Pryce Taylor’s journey to boxing has been a rollercoaster — fitting, since it started at Six Flags. The Brooklynite recounts Superman’s measurements in the queue of a ride themed after his favorite superhero back in middle school. Weighing 225 pounds at the time, “I could be as strong as Superman,” he recalled in thinking about the day his scale said the same years later.
These days, Taylor stands at around 270 at age 27, a true heavyweight, and so far, nobody has found his kryptonite: His record sits at a young, but perfect, 4-0, fresh off a decision victory this past Saturday as his résumé rapidly grows after turning pro just last winter.
Taylor’s first love was basketball, first stepping onto the hardwood in the first grade while playing for a church league. Back then, he was clueless, like most other 6- and 7-year-olds are. But Taylor was a fast learner and quickly developed into a legitimate player by middle school. And being the strongest kid on the court didn’t hurt.
Moving to Atlanta during high school helped Taylor develop his game, but severed his connection to Brooklyn and bogged down his grades. He remained on the hardwood throughout his youth, ironically discouraged from playing football due to his father’s concern about the dangers of the contact sport. It’s hard to think of 6’4” as small, but Taylor was forced to develop guard skills due to his height, despite his strength and propensity under the basket.
“Basketball honestly didn’t work out for me because the skills that I needed to be a point guard, I didn’t really have and develop,” Taylor said. “It’s hard for people to be like ‘Oh, we can work on him’ if they don’t think you got it. They don’t know what you have been through. I feel like I could have been a great point guard if someone just would have put me through the ropes and teach me how to do it.”
At age 20, Taylor’s hoop dreams fell through and he switched to boxing. He took to it like fish to water. Back in Brooklyn, he began training in the Cops & Kids Boxing Club, a gym that would come to be known for producing more NYPD officers than pugilists. (The center started as a crime prevention program to keep kids out of gangs, rather than a training ground for future world champs.) It was free and accessible to Taylor as he broke into a sport requiring overhead costs without the paychecks to match.
Cops & Kids Boxing founder Pat Russo said the heavyweight was never one to take a handout, recalling a time when he needed travel cash to get to some amateur tournaments to make a name for himself.
“He came to me and said, ‘Pat, I’m not asking you for money. Just give me a job for the summer [so] I can make enough money so I could pay for my own travel; I don’t want a freebie, I want to work for it,’” Russo said. “And he did. Every time he had to travel, he would say, ‘Pat, you got anything for me?’ He was like an African-American Rocky [Balboa], cutting meat and making money to travel [and] pursue his career.”
Despite his hard work in the ring, gym, and cutting room, Taylor narrowly missed competing in the Tokyo Olympics in what would be his “springboard” to the professional ranks. By then, he had developed into a blue chipper in the amateur ranks, distinguished from the pros by headgear, shorter fights, and the absence of a paycheck. Today, he’s only in the formative stages of his professional career, despite being seven years older than fellow Brooklyn heavyweight Mike Tyson when he won his first world title. He continues to get off the canvas of life and now can finally call himself a professional athlete.
His goals inside the ring are simple: There’s never been an undisputed heavyweight champion in the era of four separate world titles. That changes this Saturday, May 18, when Tyson Fury and Oleksandr Usyk fight for all the belts, and Taylor intends to be up there one day.
As Taylor rises through the ranks, he’s also developing his persona outside of the ring. With a laugh, he wavers between two catchphrases: “The Pryce is right” and “Taylor-made.” But he’s clear about the type of boxer he wants to be: The People’s Champion, just like Muhammad Ali.
“I want people to fear me, but love me at the same time outside the ring,” he said.
Tandy Lau is a Report for America corps member who writes about public safety for the Amsterdam News. Your donation to match our RFA grant helps keep him writing stories like this one; please consider making a tax-deductible gift of any amount today by visiting https://bit.ly/amnews1.