wind down. Behind on points and sporting cuts around the eyes, Arguello seized the initiative and began to drive the champion back with his favourite combination, a left hook to the body followed by the right hand upstairs. Rounds eleven and twelve belonged to the challenger and the Latin American fans roared as Pryor looked to be fading while their hero appeared on the cusp of making history. But appearances were deceiving; it was not to be.
The gallant triple-crown king made his last stand in round thirteen. The crowd exulted as Alexis dug deep with big left hooks to the body followed by huge rights hands upstairs, one of which hit Pryor so violently it buckled his knees and had him looking straight up to the skylights above. But the determined champion simply refused to go down. At the end of the round, Alexis must have been asking himself, “What do I have to hit this guy with, a sledgehammer?” And indeed, as round fourteen began, Arguello was visibly deflated and fatigued, breathing through his mouth and suddenly there to be hit.
Pryor immediately took advantage. He stunned Arguello with a left, staggered him with a right, then softened him up with a series of jabs before smashing home a thunderous right hand that could have caved in a side of the Orange Bowl. Arguello’s whole body buckled and will alone kept him upright as he skittered backwards to the ropes. Pryor pounced and connected with more than a dozen flush power shots before the referee finally jumped in to stop it and Alexis crumbled to the canvas. After fourteen furious rounds, Pryor had halted Arguello’s bid for fistic immortality.
Arguello on the canvas at battle’s end.
And yet even this victory, the biggest of his life, the critics and detractors tried to take from Pryor. Before the final round, his trainer, Panama Lewis, later convicted of tampering with a boxer’s gloves and subsequently banned from boxing, had been overheard asking for a special water bottle, “the one [he] mixed,” and in the bout’s aftermath everyone offered up their preferred stimulant as the secret ingredient.
As if that really had anything to do with the outcome. As if Pryor needed the help of any dirty tricks to win. As if he had not clearly demonstrated that no one short of King Kong was going to beat him that night, because the champion, who had given the greatest performance of his career, knew: defeat was not an option. Or as Pryor himself put it a few days before this electrifying war that will never be forgotten: “If he loses, he’s still a champion. But if I lose it’s over. For me, it’s either $4.95 an hour or world champion. Everything’s on the line for me.”
Great photos from the first Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello fight. This is Aaron Pryor and Alexis Arguello facing off before the fight at a press conference.
It's a well known fact that Aaron Pryor would point at his opponents before each fight, he would stare at them and point his glove at them, basically trying to intimidate them and let them know that it's Hawk time. These are two of the most epic boxing photos I've ever seen, Aaron Pryor pointing at Arguello before their first fight and one of his trainers standing alongside him and giving the thumbs down, what an image.
These images are from the end of the fight, Aaron Pryor pinned Arguello against the ropes and hit him with about twenty unanswered shots when the referee Stanley Christodoulou stepped in and stopped the fight at 1:06 in the 14th round.
Sept. 9, 1983: Pryor vs Arguello II. Alexis Faces The Painful Truth
By: Michael Carbert
Do a Google search for Alexis Arguello and you end up with articles and videos about Aaron Pryor. Do one for Aaron Pryor and you end up with all kinds of links and posts about Alexis Arguello. It may not be entirely fair to either man, but these two champions and Hall Of Famers are defined to a great extent by each other. Much like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, or John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg, the legacies and identities of Arguello and Pryor are wound up with each other and the two titanic battles they gave us in the early 1980s. And because those two clashes were so consequential, not to mention furiously competitive and exciting, they dwarf in significance almost every other match on their records. The destinies of these two warriors can never be separated.
Alexis Arguello
As shattering as it was for Arguello when Pryor turned back his historic bid to become the first man to win world titles in four weight divisions, the experience of losing a major fight was not new to “The Explosive Thin Man.” In fact, as a young pro, he had lost two of the first five matches of his career, and in 1974 he failed in his initial attempt to win a world title, dropping a decision to Ernesto Marcel. He more than made up for that setback when he stopped Hall of Fame champion Ruben Olivares later the same year, and so began his great run as one of the best boxers on the planet. But even as a champion, Arguello knew defeat, dropping a split decision to Vilomar Fernandez in a non-title match in 1978.
But the loss to Pryor in 1982 was far more devastating. It wasn’t so much that in Pryor he encountered his most relentless and formidable adversary and that he took more punishment than in any previous bout, but more the fact that this was, by a large margin, the biggest fight of Alexis Arguello’s career, one of the biggest of the 80’s, a decade of huge fights. It was about the fact that Arguello had been perfectly positioned to become a superstar, and that the thousands in Miami’s Orange Bowl that November night were there expressly to see Alexis win, to see a new king of the sports world crowned.
Aaron Pryor
One of the reasons Arguello was poised to become a true crossover star, joining the likes of Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran and Marvin Hagler as mainstream attractions, was because of his reputation for class and sportsmanship. Previous to his showdown with Pryor, his most high-profile match had been his 1981 title defense against Ray Mancini, a bout watched by millions on live national television. Young “Boom Boom” Mancini’s quest to win a world championship for his father, a top contender in the 1940’s whose ring career was cut short when he joined the army during World War II, had captured the imagination of American sports fans. They cheered him on as he gave Arguello a tough and exciting battle before Ray succumbed to the more experienced champion in round fourteen. But in the post-fight interviews, the victor was nothing short of gallant, expressing admiration and respect for Ray and predicting Mancini would soon come back and win a world title, a forecast which came true short months later.
“The Hawk” overwhelms Arguello in Miami.
This display of sportsmanship made a huge impression and endeared Alexis to millions. And in the victories that followed, all broadcast on live television, sports fans could count on Arguello — now regarded as one of the finest pugilists in the world pound-for-pound, as well as an elder statesman and a latter-day great — to offer his fallen opponents similar classy gestures. But in the aftermath of the loss to Pryor, sports fans saw a different side of the triple-crown king.
It’s important to remember that most boxing experts thought Arguello too experienced and skilled for Pryor, and that his fans eagerly anticipated their hero establishing himself as nothing short of a sports legend with a monumental win. The pressure was immense and so was the disappointment when Alexis was pummeled into helplessness at the end of a sensational battle. Looking back, we know there was no shame at all in losing to the irrepressible force of nature that was a prime Aaron Pryor, but at the time many viewed “The Hawk” as not quite in Arguello’s league. And such was the Nicaraguan’s mortification at his defeat that, by his own admission, he feigned unconsciousness after the bout was stopped, frightening many as he lay unresponsive on the canvas for several long minutes.
Arguello after being stopped in round fourteen.
