Angielski
Before there was Bob Probert, Tie Domi, or Stu Grimson, there was Dave Schultz. The original enforcer changed the face of the NHL for decades to come, and helped bring the Philadephia Flyers their first Stanley Cup in franchise history, by scaring opponents into submission. His name was known and feared around the league - and still is. Schultz still draws long lines for his autograph. That''s a long way to have come for a kid who grew up on a farm with no indoor plumbing, a gentle kid who hated fighting. He calls himself a ''chicken shit,'' and admits he got his brother to fight for him until he was twenty. But none of us leaves the past behind entirely. When the bright lights dimmed and the cheers went quiet, Schultz was left to grapple with the scale of all he''d lost. The money dwindled. Friendships faded. The lifeline of his marriage slipped from his hands. Finally, all that was left was the echo of fame, the booze, and the demons that shaped him into the fearsome fighter he became. Still, not even haunted fighters like Schultz give up, and they never flinch - no matter how relentlessly life hammers away at them. Unafraid to look his demons in the eye, Schultz knew to keep swinging in the hope of some kind of victory. Maybe not the kind that brings thousands of cheering fans to their feet, but something deeper, braver, and more lasting. Hammered takes readers to the places some of those demons come from, and reveals challenges no one has ever suspected Schultz has fought through. It does not shy away from his regrets. But it also conjures the epic victories that made his name a synonym for toughness and intimidation, and makes clear that while he was down, the big guy was never out.
