If the fight game loves redemption stories of those who found themselves through punches, then Brent Primus’s tale is just the thing. Primus’s road to the Garden started in a weed patch, and made its way across dung heaps and manicured lawns — there wasn’t any glory in it, but there were white picket fences. There was money and blood and smoke. There was a teenager who was destined for the four walls and three squares a day, before the martial arts forked his road.
“Jiu-jitsu definitely saved me,” Primus says, reflecting on the turning point.