THE LEGEND OF CHRISTY MARTIN AND A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
It’s late November in a secluded neighborhood. Darkness enshrouds a ranch-style house set among thick palm trees that further obscure the home. The roaring wind muffles all sound. A trained fighter named Christy Martin sits on the edge of her bed, preparing to go out jogging. Then she looks up.
Swish! The razor-sharp, 9-inch-long blade of a hunting knife plunges into her upper body. Then comes a second stab. And a third. For Martin, it’s pain, disbelief, tissue damage and blood-soaked clothes.
The attacker’s next slash hits her left breast. Now it’s personal. Martin leans back and instinctively kicks at him, but that just gives him another target. He seizes the opportunity and slashes her lower leg.
They wrestle to the ground, and he
