Quotes About Victory

There's just no comparison between these hard men, some fight with their bare hands, some with their brains and some with weapons. Some have a sixth sense for survival, avoiding death with catlike ease. I don't include any world champ at this or that, but I do include men that would wipe the floor with any world champion at anything you wanted to throw at them.

Sometimes being a friend is enough in its own right to inspire someone on to victory.

My first sparring session with him saw him bullying me around the ring, so I thought fuck this, and when he came back in close, I threw the boxing code of conduct out of the window and hit him with a cracking right hand in to the balls! That sapped the energy out of him and that was the end of that. In the end, I could take anything he threw at me and then I'd come back with mine, which he didn't like and people would comment on how much I'd 'come on'.

I had a burning desire in me to win and started to get him on the back foot. I was looking for that one special shot when I put him down with the famous Horsley Muckspreader right hand… an unstoppable force. Incredibly, he got up and took the count and the ref waved us to continue.

The crowd started cheering as soon as they seen him, he was one of them, a local lad from Lancashire. In the first round, I tried to put him away but my punches had nothing in them, I might as well as been hitting thin air. It was then that I knew I had to really dig deep if I wanted to hear the final bell; I threw a clever little corkscrew right. A great shot, but ineffective unless it hits with some vigour, which it didn't!

The crowd were totally behind him and it spurred him on, I was right in the heat of battle. There was only one to win; I dug deep and summoned up every bit of strength, I had in me to put in to one punch to see if I could hit the jackpot. I drew him to the ropes and put everything in to a cracking right uppercut and just missed, bastard!

To secure victory, first you have to dare to do so.

The prize is as big as the fight in you to get it.

What you fight hard for never let go of easily!

When you win big, that is the time your true character will show.

What you have suffered after you have healed will make perfect sense. You will be able to smile at how you overcome the tears of pain.

I moved in distance and as the fight unfolded, I landed a big, destructive, hard-hitting right hand (The Muckspreader) smack on the button and he collapsed in a (muck) heap on the deck, out for the count. His mates looked at me and never said a word. The big fella was asleep and wasn't moving… I had flattened him.

I made another comeback in the sweet science of boxing, and nobody say I've had more comebacks than Frank Sinatra… 'cos he's dead.

Call Malcolm Price (Pricey) a 'chancer' and you would be wrong. Pricey has, with premeditated determination, won his battles and hung his gloves up; his story is no less dramatic or tantalising than that of his Welsh ancestors.

If words were actions then we would all be winners!

When you accept you are a winner, that is when you will triumph.

This was a new buzz, better than anything I'd tried before. For the first time, I could fight back at others. I'd even fight with a parked car! I was totally kyboshed on these drugs, I didn't care how many boys were standing outside the pub, I'd run over and fight the lot of them. Even though I came off second best, in my mind, I still walked away a winner. I showed them I wasn't a little shit-bag that always got battered, not when I had the drugs in me.

Whatever hand life has dealt you, seeing it positively will always make it a winning one!

Focus only on your successes and you will never know failure...

Usually with a couple of these shots the word 'Goodnight' would show up on their forehead, but he was still on his feet, but backed up and then I battered him with a flurry of combinations: right, left, right, right, right and a sweet right hand and he went down. For good measure, I booted him in the head and turned around and walked fast in to the pub away from the scene.

After my victory at the Warriors 1, the self-proclaimed and well named Monarch of the Underworld, Dave Courtney, came up to me and commended me when he said, 'Richy, you can hit, I'm fucking glad you're not hitting me.' The way Dave said it and the expression on his face made me laugh.

He was very cock sure of himself. He came at me and threw a big slow right, but he was so slow that he had telegraphed it to me and I'm ready for it and block it. I put a couple of big jabs on him and he went down like the Titanic, maybe quicker.

At first, we both miss a few sharp bursts of wild punches and then, BANG! I catch him with a full swing left hook and he goes down like a ferret down a hole after a rabbit. When that punch landed, I broke my hand, again, and simultaneously broke his jaw. I wonder if that is an entry into the Guinness Book of records?

Sometimes a choppy wave would swamp me, and after I rose gasping I would vomit the foul-tasting water, wiping the sea from my eyes and nostrils. Then I regained my posture to do battle, again with the Solent.