‘Curiosity killed the cat’ is a proverb – or, depending on your age, a 1980s pop band – evolved from an old phrase, ‘care killed the cat’, which means those that pry too keenly are likely to find trouble landing at their own door.
Lewis Richardson, a 2024 Olympic bronze medallist, could be analogised as a curious cat but his aptitude for asking questions, which he poses with thoughtfulness beyond his 27 years, is not a weakness but a remarkable and wholly unusual trait in a notoriously selfish sport. Several weeks before agreeing to being interviewed, Richardson sat opposite me at an awards ceremony and asked more questions than he answered. “I am a curious person and if someone seems interesting, I want to find out more. I hope I wasn’t rude,” he says when he’s reminded of our first exchange. Far from rude, his maturity and warmth were striking.
Inquisitive in a way that intelligent people are, which is posing questions from a desire to truly understand a person or subject, Richardson has thus far navigated his life by getting the answers he needs before taking his next step, whether that be into an interview, a professional contract, or a boxing ring. Gambling with such matters, one suspects, has never been in his nature.
The only British boxer to stand on the podium in Paris guaranteed there would be suitors aplenty once he’d made his decision to ditch the vest and start punching for pay. “I was very conscious not to jump into any offer that was made to me,” Richardson tells BoxingScene ahead of his June 7 debut. “I was careful with my decisions and very thorough with my thought processes behind it all.”
Those thought processes, which included weighing up the current landscape, delving into history while asking for a clear plan on his future, led him to Queensberry Promotions and Hall of Fame promoter Frank Warren. On Saturday, at Ipswich Town Football Club’s Portman Road Stadium, Richardson will make his debut on the undercard of the heavyweight clash between Fabio Wardley and Justis Huni. “That’s what it’s all about,” the middleweight says about the unusual debut setting. “People are saying that it must be quite surreal to be fighting in stadiums, but I had those experiences at the Games. Listen, it will be amazing, but I’m confident I’ll be able to deal with the pressures because I’ve done it before, time and time again, on the world stage already.”
Yet, sooner rather than later, the pressure will still be felt. Increasingly in the current boxing era, expectation on potential, even when in obvious infancy, is vast. Partly it’s down to the fighter’s own ability but more so it’s the modern demand for emotional, and immediate, investment from the public. ‘We have a superstar in the making,’ marketeers scream from every platform they can access, ‘you must watch them fight!’ Private education – squirreling away in the shadows, making mistakes, and learning from them on unseen undercards – no longer exists. Any boxing prospect capable of making serious money for their investors is laid bare from day one.
“That’s the game we’re in,” the young southpaw says, somewhat defiantly. “Only the strongest and only the best survive. I am happy with that. That’s the exposure I want. I’ve done a long apprenticeship in the amateurs and I’m turning over at 27 years old. I’m a mature man. I’m ready to announce myself, and I won’t say on the world stage because I feel like I’ve already done that as an amateur, but ready to announce myself to a new and more specific boxing audience. I understand your point, but pressure is privilege and I’m grateful to be in the position I’m in.”
There is a limit to his gratitude, however. Richardson won’t do anything unless he’s convinced it is beneficial to his career. He recently turned down an invitation to attend a press conference to promote the June 7 show because it would have eaten into his time in the gym. “I was due to go to that press conference [in May] at Portman Road but the invite or ask was too last minute,” he explains. “I had sparring arranged so I had to cancel [attending presser] which is a shame because it would have been great exposure, it’s another great opportunity, but… I’ve got a fight coming up. There’s no point in doing all the media, and looking great in the media, then performing shit on fight night.
“It sets an example: We want to do it the right way.”
Richardson accepts he must ‘build his brand’ but unlike most burgeoning professionals who blindly go in whichever direction they’re pointed towards, the young man from Colchester can see the bigger picture. “I enjoy speaking, I enjoy networking, I enjoy new experiences and new opportunities. But what I will say is that none of that can interfere with my training. With certain [media] outlets, I’ve had to say no to a couple of things because I’ve had sparring booked, or I’ve had training booked. At the end of the day, training is the most important thing.”
Those he has chosen to both train and guide him is another nod to his maturity. Colin McMillan, the former WBO featherweight beltholder who was once one of Britain’s brightest stars and remains one of the industry’s wisest and most likeable, pulls the strings behind the scenes and Dennis Adams, the father of his former international teammate and rising pro Billy Adams (who also fights in Ipswich), is his coach. Neither McMillan nor Adams are known to hog microphones or court undue attention, something that Richardson clearly recognises as a positive.
“A few months after the Games I was trying out a few different gyms and I thought I’d pop down Billy’s for a few days. I really liked it. I’m really happy with the team I’ve got. It’s a small team and not as high profile as the usual Olympic medallist would go for but I’m okay with that. Most importantly, I trust them. I feel like they’ve got my best interests at heart and unfortunately you can’t say that about every team out there.”
The right foundations are in place, it seems. Still, there’s an awfully long way to go and unforeseen obstacles will come. Yet his biggest fear, in this most dangerous of sports, is as simple as it is telling: “Not getting the best out of myself.
“I’ve always done that in boxing and life, just to be the best version of myself I can be. I’m still in the same sport, but I’m entering a different business, and I want to make sure I maintain that in and out of the ring I fully maximise my potential.”
Yet the biggest hurdles, in the shape of punches from an opponent with comparative talent and desire, will be for him alone to clear. Like all boxers, Richardson chooses to ignore the potential for those hurdles tripping him up in the worst way imaginable. “It can’t play on your mind because if it did, you wouldn’t be doing it,” Richardson responds when asked if getting badly hurt is something that concerns him. It’s perhaps an unfair question for someone who is yet to have a professional contest but, given his obvious grasp of both the best and worst of boxing, it seems appropriate enough to ask.
“You understand the risks but also you back yourself and you trust your team that you’re in the best possible condition,” he continues. “That’s not to say it won’t ever happen to you, but you can’t have the fear that it might because it will cripple you to the extent it doesn’t allow you to perform to the best of your ability.”
Richardson is already bracing for what’s to come by keeping his eyes open and encouraging the voices he trusts to be heard. And it’s that willingness to be educated - and to be a curious cat - which might one day prove to have been his finest asset. “I want to be involved in most processes in my career. I don’t want to pay for someone’s services and then just leave them to it. I am curious, I am inquisitive, I want to be able to learn the ropes of every aspect of the sport.”