And so the Alexis Arguello who emerged from the ring that night in Florida was a different man from the one who entered it. However, it was not defeat alone which left its mark on him, so much as defeat when millions of Latin Americans were fervently praying for his victory and betting large sums of money that he would redeem those prayers. Under the intense pressure, and with all the expectations and the ensuing disappointment, he cracked, and instead of modesty and class, Arguello showed the world bitterness and spite. Immediately following the loss he blamed his trainer, Eddie Futch, claiming the legendary coach had “overtrained” him and sapped his endurance. He would later apologize for the rash statement, calling it “the biggest mistake of his life,” but not before the venerable Futch vowed to never work with him again.
But no matter, there was in fact a better excuse to seize upon, that being the mysterious “mixed” water bottle which Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, called for that night, just before the champion charged out and battered Arguello into submission. Those sympathetic to Alexis pointed to foul play by Lewis, especially after he was caught tampering with Luis Resto’s gloves the following June and was subsequently banned from boxing. Surely the real reason why Alexis Arguello, seemingly fated to make sports history in Miami, had fallen to a fighter most expected him to vanquish, was that Lewis, or someone, had undermined fair competition. Surely something explained the outcome other than the possibility that, while Arguello was a legend and a three division champion, Aaron Pryor had simply been the better man on the night.
Thus, the need to redeem himself, and rectify what many viewed as an unjust outcome, became Arguello’s obsession. And one might have thought that, given the status of the boxers and the sheer excitement of that first savage encounter, a rematch would have been the simplest and easiest of things to arrange. And yet it was not. Pryor held the World Boxing Association version of the super-lightweight title, and the WBA, for reasons no one could fathom, refused now to rank Arguello in their top ten, which meant he was not eligible for another title match. The sheer absurdity of the situation did not deter the WBA from denying him a ranking for several months, during which time both Pryor and Alexis made ring appearances, in the process risking millions of dollars.
Pryor, obeying the WBA’s bidding, turned in a perfunctory defense of his title, beating a boxer the sanctioning body absurdly deemed better than Alexis Arguello, Sang Hyun Kim of Korea. The fight was a deplorable mismatch and ended in round three. Meanwhile, Arguello, driven as he was to redeem himself, even though no redemption was needed given a career already more than Hall of Fame worthy, elected to face his former conqueror, Vilomar Fernandez, just four months after the loss to Pryor. He won a unanimous decision, but when the WBA still denied him a ranking, he then fought former WBA champion Claude Noel, who succumbed to Alexis in three rounds. Arguello was in fact preparing to face rising contender Billy Costello when, finally, the geniuses at the WBA realized the error of their ways and granted him a top ten ranking. And just like that, the rematch was on.
When Arguello vs Pryor II was officially announced, anticipation was just as high as for the first bout, but for different reasons. What spurred ticket sales in ’82 was adulation for Arguello and the expectation of history being made; this time it was the more straight-forward anticipation of straight-up excitement, of another action-packed war, that first scintillating clash regarded as one of the most exciting fights of recent years. But this time far fewer pundits were willing to bet the farm on Arguello seizing that fourth world title and thus the allure and magic of the initial Arguello vs Pryor battle was conspicuously absent. Instead of a massive football stadium filled to the rafters with delirious Latin Americans, the rematch was held at the more banal environs of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.
Looking back, the more modest expectations, the delays and obstructions in allowing the rematch to happen: it was as if something was trying to save Alexis Arguello from a harsh reckoning with reality, with the painful truth that his failure to fulfill the expectations of so many had nothing to do with over-demanding trainers or mixed water bottles, but instead was about a driven champion in his prime who refused to lose.
And indeed, Arguello’s fate was evident, to all but the most hopeful, early in the final act of this almost-Shakespearean drama of ambition and hubris. At the bell, Pryor vs Arguello II started in the same fashion as the first fight, with a thrilling, fast-paced, toe-to-toe slugfest in the opening round, both warriors showing no fear and letting go huge punches, both men landing. But just forty seconds in Pryor threw two jabs and then an overhand right which clipped Alexis on the chin; the challenger stumbled backwards and toppled to the floor. Right then and there the worst fears of the Arguello faithful appeared confirmed. But Alexis was not prepared to accept that Pryor’s speed, aggressiveness and punching power were more than he could handle. Instead he rose and battled back valiantly, shaking Pryor before the end of the round with heavy right hands of his own.
Arguello down in round four.
Arguello down in round four.
Alexis rebounded in the next two rounds and in fact he imposed his will in a way he never had in the first fight, throwing combinations of power punches and forcing Pryor to give ground. In the second a right hand buckled the champion’s legs, sending him stumbling across the ring near the end of Arguello’s best round yet against “The Hawk.” And in round three it was the challenger hurting the champion with left hooks and right uppercuts to the body, Pryor smiling and shaking his head even as he backed away and flinched in the face of Arguello’s onslaught.
But just as his fans felt hope stirring in their hearts, Alexis was on the canvas again in round four after Pryor unleashed one of his whirling attacks and pounded home a huge right hand followed this time by a sharp left hook. Alexis beat the count and Pryor rushed in for the kill and the result was a series of furious exchanges, both men landing as the crowd roared, Arguello almost going down again. At the bell to end the round, the dazed challenger marched to the wrong corner.
But if Pryor or anyone else thought the man some called “El Caballero del Ring” was finished, they were dead wrong. The challenger surged back in the very next round, using his jab effectively and throwing combinations behind it. By round seven one of boxing’s great body punchers was finding a groove and crashing heavy artillery to Pryor’s belly, the painful blows causing the champion to complain to referee Richard Steele that more than a few were straying south of the border. Arguello pressed, striking with more body punches as well as right hands to the head, and he continued in round eight, mixing his punches beautifully, staggering the champion with heavy shots and giving his fervent fans reason to hope.
But just as Arguello appeared on the verge of taking over the fight, referee Steele abruptly intervened and administered a one point penalty to the challenger for low blows. The brief respite clearly aided the champion. Alexis tried to pick up where he had left off when action resumed, but suddenly he was tiring and by the end of round nine it was Pryor who had regained control, his punches hurting the fading challenger.
Round ten marked the end of the dream for Alexis Arguello and his fans. All his hopes of becoming a crossover sports star by winning an unprecedented fourth world title, and of reversing the most bitter and painful defeat of his long career, all of it was blown away for good by the irresistible whirlwind that was Aaron Pryor as the tireless champion launched a final ferocious attack. Sensing Alexis had little left, Pryor came forward fearlessly, disdaining defense and simply battering his man with one vicious power punch after another.
And it was then that a look of resignation settled on the handsome visage of Alexis Arguello. As he staggered about the ring, taking clean shot after clean shot, the undeniable truth, agonizing and irrevocable, finally became clear. And so after series of flush rights and lefts drove him once more to the canvas, there Alexis sat, calm and fully aware, his arms folded around his knees as he nodded and stoically allowed Steele to count him out. The painful revelation he had denied for ten long months was finally accepted as he sat and waited for the contest to officially end: Aaron Pryor was the better man and his victory in November had been hard-earned and well-deserved.
Alexis surrenders in round ten.
