I would like people to help me support the Chain of Hope which is a charity that is close to my heart who offer life save operations for children in need.

Technically, my fight with Korobov should have been for the full world title, not the interim.

I've been working a lot on my jab.

That's the ultimate goal for any fighter, to fight in those big casinos, on that strip in Las Vegas, Madison Square Garden, New York - all those iconic venues.

Just because you are getting hurt doesn't mean you can't come back and win.

The corner is there to help you clean your cuts up and put your Vaseline on, not to throw in the towel.

If the going gets tough, you stay in there and take your beating like a man. That's what we sign up for, and that's all I meant when I said my corner don't throw in towels.

I have trained on and off with Floyd and his father for many years now and I've learned a lot. His work ethic is second to none and it's great being around him and the 'Money Team.'

I'm going to take whatever route I can take to win a world title.

When you are fighting a man who is over a stone heavier than you, you feel it. You feel it in the punches and in the clinches.

You learn from every bout.

If you're throwing punches or exerting energy but you're not breathing, you're holding your breath. That actually saps your strength, it saps your stamina.

To be able to perform at a high level, to be able to do things that no other fighter can do, you have to practice it. And the only way you can practice is by sparring, by fighting another man.

You can hit the bags, the pads, and you can run and do your fitness and your weights as much as you want, but if you don't spar you just don't have that true experience, that true knowledge of how to beat a man in one-on-one combat.

There's a very big difference between being fit and being fight fit. Sparring is the only way to get fight fit. It's a very important part of boxing and something that I do as regularly as possible.

What I learned from my father is that to win is number one, but you've also got to have a flavour.

Some people call me arrogant and boo me but I love it, because at least they're buying tickets. Meanwhile, other people are thinking, 'wow, this guy's different, I'll come and see him again.'

Boxing is an entertainment business.

I went to Brighton College, Shoreham College for one year, then to Spring Valley High School in Las Vegas for a couple of years.

In England I played everything - swimming, athletics, football, rugby, badminton, cricket - all of that stuff. I was in the first teams for all the sports at Brighton, played on the wing in rugby, and ran 100m, 200m, 400m, and did long jump and even the javelin at one point. In the States I did a bit of track, but mainly I was there for the boxing.

Outside boxing, I did well in cross country competitions and I won a schoolboys' doubles badminton tournament at once. I was pleased because it was a hobby to me.

I always stayed on top of my schoolwork. I did it because I had to and because I had a strict father. He made sure I did my homework and told me not to mess around in class.

I've always been told that if you spar with another man, you try and emulate what a real fight is going to be like. So you go hard. It's how I've always been.

My father is my inspiration.

Froch is like a train who just comes forward but Groves will move about, fake and feign and his good footwork is a big part of his game.

There is nobody that I wouldn't fight.

Any fighter who is serious about boxing wants to be in those big fights, fighting the best fighters, with the whole country watching and talking about it.

I was nervous my first fight, my heart was pumping at 1,000 beats per second.

If you're fighting for any other reason than wanting to be the best in the sport, then you're not going to make it.

I'm fighting because I want to be the best and I want to beat the best and I want to make a name for myself. I'm not fighting because I want to live comfortably for the rest of my life.

It's the referee's job to stop the fight. I'm in there to win, defend myself, and further my career.

I have seen the consequences of what can happen in boxing.

I have an amazing fan base. I also have an amazing amount of haters: believe who don't believe, people who don't want me to succeed. I don't really mind having those people around. If anything it's actually a good thing for me because it keeps me in the gym, keeps me working hard - knowing there are people out there who don't want me to succeed.

No man can honestly sit there and say he doesn't care about what people think, doesn't care if he's got the support of the British public or British fans.

The truth is I've trained myself for much of my career.

For my training camp against George Groves my main sparring partner was a 6ft 7inch cruiserweight who fought nothing like George. It was just wrong. Wrong preparation. I was as fit as could be, but strategically I didn't prepare right.

The only time I've ever been knocked out in my entire life was in a rugby game when I was about 13. I used to play on the wing. The opposing winger has the ball in his hand and he's running full speed at me. I go down to tackle him and he jumps up and his knee hits my temple.

Not having a trainer is basically just giving an edge to my opponent, and I'm not willing to do that anymore.

It's definitely hard to live up to expectation. Especially early in my career, everyone was expecting so much from me, everyone was comparing me to my father. They didn't understand that they're comparing me to a world champion, which is very unfair as a novice.

There was always a lot of pressure - I fought on Channel 5 in my first fight and got two million views - but luckily I'm the kind of person who thrives under pressure. I use it to fuel my performances and training, knowing that all eyes are on me and that there's a lot to live up to. It made me harder, tougher and more determined.

My dad is a showman, he likes to be in the centre of everything.

I don't fear no man. I've had everything done to me.

Was there any danger I could have gone down a different path were it not for boxing? Of course.

After a two-hour session in the gym, you can't then go out and be up for looking for trouble, you just want to eat and sleep.

Fear isn't in my vocabulary in terms of how I approach a fight.

From a young age, I was told boxing was not a career option. My dad told me there were other ways to make a living in sport without taking punches to the head. But eventually, curiosity got the better of me. I needed to find out what the big deal was.

As an amateur, I trained in some real hard schools of knocks. In Cuba, they would have judges on three sides of the ring just for sparring sessions. They train under exactly the same conditions as they fight, and it was a great experience.

I've got royal blood coursing through my veins and if the boxing bug is 'something I've inherited through the family bloodline, I'm proud of my genes.

I started to understand how important it was for me to make my own name pretty early on after years of noticing people treating me a certain way because of who my dad was. Some people wanted to be friends, others wanted to test me because I was Chris Eubank's son - inside schools, outside of school, on the streets.

I've never wanted to be your average Joe. I've always wanted to stand out from the crowd - to be someone looked at and admired, and scrutinised. I'd much rather be scrutinised or criticised than have no one look at me at all.