The Monster rode through this game for 17 years, longer than most in that first class. His body betrayed him well before his heart let him quit.
He was so full of stories by the end, he decided to write a book. Kevin could never sit still long enough to type, but Elizabeth Randleman could paint her husband’s words the way they deserved to be painted, so together they lounged for hours under the night sky in their backyard, Kevin telling his tales – tales of becoming UFC heavyweight champion, tales of becoming a Pride Fighting icon – Elizabeth copying notes shorthand into her blue binder, then carrying it inside to unload into something digestible. The yard was Kevin’s escape, more tropical than it had any right to be in the middle of the Nevada desert, and those nights became cathartic, the two of them reminiscing about the old days, the days of spectacle and pageantry, of backstage brawls and shadow warriors from distant lands reigning as kings.
"People don’t know now," says Phil Baroni, a friend and teammate who joined Kevin on many of his travels. "Young fighters, they get to watch Embedded, they get to watch HBO 24/7. I used to only get this magazine called Full Contact Fighter, and I would read about Kevin Randleman fighting in Brazil with no weight classes. Just going down there and fighting. It was a way different era. It was the wild, wild west into the unknown. There was no videos, no nothing. I’m getting on a plane and I’m going to fucking Japan right now and I’m going to fight some dude from fucking Holland and everyone is bowing to me and I have no idea what the fuck I’m getting myself into. It was just crazy. We could die over there. It was way different. It was way scarier."
LINK: In the Shadow of The Monster