After, at the post-fight press conference, a tearful Alexis Arguello searched for a coherent explanation for his surrender. “I didn’t want to risk my life,” he said. “On the third knockdown, I was protecting myself. I thought about how good Pryor is and I said, ‘Jesus, I will stay here.'”
For Arguello and for his fans, this was of course not the ending they had anticipated. Yes, there had been defeats, but Alexis Arguello was a winner and a great champion, and all he needed to become immortal was just one more victory. Was it asking so much? Was it really a fight too far? In a word, yes. Because the man standing in his way was no ordinary pugilist, no ordinary warrior. Aaron Pryor proved his own greatness by blocking a legend’s path to boxing stardom. Thus the destinies of these two great champions can never be separated. Together, they are immortal.
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Max Schmeling, "The Black Uhlan of the Rhine."
The 1929 Bronze sculpture (Der Boxer) of Max Schmeling by artist Rudolf Belling. The sculpture is housed at the Hamburger Kunsthalle museum in Hamburg, Germany.
Max Schmeling on a "Tale of the Tape" in 1936.
Ok, I guess it's time to wrap it up with the Max Schmeling photos, I got a bit carried away but I can't help it, he's one of my favorites. This is my all-time favorite photo of Max Schmeling, it's just a bada$$ image, standing on the grass, in a wicked pose, with the plants and the house. Love this shot.
Max Schmeling defensive highlights.
Max Schmeling, "The Black Uhlan of the Rhine."
"My game plan was mayhem. I just always went balls-to-the-wall in the gym. Even if you’re suffering from all kind of problems, you’ve just got to power through it. That was my philosophy on life. Life’s a fight."
Two GOATS.
A photo of Muhammad before his press conference at the United Nations Headquarters. At the conference, he announced that he would donate his circuit television earnings to UNICEF and Africare to aid countries affected by the Sahel drought.
Another photo I just ran across of the murderous punching lightweight great Ike Williams.
"El Radar" Wilfred Benitez sits on the apron of the ring at the end of his career in deep thought.
One of the coolest Ring magazine covers, "Sugar" Ray Leonard, June 1981.
This is an intense photo. Rocky Graziano joins Freddie "Red" Cochrane’s handlers and referee, Johnny Burns, in helping the limp and defeated challenger back to his corner. Cochrane was knocked out in 10th round of this fight on June 29, 1945 at the Madison Square Garden. Cochrane was knocked down for seven nine counts before he took a full count in the 10th.
Music break. Such a beautiful song.
If you were a lightweight in the 1970s, you did not want to look across the ring and see this.
The face of "The Onion Farmer" Carmen Basilio. The man ate rocks for breakfast and washed them down with rattlesnake venom. One of the hardest men to ever live.
Danny "Little Red" Lopez, murderous punching featherweight, does some chores as his wife supervises, love this photo.
Absolutely wicked image of the legendary great middleweight "Bad" Bennie Briscoe. Look at the eyes.
So I was looking at the news the other day and saw that a meteor entered Earth's atmosphere and exploded over an area in Cleveland, Ohio. Scary stuff, I couldn't help but immediately think about the famous Tunguska meteor event that happened in 1908. The Tunguska meteor, which exploded over Siberia in 1908, is estimated to have been a rocky asteroid or comet fragment between 40 and 200 meters (roughly 130 to 650 feet) in diameter. The object exploded 5–10 km above the ground, releasing energy equal to 10–15 megatons of TNT—1,000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb. The 1908 Tunguska explosion in Siberia was so powerful that it flattened approximately 80 million trees across 830 square miles (2,150 square kilometers) due to a massive atmospheric air burst. The blast, which occurred without leaving a crater, destroyed trees in a radial pattern, leaving standing trees near the epicenter stripped of branches, creating a distinctive "telegraph pole" appearance. Thank goodness it exploded in an isolated area like Siberia, if the Tunguska meteor had exploded over a city, the results would have been catastrophic. The area in Siberia is so isolated, difficult to get to, and remote that an expedition to the sight didn't take place until 1927 led by Leonid Kulik. Once the expedition reached the sight of the event, what they found shook them to the core, flattened and uprooted trees for as far as the eye could see. These are the photos they took.
It's honestly frightening to think that an asteroid fragment could sneak into Earth's atmosphere and explode over a city. If a fragment the size of the Tunguska event snuck in and exploded over a population, god help us.
This is an artist's rendition of how the Tunguska event might have looked if you were flying by the area on an airliner and looking out the window at the time of the event.
Just look at the area the Tunguska explosion covered, if it would have occured over New York City or Washington DC, those cities would have been leveled.
This is a photo of Leonid Kulik, the leader of the 1927 expedition to investigate the Tunguska event. The landscape in the area of the event, the Siberian taiga, is very inaccessible and unforgiving. Kulik attempted to reach the area in 1921, but the harsh, swampy terrain prevented him from reaching the site until 1927.
A lot of books have been written about the Tunguska event, the power of nature is fascinating stuff, but at the same time it's frightening.
Music time, one of the best songs of the 90s.
"When [James Toney] is mad, he'll put his fist through a glass window, throw a chair, knock over a table. There's a valve in James. Sometimes I can see the mercury start to rise, and I know a tantrum is coming. You usually do get a warning. If you don't get out of his way, its your stupidity. His mood is like a wave. You have to ride with it. If you try to fight it, you'll get wiped out."
It's Hawk time.
Credit: Detroit Boxing Legends Hall
Aaron Pryor didn’t just fight—he unleashed.
When he stepped into the ring, it wasn’t with the polished composure of a technician or the slow, thudding certainty of a heavyweight brawler. No, Pryor came like a storm that didn’t announce itself—wild, electric, unrelenting. He didn’t wait for an invitation to take control. He seized it. From the opening bell, he swarmed like a man who knew how short life could be and wasn’t about to waste a second of it.
Thirty-nine victories. Thirty-five knockouts. One loss.
But those numbers, as gaudy as they are, barely scratch the surface. They don’t capture the chaos he could create in a single round, or the way opponents—many of them brilliant in their own right—looked completely overwhelmed, as if they'd been dropped into a whirlwind they couldn't escape.
They called him “The Hawk,” but if you watched him fight, he felt more like a swarm of hornets—buzzing forward, throwing punches in flurries that didn’t seem governed by logic or rhythm, just raw instinct and fury. His conditioning was legendary. His will, exhausting. Most fighters had a gear they climbed into when things got tough. Pryor started in that gear and stayed there. And then some.
Look at his most famous nights—those unforgettable wars with Alexis Argüello. Especially that first one in 1982.
Argüello, the master technician, came in looking to make history by winning a title in a fourth weight class. He had class. He had a jab like a blueprint. But against Pryor, it all crumbled.
Round after round, Pryor came forward, relentless. His eyes—sharp, wild—never stopped scanning, calculating. His fists never stopped moving. Even when Argüello landed clean, Pryor didn’t flinch. He smiled. He charged.
