I have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to copy Lucas Matthysse recently - in training, alone, on the streets, in the supermarket - the way he holds his guard, crouches, the way he punches. I want a rat's tail. Some boxers have qualities which make them appealing as personalities to the public at large, and some appeal to the afficionados before they become well known - this process has always fascinated me and was a huge reason why I wrote my books Fights structured around individual boxers and their personas. It is often said it is their backstories which captivate people, but I'm not sure it's that because they are often very similar. There's just something authentic about a human being who is willing to dedicate their lives to a sport that only financially rewards 1% of it's participants, and tends to damage the health of 100% of it's participants. Headaches, dementia, blindness, speech slurring, failing cognitive abilities await. Yet they plug on, making themselves into monstrous machines, human weapons. Lucas Matthysse exemplifies these characteristics - he is quiet as a man, taciturn, even dour, but as a fighter, he is a cannibal. Relentless Argentinian madness, he's knocked out 32 of the 33 men he's beaten. And when he was robbed in decisions against home fighters, he just came back, shrugged it off, and destroyed the next men he faced. He punches as hard as any fighter I can remember, with both hands, it is awful to watch him hit people, in the most exciting of ways and he is single handedly inspiring me to revisit some of my work on boxers, rejig it, and write some more.