Sports Illustrated - USA (2020-02)

FEBRUARY 2020 25

battle to conquer

Earth’s highest

peaks. Culminating

with Edmund

Hillary and Tenzing

Norgay’s summit

of Everest in 1953,

The World tells the

story that led to

that achievement.

Like if Jon

Krakauer’s Into

Thin Air met Laura

Hillenbrand’s

Unbroken, i t ’s

an inviting and

engrossing read.

FIGHT CAMP:

WILDER–FURY II

Jan. 25, 3:30 p.m. E T, FOX

In advance of the

long-awaited

heavyweight

rematch between

Deontay Wilder

(near right)

WATCH

THE WORLD

BENE ATH

THEIR FEET

By Scot t Ellswor th,

out Feb. 18

Against the

backdrop of World

War II, dozens of

explorers waged a

READ

14 minutes longer than Colts-Jags.
Why is this story being told again?
The series (which is directed by Geno
McDermott and lists SI writer L. Jon
Wertheim as an executive producer)
covers how Hernandez, then a star
23-year-old tight end for the Patriots
with a $41 million contract, was
charged with first-degree murder in
June 2013 after the shooting death
of an acquaintance, Odin Lloyd. A
cascade of circumstantial evidence in
the days following the charge made
Hernandez look not only guilty but also
sloppy, and soon enough he had been
credibly accused of involvement in an
unsolved 2012 double murder. In 2015
Hernandez was convicted of Lloyd’s
murder and sentenced to life in prison.
Two years later, and just five days after
being acquitted of the ’12 murders,
Hernandez hanged himself in his cell at
Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center
in Lancaster, Mass.
Back then, the public was naturally
fascinated with his case, which re-
raised a number of age-old questions
about the corrupting power of athletic
gifts and celebrity. And as America

learned more about

Hernandez’s past—the

beatings at the hands of

his father; molestation at

age six; concealed affairs

with men throughout

his life; his residing

in a near-constant

state of intoxication; a

hyper-advanced case of

CTE—the inexorably hazy

picture that emerged was

no longer that of an aspiring crime

boss but of a wounded and paranoid

young man who turned to violence

because of poor impulse control, and

because it was the tool closest at hand.

Which returns us to the question of

why this series exists. The details about

Hernandez’s life which emerged after

his death made his crimes easier, not

harder, to comprehend. And more to

the point, most of that surfaced by way

of a Boston Globe Spotlight investigation

and accompanying podcast in 2018,

which interviews a wider range of

subjects than Killer Inside does. While

the series makes effective and haunting

use of Hernandez’s prison phone

calls with friends and

family, it suffers from a

distracting overreliance

on voices (an ex-

Patriot who didn’t

play with Hernandez,

childhood friends,

a once-closeted ex-

NFLer) who can only

speculate about his

motivations and inner

torment. And the series’ gestures

at blaming big-time college and pro

football feel perfunctory. (One subject’s

contention that the Patriots should

have reported Hernandez’s fear for his

life to law enforcement is so regressive

it’s hard to know where to start.)

Killer Inside’s shortcomings are

not unique but rather those of much

of the true-crime entertainment

produced recently. Homicide is

tragic. When fame is involved, it can

be intriguing. But it is not always

profound. The world is full of new

and uplifting stories waiting to be

told. Market trends shouldn’t compel

the dredging up of this tired and

dismal one. —Jack Dickey

and Tyson Fury,

scheduled for

Feb. 22 in Las

Vegas, Fox Sports

and ESPN—jointly

presenting the

fight—will both

air this four-part

behind-the-scenes

series. (Episodes

will premiere

on FOX and be

replayed on ESPN

channels.) Recall

the split draw that

launched 1,000

takes, and see

how each camp is

preparing. Winner

takes the WBC

title—for now. A

third fight between

them is tentatively

scheduled for later

in the year.