Vinny Pazienza, the Pazmanian Devil, lived like every day might be his last. Even before the accident, his life was a blur of sweat, gold chains, and half-healed bruises. Providence was his ring, not just the arena—the gyms, the backroom poker tables, the strip clubs heavy with smoke and neon light. He was reckless and magnetic, the kind of man who didn’t just chase chaos—he became it.