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Famous Stephen Richards Quotes

“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 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’d only gone and whacked his front teeth out and they’d stuck in my hand, I still have the scar to this very day. A few weeks later, I got banged up for it; he never went to the police until two weeks later. Somebody had put him wise about getting compensation from the Criminal Injuries Board. Anyway, the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) kicked it in to touch as a ‘no go’ case.”

“We were called to a pub that had our doormen on, we were told there was fighting. It was he, Big George, but he’d already left. We went in and the bouncers were smashed to bits, shirts ripped off, teeth knocked out, claret and glass everywhere. Single-handedly, George had demolished them, as if they were made out of cardboard.”

“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.”

“In a split second he went for me, he never tried to punch me though, he went to grab me so he could use his strength for some rough and tumble, but as fast as he came rushing at me, I equally as fast unleashed a furious right uppercut (if you can deliver a uppercut properly you’ll never go far wrong because when they land, your legs cave in) on to his chin and his legs went from under him like a baby deer. They say, the bigger you are, the harder you fall, that is correct! He hit the deck like a broken lift.”

“Ian Brady was born Ian Duncan Stewart on 2 January 1938 in Glasgow, Scotland, he’s responsible for a series of murders that took place from 1962 until 1965 in Greater Manchester. Brady and Myra Hindley met in 1961, she was a 19-year-old typist, he was a 23-year-old stock clerk. By 1966, both were tried at Chester Assizes for multiple murder. The trial lasted 15 days; Brady and Hindley were convicted on 6 May 1966, sentenced to life imprisonment.”

“Habitual procrastinators will readily testify to all the lost opportunities, missed deadlines, failed relationships and even monetary losses incurred just because of one nasty habit of putting things off until it is often too late.”

“How often do you find yourself saying, “In a minute”, “I’ll get to it” or “Tomorrow’s good enough” and every other possible excuse in the book? Compare it with how often you decide it’s got to be done, so let’s get on and do it! That should tell you just how serious your procrastinating problem really is.”

“In 1972, my idol Gordon Banks was seriously injured in a car accident and lost an eye. He was still England goalkeeper and the world’s Number One. I was absolutely gutted for Banksie. His career was over prematurely. He did make a comeback in America for a time, but he said he felt like people were coming to watch a bit of a circus act: ‘Roll up, roll up! The world’s only one-eyed goalkeeper.’ And so he retired from football for good. When he lost his eye, I wanted to give him one of mine, that’s how much I thought of him.”

“I will not go into detail but the screw put up a little bit of a resistance, fair play to him, but we were so desperate for the drugs in her medical bag that nothing was going to stop us getting at them. That is what happened, we got the bag of drugs from her hand. I can tell you, we were like two tramps round a bag of chips in a bin.”

“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!”

“During the depression, people fought each other for boxes of groceries and if you were lucky you might get a few shillings for fighting six rounds. When Jack Johnson was World Heavyweight Champ, back in the early 1900s, Hartlepool had a brilliant boxer called Jasper Carter. People today will never have heard of him, but almost 100 years ago he put Hartlepool on the fistic map.”

“I went after him and picked him off with a right, like a predator and was all over him like a rash! I was in to him with a right hand lead and out to inflict pain, but it wasn’t all one-sided! This guy was on a wing and a prayer when he threw a chopping right hand that whizzed past me with him on the other end of it… I was blessed, or something! I had to turn it on and step it up, because if he connected with one of those shots then I was chicken fodder! I could see that his wasted efforts were tiring him by the second. I boxed him from range and kept tying him up, I was now in to a rhythm, I swung lefts and rights, all of them smashing in to his head with an unrelenting ferocity. By now his face was covered in blood and he was about to go down when the ref stepped in and stopped it. I won; I had defeated Goliath.”

“He spouted out, ‘Richy, I’ve just been talking to a bloke from Blackpool on the phone, there’s a boxing show tomorrow night and they are desperate for a heavyweight. Will you fight?’ I retorted, ‘Are you joking. I haven’t trained for four months; I’ll be blowing after thirty seconds.’ He pleaded, ‘Howay, man. It’ll be a night out down Blackpool.”

“I excused myself to the woman I was with and made my way over to these men. I stopped to ask my friend Buller to watch my back. The thing is, people like this can’t be talked to, and so I wasn’t going to mess around with this crazed windmill and his sidekick, Don Quixote. I hit the mouthy crazed windmill with a thumping right, a left, right, smack on the chin; he fell apart and was out for the count before he hit the deck. I turned to Don Quixote and off he shot like the Disney cartoon character of Speedy Gonzales.”

“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.”