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.

I've tasted the bitter beatings.

When I was 11 my school held a sports day near Crystal Palace. We were told we were going to play a rugby match. The ball was eventually passed to me and I was obviously expected to run with it. I took one look at all these players charging towards me, placed the ball on the ground and walked off the pitch.

Fortunately, I was technically skilled, so I didn't have to bludgeon people, I didn't have to batter them.

To be accused of ignoring my roots is pig ignorant.

You play football, rugby, tennis. You do not play boxing. When a sportsperson is in a game, when it gets too much, you quit. But in boxing you can't quit. You have to be taken out.

It's the only thing that allowed me to win so many championship fights and allowed me to put up with the bigotry of the media, the keyboard warriors, the critics. I've endured it all because, spiritually, I am buoyant, alive.

Michael Watson is a part of me. It's in my head, it's in my grain. There are scars within me. Therefore, those scars are what allows me to steer and protect other fighters.

Boxing is a mug's game.

I am not a meathead.

I'm a gentle, considerate, giving man.

My mother imparted on me that I must be a good custodian of my father's name and that is what I ask of my children. One should conduct themselves in the correct manner, respect one's elders and do the right thing.

For lunch I like corned beef, white rice and fried onions, which I've eaten for as long as I can remember. My father used to make it; now, no one does it like me.

The feeling between two fighters is profound. We go places where normal people don't go. You smell a man's blood, it smells like rust. You get into a clench, you feel his strength, you feel his desperation, he feels yours. You're sharing this.

In accordance to the way that Benn speaks, he is not educated. Sure, he's educated to a certain extent, but under different circumstances he would be a bouncer on some door in the West End and he'd have three kids from three different women... I am a superior person to that. I have finer points.

I was sensitive, I was emotionally intelligent.

Obsession is a synonym for magic. Magic is a synonym for genius. It's a knack. It's an aptitude.

I am always fully in tune with the interviewer, who is usually trying to make me look silly. My objective is quite the opposite during an interview: I never use my wit or my intellect to make the interviewer look silly.

My objective as a mentor, as a father, as a manager and as a former participant of the great game of boxing is to protect mine, but also the opponent. Especially if I can see things which I have experienced before.

The people who have done it - I have been in there - a lot of people love boxing but they have not actually been in there, and haven't tasted the bitterness of a beating.

I was a speed freak once. I had an Aston Martin when I first made it big and I used to take it to its limits. I once drove from Lewes to London in 45 minutes - mad.

One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter.

I failed my HGV licence three times.

At 19, I decided to turn professional and accepted my first fight for $250 at the Atlantis Hotel, Atlantic City, on October 3 1985. It set up my whole career and life.

I've prospered because of my father. I know I'll never be his equal, but I've prospered because I've honoured my parents.

My father, who was illiterate, smoothed iron for Ford Dagenham and we'd get up at 5;30 A.M. to give him a jump-start. My mother was a nurse and part of the Windrush generation. Growing up in east London, we were financially poor, but rich in hope and dignity, and we were happy.

I moved to New York aged 16, and worked part-time in a Korean store in South Bronx selling groceries, bread and confectionery. I earned $10 and it was painful because I didn't want to be there. I also worked in Debenhams as a kid, and a Wimpy in Brighton when I was 20.