ONE of the great, if still admittedly trivial, mysteries in boxing concerns how some boxers, despite having committed their life to the sport and entered its every room, are unable to then articulate the experience when asked, in retirement, to do so, usually for pay. This can be in either the form of punditry or, in the case of the more famous ones, an autobiography with zero artistic merit.
Whichever it is, invariably the same problem will arise. Details will be forgotten and everything they once did instinctively will be hard to put in to words when only words are required. That is the nature of
