Of course he didn't listen to me. For James, one world title was enough. He had proved what he needed to prove. To himself and anyone who doubted him. And two years later, he retired. When I saw him next in London, seven years later, me as a champion again, him as broadcaster, he was barefoot on a bicycle with a flat tire, still living each day like his last. When I heard he died age 45 of a heart attack, I wasn't surprised. I was just sad. People always think of us as rivals but he was among the very few I liked and even fewer that I respected. He remains the only person I envied.
I'm humble because I know
What it feels like to be at the bottom
And have nobody, no friends, no nothing,
Nobody believing in me, now look at me.
I was down on the ground with nobody,
Some in my town said my sound was a hobby
Now that I'm crowned they're astounded and howling,
They try and come around that now I'm somebody.