At first I didn’t give a damn to go down in history. I wanted to win. But the more I won, the more I thought about leaving something behind. Yes, it's as important as hell to me. I want to leave something that people will remember me by. Of course, a lot of boxers want to do that. But it's not easy. Take Larry Holmes, he was the big man after Muhammad Ali, he wanted to emulate him, but for some reason the public didn’t take him like they did to Ali. I think people won’t fully understand what I contributed to the sport for years.

If the media didn't know I played chess, there'd be no angle on me at all.

Patience is a part of boxing. After I had missed out on the Olympic gold medal in 1984, a lot of people tried to talk me into turning professional quickly to make money. They told me that the next Olympics in Seoul would be boycotted again, that I was wasting my life, blah blah. But I still had unfinished business. I wanted the gold medal, and I got it in ‘88. Only then was I ready to turn professional.

People know I was the last true champion.

The fight will last as long as I allow it to last.

A boxer should quit at the top, as they say. But that’s complicated. There are plenty of people in boxing who make money out off you. And they tell you that you’ve still got it, that it’s still getting better.

The danger of a closed mind is that it can also leave good things like love, compassion and reason on its outside.