Then came that 14th round. Argüello had given everything. He was fading. And Pryor—dear God—Pryor surged like a man possessed. The final barrage was merciless. Beautiful in its brutality. By the time it ended, Argüello slumped in the corner, not beaten by a better boxer—beaten by a man who simply refused to lose.
That’s what defined Aaron Pryor. Not just his power. Not just the win column. But the refusal to quit. The raw, unapologetic will to keep coming forward, to keep punching, to keep pushing beyond whatever seemed humanly possible.
Sure, he stumbled outside the ring. Fame is cruel like that. Drugs came. Scandals followed. He lost time. He lost some of himself.
But inside those ropes, for those years he was at his peak, there was no one quite like him.
And maybe that’s why the legend of Aaron Pryor still echoes—because he wasn’t just trying to win fights. He was fighting like he was chasing something bigger. Respect. Legacy. Redemption. All of it. Every round. Every punch.
He didn’t just leave the ring victorious. He left it empty—like he’d poured every last ounce of himself into it.
Man. Wow. Whoever wrote that post about Aaron Pryor, hats off. I almost had an orgasm reading it. Aaron Pryor was a two-time light welterweight champion, he retired with a record of 39-1 (35 KO), but anyone who follows boxing knows that Aaron Pryor never really lost, the one loss on his record was to Bobby Joe Young and that wasn't the real Aaron Pryor in the ring that night. The real Aaron Pryor was never beaten as a professional. That post was spot on about Pryor, he was known for an incredibly relentless, high-volume swarmer style, boasting 35 knockouts in 39 wins. His style featured blistering speed, constant pressure from the opening bell, unpredictable feints, and an exceptional ability to throw upwards of 100+ punches per round, he could hit you from insane angles and he was an absolutely fearless and ruthless fighter. It's impossible not to love "The Hawk" if you're a true boxing fan.
Credit: International Boxing Hall of Fame (IBHOF)
Aaron (The Hawk) Pryor
CONSIDERED AMONG the greatest junior welterweight champions of all-time, Aaron Pryor secured his place in boxing history with a pair of knockout victories over fellow Hall of Famer Alexis Arguello.
Pryor earned the nickname "The Hawk" for the ferocious manner in which he devastated his opponents. In his 25th fight he challenged Antonio Cervantes for the WBA junior welterweight title. He rose from the canvas in the first round to stop Cervantes in the fourth round and captured the world title. He made five title defenses -- each a knockout -- before meeting Arguello.
The first Pryor-Arguello fight was held at the Orange Bowl in Miami and was so fierce and dramatic that it was named "Fight of the Year."
Drug addiction cut Pryor's brilliant career short. He later tried to make several comeback attempts but eye injuries forced him into permanent retirement.
Born: Oct. 20, 1955
Bouts: 40
Won: 39
Lost: 1
KOs: 35
Induction: 1996
A great article about "The Hawk "
THE 100 GREATEST BOXERS OF ALL-TIME #89: AARON PRYOR
By: Kenneth Bridgham
“THE HAWK”
39 WINS (35 BY KO), 1 LOSS
World Junior Welterweight Champion 1980–1985
Boxing Writers Association of America Fighter of the Year 1982
International Boxing Hall of Fame Inductee 1996
Sugar Ray Leonard was the most successful and most popular non-heavyweight boxing star of the 1970s and 1980s. Part of that success came from his willingness to engage in mega-fights with the biggest fighters of his day. There was only one man Leonard was seriously accused of ducking during his prime, and that was Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor, the fast and aggressive junior welterweight titlist. Denied a spot on the all-star American boxing team at the 1976 Montreal Olympics after losing in the trials to Howard Davis (who went on to win the gold), Pryor earned just $400 for his pro debut. Leonard made $40,444 for his. But Pryor would ultimately earn his own place as one of the elite fighters of their generation.
At his best, Aaron Pryor drew constant comparisons with the legendary Henry Armstrong because of the ferocity of his attack, his capacity for throwing punches from every angle, his iron chin, and his combination of speed and power. After turning pro in November 1976, he went undefeated in 24 fights (22 won by knockout) before challenging veteran Hall of Famer Antonio “Kid Pambele” Cervantes for the WBA (and lineal) world junior welterweight (140 lbs.) championship on August 7, 1980, in Pryor’s hometown of Cincinnati. Rising from an early knockdown, he battered Cervantes to a fourth-round stoppage to pick up the title.
In all, Pryor would defend the WBA title eight times in just under four years. All those defenses were won by knockout or stoppage, including his classic November 12, 1982 war with Hall of Famer Alexis Arguello of Nicaragua at Miami’s Orange Bowl. It was a punishing battle that many still consider the best junior middleweight title fight in history. Arguello, attempting to be the first man to win major belts in four weight classes, was a poised boxer with dangerous power in his right hand, but Pryor was the aggressor from the opening bell. He set the record for most punches thrown in an opening round, 130, and walked through brutal return fire through the rest of the match to fire off combinations on the inside. By the end of the thirteenth round, Pryor was leading on two out of three judges’ scorecards, but momentum was beginning to turn Arguello’s way. Then, in the fourteenth, Pryor rocketed out of his corner with surprisingly renewed energy and mounted a merciless assault of 23 unanswered punches that left Arguello helpless on the ropes. The referee stopped the fight. The Nicaraguan did not make it back onto his feet for another four minutes.
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It was the most momentous victory of Pryor’s stellar career, but controversy plagued him inside and outside of the ring. Tapes of the television broadcast of the Arguello fight revealed that Aaron had been given a “mixed” bottle of fluids by trainer Panama Lewis in his corner before making his fourteenth-round resurgence, prompting allegations of drug use. An investigation ensued, though no official findings or charges resulted.
Pryor was indeed spiraling into drug addiction. As his private life turned to chaos, he was twice shot, once by a girlfriend and another time by drug dealers. He subsidized a huge entourage of friends and hangers-on who depleted his ring earnings. Managerial and legal disputes also got in the way of proposed bouts with Saoul Mamby and Roberto Duran. Worse yet, he had suffered a detached retina in his right eye and was keeping it a secret.
Through all the chaos and injury, Pryor continued to win. He beat Arguello a second time, knocking him out in ten rounds in 1983. Later that year, he announced his retirement with a record of 33–0 (31 wins by KO).
Problems with money, ego, and drugs prompted two comebacks over the coming years, resulting in the lone loss of his career to Bobby Joe Young in 1987, but by then Pryor’s outrageous lifestyle had ruined the prime of one of the outstanding boxing stars of the 1980s.
