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Dez Bryant: ‘My Life Was S*** All the Way to College’



I have to be honest, when Boone posted this on how Dez was going to be featured in Rolling Stone, I thought, “oh, hmm I guess that’s cool … doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, I guess.”

It’s a big deal.

Consider the second paragraph from the Dez cover story.

He’s retained Tom Condon, the premier agent in football, and signed with Jay Z’s Roc Nation Sports to handle his contract talks with the Cowboys and broker his marketing deals; and he can’t leave his house in suburban Dallas without being swarmed by selfie-seeking fans imploring him to please remain a Cowboy.

Anywhere Bryant goes, they come from all directions, many or most of them female. Whatever they’re drawn by, it’s deeper than sex, though he’s drop-dead-Denzel and he knows it. What they want, besides his baby, is to mother him, to make sure no one inflicts further harm on a man raised hip-deep in heartbreak. How do they know he’s suffered? The way women have always known, whether it was Sam Cooke or Richard Pryor or Marvin Gaye who stood before them: They know a battered star-child when they see one.

Have. Mercy. That is some writing.

There’s more.

Now, most contract standoffs between men who’ve made millions aren’t very interesting to those who haven’t. But this fight was the exception in that it was never about dollars. From the beginning of his tenure in silver-and-blue, Bryant had been typecast as a stock persona: the Crazy Motherf****** whose mind-blowing gifts front a genius for self-destruction.

Dez talks about being from nothing and being OK with going back there. It details his upbringing in a way I’ve never read anywhere before. His dad made his mom a mom when she was 14. You knew that. What you didn’t probably know was that his dad’s ex was his mom’s mom.

The whole thing is downright incredible. The writing, Dez, the fact that he made it.

“Crackheads in my house, potato chips and peanut butter for dinner — my life was s*** all the way to college.”

Go read the whole thing. Now.

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