It was 4 p.m when Floyd Patterson got back to the camp, and the shadows were falling on the clubhouse, and on the tennis court routed by weeds, and on the big white house on front of which not a single automobile was parked. All was deserted and quiet ; it was a loser's camp.
from
The Loser
Gay Talese
Esquire magazine
March 1964
reblogged
via thestacks.deadspin.com
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