Aaron Pryors Record vs. Hall of Famers & Lineal World Champions:
8/2/1980 — W (KO) 4 — Antonio Cervantes
11/12/1982 — W (TKO) 14 — Alexis Arguello
9/9/1983 — W (KO) 10 — Alexis Arguello
Aaron Pryor vs Antonio "Kid Pambele" Cervantes in 1980. Aaron Pryor becomes a world champion. Gosh, Antonio Cervantes was dangerous as hell, that guy could bang. Aaron Pryor himself said that Cervantes was hardest puncher he ever faced. Pryor generally fought only one way: coming forward and throwing a lot of punches. He had better defense than many expected, but his style meant he sometimes ate big shots while wading in, which Cervantes capitalized on at the end of round 1 by sending Pryor down. When Pryor got up, he memorably wound his arm around threateningly before landing the first punch when action resumed. Pryor would then ramp up his pressure until finally cornering Cervantes in round 4 and unleashing a combination that put the champion down for the count.
The Fight City
Aug. 2, 1980: Pryor vs Cervantes
By: Michael Carbert
The Montreal Olympics in 1976 was a galvanizing moment for boxing in America, an event that saw the sport gain new stars and new fans, as the U.S. amateur team became one of the biggest stories of the games. Michael Spinks, Leo Randolph, Howard Davis Jr., Leon Spinks and Ray Leonard all won gold medals and soon after signed lucrative contracts to turn pro. Within a few short years Randolph, Leonard and Leon Spinks had won world titles, while Davis and Michael Spinks ranked as top contenders in their respective divisions.
But right behind all those new stars and feel-good stories were the boxers who had just missed having a chance to hear the cheers at the Olympics. Aaron Pryor had wanted to be on that podium in Montreal as much as any other young pugilist, but he dropped a close decision to Davis in the Olympic Trials. His record of over two hundred amateur wins, his reputation, and his performance against Davis, had earned him a spot as an alternate on the team, but after the closing ceremonies everyone knew who Howard Davis Jr. was; few had heard of Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor.
A young Aaron Pryor: no one wanted to fight him, all feared “The Hawk.”
Pryor immediately turned pro and went about laying waste to the lightweight division, setting a breakneck pace to compliment his swarming, all-action style. In less than three years he had racked up nineteen straight wins, all but two by knockout. He was still “Aaron Who?” outside of his native Cincinnati, but the top contenders in the lightweight division were definitely aware of both his presence and his penchant for overwhelming opponents with his fearsome attack.
Which led to a new problem for Pryor: no one wanted to fight him. His activity rate plummeted and so did his bank account. Scrambling for both matches and income, Pryor resorted to working as a sparring partner for none other than Howard Davis Jr., but he lost that job when he decked the gold medalist during a training session.
Meanwhile, boxers Pryor had beaten in the amateurs were getting big money deals and national television exposure. He had defeated Thomas Hearns but now “The Hit Man” was an emerging star, his bouts broadcast regularly on national television. Pryor had defeated Hilmer Kenty in the amateurs no fewer than thirteen times, seven of the wins by stoppage, yet it was Kenty, not Pryor, who got the shot at WBA lightweight champ Ernesto Espana. Matchmaker Gil Clancy even offered Espana an extra fifty grand to fight Pryor instead of Kenty, but such was the reputation of “The Hawk” that the Venezuelan turned him down. Instead he took on Kenty and lost by ninth round stoppage in a one-sided brawl.
The legendary Kid Pambele.
“I never dreamed Kenty would get a title shot before me,” moaned Pryor to the press. He was now taking every opportunity to voice his frustrations to the media, repeatedly calling out the top contenders and champions in the lightweight division. “What do I gotta do,” he asked, “to get a fight at Madison Square Garden or on television?”
Then someone had a bright idea: if Pryor couldn’t land a major bout at 135, why not move up to 140?
Colombia’s Antonio Cervantes was something of a mysterious figure to U.S. boxing fans. Despite the fact he had been a world champion for most of the preceding eight years, had dominated the super-lightweight division, and was a living legend in his native Columbia, his face and name were little known, most of his fights taking place in Venezuela and Panama. Another mystery was his age. He insisted he was 34, but he looked older; it was whispered he was past forty. And while he had won thirteen straight since losing to the gifted Wilfred Benitez back in 1976, he was a decided underdog going into his title defense against Pryor.
Cervantes had rebounded from a defeat in 1976 to a 17-year-old Wilfred Benitez.
But the real mystery was why he was in Cincinnati in the first place, why he had agreed to do what so many would not: take on Aaron Pryor, in his hometown, no less. But whatever back room deals may have been involved, Pryor finally had a title shot and an appearance on national television. “The Hawk” made the most of it.
As the fighters awaited the opening bell in the ring they presented a study in contrasts. The 24-year-old Pryor couldn’t stand still. Keyed up and ready to fight, he danced about the ring, shadow boxing and flexing his muscles and glaring at Cervantes. Meanwhile the champion sat slumped on his stool like a tired shift worker patiently waiting for the next bus home. A veteran of over a hundred bouts, this was just another day at the office for “Kid Pambele,” his facial expression and body language that of someone ready for a nap, not a world championship fight. Or maybe it was that of a ring-worn veteran, ripe for the taking by a younger, hungrier fighter.
Pryor vs Cervantes
Broadcast live on CBS, Pryor vs Cervantes followed the timeless script of the proud, old king versus the young upstart in search of glory. At the bell, “The Hawk” tore after the champion, chasing him about the ring and unleashing a non-stop barrage of leather. Cervantes appeared briefly perplexed by the challenger’s aggression and the absence of any “feeling out” process but soon enough began to find openings for counter shots. Displaying admirable grace under pressure, he connected with counter left hooks as Pryor, a veritable buzzsaw, kept charging in, though the challenger landed few effective blows. Setting a whirlwind pace, he forced Cervantes into the ropes again and again but then, with seconds left in the round, a short counter hook and a right hand connected and Pryor’s knee briefly touched the canvas. Round one to the champion.
Pryor’s attack was ferocious and unceasing.
The torrid pace continued in the second in what was clearly a contest between youthful exuberance and veteran ring-smarts. Cervantes repeatedly got home with clean punches as Pryor’s brazen attack left him wide open for counters, but it was the champion who appeared hurt near the end of the round, as Pryor landed two hard rights. Returning to his corner at the bell, Cervantes could be seen gulping air, the pace already affecting his stamina.
With his cornermen urging Pryor to “Go get that old man!” the challenger started the third with two more powerful rights as he sought to take full control. Seconds later a series of right hands put Cervantes on the run and opened a deep gash over his right eye, and while the champion continued to score with solid counters, the punches had no effect on the constantly charging Pryor. The sight of his quarry’s blood drove the challenger to attack with even more intensity, his unceasing assault driving a bewildered Cervantes from one side of the ring to the other. His legs already unsteady, the Colombian clinched and held to survive the round.
Cervantes down for the count in round four.
To his credit, Cervantes never gave up. Hurt, tired and bleeding, he continued to fight back as Pryor went for the kill in the fourth, but his counter punches, while they kept landing, were like pebbles thrown at a runaway train. Soon enough he found himself trapped again in his own corner as Pryor unloaded another barrage of right hands. The champion, overwhelmed, tried to clinch but “The Hawk” shrugged him off and kept firing until a crushing overhand right landed flush on Cervantes’ chin and dropped him. The old king gallantly tried to rise but could not. The long championship run of “Kid Pambele” had come to a sudden and violent end.
Champion at last.
The crowd at the Riverfront Coliseum rejoiced, Cincinnati celebrating its first world champion since the days of Wallace “Bud” Smith and Ezzard Charles. Finally, it was no longer “Aaron Who?” but Aaron the champion, the fighter everyone feared. The new champ would go on to become a major attraction, his title defenses broadcast on national television as he demolished one contender after another with his wild, incessant, tornado fighting style, blasting his way towards a big money showdown with triple-crown champion Alexis Arguello and fistic immortality.
Another great shot from the Aaron Pryor-Antonio Cervantes fight showing the kind of relentless pressure Aaron Pryor applied to his opponents.
The photo Antonio Cervantes on the deck in color.
An on-site poster for the Aaron Pryor-Antonio Cervantes fight owned by the legendary Dan Rafael.
Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello I, one of the greatest fights in boxing history.
The Fight City
Nov. 12, 1982: Pryor vs Arguello I
By: Michael Carbert
It’s the fall of 1982 and the sport of boxing is bigger than ever. Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hearns are all mainstream stars and fight fans enjoy championship matches on free cable TV almost every weekend. Rocky III is a huge hit at the box office, and just a few months before one of the richest fights of all-time had taken place, Larry Holmes vs Gerry Cooney. And standing right in the thick of things, not yet a boxing superstar but certainly one of the higher profile champions: Alexis Arguello.
A regular on network television, the Nicaraguan is regarded as not only one of the best boxers on the planet, but an all-time great, only the seventh fighter in pugilism’s long history to win three divisional world titles. And that’s what the big battle in Miami’s Orange Bowl was all about: to see if Arguello could emerge as a true immortal, a sports superstar, by becoming the first boxer ever to win world titles in four different weight classes.
The man Arguello had to vanquish in order to seize that fourth belt was not a household name, but those working in the prizefighting racket knew Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor was one hell of a fighter. In contrast to popular champions like Leonard and Hearns, Pryor’s whole career had been a struggle for recognition. An outstanding amateur talent with over two hundred wins, he had dropped a close decision to Howard Davis Jr in a critical match and so failed to make the team that won a boatload of medals at the 1976 Olympics. Without the fame a gold medal would have brought him, Pryor soon discovered the public was not particularly anxious to buy tickets to his fights.
While some might have been discouraged by this, being the outsider was nothing new for Pryor. He had always been regarded as a misfit, despite the fact no one trained harder and no one fought with more ferocity. Relentless and unorthodox inside the ring, his character outside of it proved erratic and difficult. Once he turned pro, almost no one wanted to manage him and even fewer wanted to fight him. It was so bad he had to abandon the 135 pound weight class and climb up to the super-lightweights in order to get a title shot. After annihilating veteran champion Antonio Cervantes in four rounds, his hometown of Cincinnati held a parade for him that was literally one car long.
In stark contrast to Pryor, Alexis Arguello was smooth and charming, both in and out of the ring. An elder statesman and something of a legend, his class and sportsmanship was as admired as his excellent ring technique and lethal power. Boasting a devastating right hand and 62 knockouts in 72 wins, Arguello had the respect and approval of almost everyone in boxing, while the bitter Pryor charmed no one. And unlike Arguello’s refined and studied ring craft, Pryor was wild and unpredictable, constantly darting, lunging, and throwing heavy punches from any position and any angle.
Against Arguello, few thought Pryor would win. More to the point, the public wanted Alexis to succeed and make history, and the stands at the cavernous Orange Bowl in Miami filled up with thousands of Latin-Americans eager to see their hero become a superstar. But the anti-Pryor crowd didn’t bother the champion in the least. People had been tearing Aaron down and telling him he’d never amount to much all his life and he had proven them all wrong. And he knew better than anyone that defeat to Arguello would mean being quickly cast aside so more popular boxers could get the big opportunities and the big money. If Arguello was fighting for history, Pryor had an equally potent motivation: to make himself matter.
The intense and thrilling battle that took place that night has only grown in stature over the years; Pryor vs Arguello I is widely viewed as one of the greatest action fights of all time. And it was Pryor who made it a war. From the outset “The Cincinnati Cyclone” charged at Arguello with one thing on his mind: knockout. The opening round shocked everyone as the champion immediately imposed a ferocious and fast-paced slugfest. It was an opening round to rival that of Hagler vs Hearns, Pryor throwing 130 punches, the normally patient Arguello not far behind with 108.
Thus the tone and pace of the contest were set; round after furious round rushed by at breakneck speed as the two champions slugged it out. Pryor appeared to have the edge with his faster hands and relentless buzzsaw style, but Arguello’s fans never lost heart because they knew victory was just one clean right hand away. The only problem with this theory was that whenever Pryor got nailed, he just smiled and tore back in for more. Arguello regularly struck with flush overhand or straight rights that would have stunned a rhinoceros, but had little effect on the wild man from Ohio who just never stopped throwing punches.
All were amazed at the sturdiness of Pryor’s chin.
But even wild men are human, and as the bout entered the later rounds, Pryor’s kamikaze attack appeared to wind down. Behind on points and sporting cuts around the eyes, Arguello seized the initiative and began to drive the champion back with his favourite combination, a left hook to the body followed by the right hand upstairs. Rounds eleven and twelve belonged to the challenger and the Latin American fans roared as Pryor looked to be fading while their hero appeared on the cusp of making history. But appearances were deceiving; it was not to be.
The gallant triple-crown king made his last stand in round thirteen. The crowd exulted as Alexis dug deep with big left hooks to the body followed by huge rights hands upstairs, one of which hit Pryor so violently it buckled his knees and had him looking straight up to the skylights above. But the determined champion simply refused to go down. At the end of the round, Alexis must have been asking himself, “What do I have to hit this guy with, a sledgehammer?” And indeed, as round fourteen began, Arguello was visibly deflated and fatigued, breathing through his mouth and suddenly there to be hit.
Pryor immediately took advantage. He stunned Arguello with a left, staggered him with a right, then softened him up with a series of jabs before smashing home a thunderous right hand that could have caved in a side of the Orange Bowl. Arguello’s whole body buckled and will alone kept him upright as he skittered backwards to the ropes. Pryor pounced and connected with more than a dozen flush power shots before the referee finally jumped in to stop it and Alexis crumbled to the canvas. After fourteen furious rounds, Pryor had halted Arguello’s bid for fistic immortality.
Arguello on the canvas at battle’s end.
And yet even this victory, the biggest of his life, the critics and detractors tried to take from Pryor. Before the final round, his trainer, Panama Lewis, later convicted of tampering with a boxer’s gloves and subsequently banned from boxing, had been overheard asking for a special water bottle, “the one [he] mixed,” and in the bout’s aftermath everyone offered up their preferred stimulant as the secret ingredient.
As if that really had anything to do with the outcome. As if Pryor needed the help of any dirty tricks to win. As if he had not clearly demonstrated that no one short of King Kong was going to beat him that night, because the champion, who had given the greatest performance of his career, knew: defeat was not an option. Or as Pryor himself put it a few days before this electrifying war that will never be forgotten: “If he loses, he’s still a champion. But if I lose it’s over. For me, it’s either $4.95 an hour or world champion. Everything’s on the line for me.”
Great photos from the first Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello fight. This is Aaron Pryor and Alexis Arguello facing off before the fight at a press conference.
It's a well known fact that Aaron Pryor would point at his opponents before each fight, he would stare at them and point his glove at them, basically trying to intimidate them and let them know that it's Hawk time. These are two of the most epic boxing photos I've ever seen, Aaron Pryor pointing at Arguello before their first fight and one of his trainers standing alongside him and giving the thumbs down, what an image.
Alexis Arguello body shots, Arguello was a phenomenal body puncher.
Pryor on the attack.
Arguello on the attack, this was a brutal fight.
Pryor and Arguello resting in their corners during the fight. You can tell by the expressions on their faces just how brutal the fight was.
These images are from the end of the fight, Aaron Pryor pinned Arguello against the ropes and hit him with about twenty unanswered shots when the referee Stanley Christodoulou stepped in and stopped the fight at 1:06 in the 14th round.
Alexis Arguello afterwards. The end to an absolutely brutal fight.
Aaron Pryor looked like he had just been through hell and back after the fight, but that was Alexis Arguello, he made you earn every inch.
Alexis Arguello after the fight.
Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello II.
The Fight City
Sept. 9, 1983: Pryor vs Arguello II. Alexis Faces The Painful Truth
By: Michael Carbert
Do a Google search for Alexis Arguello and you end up with articles and videos about Aaron Pryor. Do one for Aaron Pryor and you end up with all kinds of links and posts about Alexis Arguello. It may not be entirely fair to either man, but these two champions and Hall Of Famers are defined to a great extent by each other. Much like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, or John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg, the legacies and identities of Arguello and Pryor are wound up with each other and the two titanic battles they gave us in the early 1980s. And because those two clashes were so consequential, not to mention furiously competitive and exciting, they dwarf in significance almost every other match on their records. The destinies of these two warriors can never be separated.
Alexis Arguello
As shattering as it was for Arguello when Pryor turned back his historic bid to become the first man to win world titles in four weight divisions, the experience of losing a major fight was not new to “The Explosive Thin Man.” In fact, as a young pro, he had lost two of the first five matches of his career, and in 1974 he failed in his initial attempt to win a world title, dropping a decision to Ernesto Marcel. He more than made up for that setback when he stopped Hall of Fame champion Ruben Olivares later the same year, and so began his great run as one of the best boxers on the planet. But even as a champion, Arguello knew defeat, dropping a split decision to Vilomar Fernandez in a non-title match in 1978.
But the loss to Pryor in 1982 was far more devastating. It wasn’t so much that in Pryor he encountered his most relentless and formidable adversary and that he took more punishment than in any previous bout, but more the fact that this was, by a large margin, the biggest fight of Alexis Arguello’s career, one of the biggest of the 80’s, a decade of huge fights. It was about the fact that Arguello had been perfectly positioned to become a superstar, and that the thousands in Miami’s Orange Bowl that November night were there expressly to see Alexis win, to see a new king of the sports world crowned.
Aaron Pryor
One of the reasons Arguello was poised to become a true crossover star, joining the likes of Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran and Marvin Hagler as mainstream attractions, was because of his reputation for class and sportsmanship. Previous to his showdown with Pryor, his most high-profile match had been his 1981 title defense against Ray Mancini, a bout watched by millions on live national television. Young “Boom Boom” Mancini’s quest to win a world championship for his father, a top contender in the 1940’s whose ring career was cut short when he joined the army during World War II, had captured the imagination of American sports fans. They cheered him on as he gave Arguello a tough and exciting battle before Ray succumbed to the more experienced champion in round fourteen. But in the post-fight interviews, the victor was nothing short of gallant, expressing admiration and respect for Ray and predicting Mancini would soon come back and win a world title, a forecast which came true short months later.
“The Hawk” overwhelms Arguello in Miami.
This display of sportsmanship made a huge impression and endeared Alexis to millions. And in the victories that followed, all broadcast on live television, sports fans could count on Arguello — now regarded as one of the finest pugilists in the world pound-for-pound, as well as an elder statesman and a latter-day great — to offer his fallen opponents similar classy gestures. But in the aftermath of the loss to Pryor, sports fans saw a different side of the triple-crown king.
It’s important to remember that most boxing experts thought Arguello too experienced and skilled for Pryor, and that his fans eagerly anticipated their hero establishing himself as nothing short of a sports legend with a monumental win. The pressure was immense and so was the disappointment when Alexis was pummeled into helplessness at the end of a sensational battle. Looking back, we know there was no shame at all in losing to the irrepressible force of nature that was a prime Aaron Pryor, but at the time many viewed “The Hawk” as not quite in Arguello’s league. And such was the Nicaraguan’s mortification at his defeat that, by his own admission, he feigned unconsciousness after the bout was stopped, frightening many as he lay unresponsive on the canvas for several long minutes.
Arguello after being stopped in round fourteen.
And so the Alexis Arguello who emerged from the ring that night in Florida was a different man from the one who entered it. However, it was not defeat alone which left its mark on him, so much as defeat when millions of Latin Americans were fervently praying for his victory and betting large sums of money that he would redeem those prayers. Under the intense pressure, and with all the expectations and the ensuing disappointment, he cracked, and instead of modesty and class, Arguello showed the world bitterness and spite. Immediately following the loss he blamed his trainer, Eddie Futch, claiming the legendary coach had “overtrained” him and sapped his endurance. He would later apologize for the rash statement, calling it “the biggest mistake of his life,” but not before the venerable Futch vowed to never work with him again.
But no matter, there was in fact a better excuse to seize upon, that being the mysterious “mixed” water bottle which Pryor’s trainer, Panama Lewis, called for that night, just before the champion charged out and battered Arguello into submission. Those sympathetic to Alexis pointed to foul play by Lewis, especially after he was caught tampering with Luis Resto’s gloves the following June and was subsequently banned from boxing. Surely the real reason why Alexis Arguello, seemingly fated to make sports history in Miami, had fallen to a fighter most expected him to vanquish, was that Lewis, or someone, had undermined fair competition. Surely something explained the outcome other than the possibility that, while Arguello was a legend and a three division champion, Aaron Pryor had simply been the better man on the night.
Thus, the need to redeem himself, and rectify what many viewed as an unjust outcome, became Arguello’s obsession. And one might have thought that, given the status of the boxers and the sheer excitement of that first savage encounter, a rematch would have been the simplest and easiest of things to arrange. And yet it was not. Pryor held the World Boxing Association version of the super-lightweight title, and the WBA, for reasons no one could fathom, refused now to rank Arguello in their top ten, which meant he was not eligible for another title match. The sheer absurdity of the situation did not deter the WBA from denying him a ranking for several months, during which time both Pryor and Alexis made ring appearances, in the process risking millions of dollars.
Pryor, obeying the WBA’s bidding, turned in a perfunctory defense of his title, beating a boxer the sanctioning body absurdly deemed better than Alexis Arguello, Sang Hyun Kim of Korea. The fight was a deplorable mismatch and ended in round three. Meanwhile, Arguello, driven as he was to redeem himself, even though no redemption was needed given a career already more than Hall of Fame worthy, elected to face his former conqueror, Vilomar Fernandez, just four months after the loss to Pryor. He won a unanimous decision, but when the WBA still denied him a ranking, he then fought former WBA champion Claude Noel, who succumbed to Alexis in three rounds. Arguello was in fact preparing to face rising contender Billy Costello when, finally, the geniuses at the WBA realized the error of their ways and granted him a top ten ranking. And just like that, the rematch was on.
When Arguello vs Pryor II was officially announced, anticipation was just as high as for the first bout, but for different reasons. What spurred ticket sales in ’82 was adulation for Arguello and the expectation of history being made; this time it was the more straight-forward anticipation of straight-up excitement, of another action-packed war, that first scintillating clash regarded as one of the most exciting fights of recent years. But this time far fewer pundits were willing to bet the farm on Arguello seizing that fourth world title and thus the allure and magic of the initial Arguello vs Pryor battle was conspicuously absent. Instead of a massive football stadium filled to the rafters with delirious Latin Americans, the rematch was held at the more banal environs of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.
Looking back, the more modest expectations, the delays and obstructions in allowing the rematch to happen: it was as if something was trying to save Alexis Arguello from a harsh reckoning with reality, with the painful truth that his failure to fulfill the expectations of so many had nothing to do with over-demanding trainers or mixed water bottles, but instead was about a driven champion in his prime who refused to lose.
And indeed, Arguello’s fate was evident, to all but the most hopeful, early in the final act of this almost-Shakespearean drama of ambition and hubris. At the bell, Pryor vs Arguello II started in the same fashion as the first fight, with a thrilling, fast-paced, toe-to-toe slugfest in the opening round, both warriors showing no fear and letting go huge punches, both men landing. But just forty seconds in Pryor threw two jabs and then an overhand right which clipped Alexis on the chin; the challenger stumbled backwards and toppled to the floor. Right then and there the worst fears of the Arguello faithful appeared confirmed. But Alexis was not prepared to accept that Pryor’s speed, aggressiveness and punching power were more than he could handle. Instead he rose and battled back valiantly, shaking Pryor before the end of the round with heavy right hands of his own.
Arguello down in round four.
Arguello down in round four.
Alexis rebounded in the next two rounds and in fact he imposed his will in a way he never had in the first fight, throwing combinations of power punches and forcing Pryor to give ground. In the second a right hand buckled the champion’s legs, sending him stumbling across the ring near the end of Arguello’s best round yet against “The Hawk.” And in round three it was the challenger hurting the champion with left hooks and right uppercuts to the body, Pryor smiling and shaking his head even as he backed away and flinched in the face of Arguello’s onslaught.
But just as his fans felt hope stirring in their hearts, Alexis was on the canvas again in round four after Pryor unleashed one of his whirling attacks and pounded home a huge right hand followed this time by a sharp left hook. Alexis beat the count and Pryor rushed in for the kill and the result was a series of furious exchanges, both men landing as the crowd roared, Arguello almost going down again. At the bell to end the round, the dazed challenger marched to the wrong corner.
But if Pryor or anyone else thought the man some called “El Caballero del Ring” was finished, they were dead wrong. The challenger surged back in the very next round, using his jab effectively and throwing combinations behind it. By round seven one of boxing’s great body punchers was finding a groove and crashing heavy artillery to Pryor’s belly, the painful blows causing the champion to complain to referee Richard Steele that more than a few were straying south of the border. Arguello pressed, striking with more body punches as well as right hands to the head, and he continued in round eight, mixing his punches beautifully, staggering the champion with heavy shots and giving his fervent fans reason to hope.
But just as Arguello appeared on the verge of taking over the fight, referee Steele abruptly intervened and administered a one point penalty to the challenger for low blows. The brief respite clearly aided the champion. Alexis tried to pick up where he had left off when action resumed, but suddenly he was tiring and by the end of round nine it was Pryor who had regained control, his punches hurting the fading challenger.
Round ten marked the end of the dream for Alexis Arguello and his fans. All his hopes of becoming a crossover sports star by winning an unprecedented fourth world title, and of reversing the most bitter and painful defeat of his long career, all of it was blown away for good by the irresistible whirlwind that was Aaron Pryor as the tireless champion launched a final ferocious attack. Sensing Alexis had little left, Pryor came forward fearlessly, disdaining defense and simply battering his man with one vicious power punch after another.
And it was then that a look of resignation settled on the handsome visage of Alexis Arguello. As he staggered about the ring, taking clean shot after clean shot, the undeniable truth, agonizing and irrevocable, finally became clear. And so after series of flush rights and lefts drove him once more to the canvas, there Alexis sat, calm and fully aware, his arms folded around his knees as he nodded and stoically allowed Steele to count him out. The painful revelation he had denied for ten long months was finally accepted as he sat and waited for the contest to officially end: Aaron Pryor was the better man and his victory in November had been hard-earned and well-deserved.
Alexis surrenders in round ten.
After, at the post-fight press conference, a tearful Alexis Arguello searched for a coherent explanation for his surrender. “I didn’t want to risk my life,” he said. “On the third knockdown, I was protecting myself. I thought about how good Pryor is and I said, ‘Jesus, I will stay here.'”
For Arguello and for his fans, this was of course not the ending they had anticipated. Yes, there had been defeats, but Alexis Arguello was a winner and a great champion, and all he needed to become immortal was just one more victory. Was it asking so much? Was it really a fight too far? In a word, yes. Because the man standing in his way was no ordinary pugilist, no ordinary warrior. Aaron Pryor proved his own greatness by blocking a legend’s path to boxing stardom. Thus the destinies of these two great champions can never be separated. Together, they are immortal.
Great images from Aaron Pryor vs Alexis Arguello II.