BOXING/Diary of professional middleweight/Andy Lee: So far, yeah . . . life in Detroit has been good to me. Since I won a few weeks ago a lot of people have started to get a bit excited. I went up to New York and newspaper writers were wanting to talk to me. They have become more interested now. That's new.

The boxing promoters, Top Rank, also rang, and they wanted to meet, wanted to work with me. So we said, "Yeah, why not?", and I took a trip to Las Vegas with my trainer, Emanuel Steward. We went to meet them in the Top Rank headquarters and sat down with Bob Arum, a famous promoter in the business who has a good reputation for bringing fighters along. It was very relaxed, and we decided we'd initially do two fights with them, one in August and another in September. If they like me and I like them after that, then maybe we can work for the next few years.

Emanuel has been around so long he's worked with Arum in the past, in the 1970s and 1980s. There is history there between them and that's what Emanuel likes. Other guys have been ringing, but Emanuel said we should go with Top Rank. I completely trust him with that judgment.

It was my third time in Las Vegas and it's a great place for boxing. But all the gambling and bright lights don't ring my bell at all. I don't like the slot machines. I don't like the culture. There is none. Flying in for three days and flying out. That was just right, because I wasn't too long away and was able to get back quickly into my routine again in the gym. It was important because of my fight this Thursday against Danny Stanisavljevic.

The Kronk is like no other gym anywhere in the world. It's really intense inside and the training is always brutal. As well as that, there was a new spar flying in from Chicago and that always gets people talking. You know, what's he like? Is he any good? That's just the way it is, the way it's always been, and I know a lot of people will be watching me, expecting me to perform. It's the same every day when you open those doors and walk into the gym. Every day you take that step inside, you know there is going to be competition. You always have to be ready for a tough day. I'd know what I'm stepping into, what it's going to be like.

I get up every morning at 7.30 and go running. I've a route planned around an area of the city called Rosedale Park, which is a famous neighbourhood in Detroit. All of the rich Irish and Polish built up the area years ago when Detroit was going well, before it fell on hard times. It's in the city, but feels like a suburb with all the trees and all the people milling around in the mornings on their way to work. There are parks and squirrels running all over the place. I go for about five miles, then come back and shadow box, stretch and cool down. After that it's a shower and breakfast.

Coming up to a fight I tend to watch what I eat. Cereal, fruit and a cup of tea would be it. Up until now I've been eating what I like, but in the run-in you watch it more carefully, just be professional about it. It's no big deal.

Emanuel is not very strict. In fact, he's pretty relaxed, but if you are not doing what he expects he'll let you know. I'm living in his house with other boxers, Aaron Pryde and Eir Inge Jorgsen from Norway. Emanuel has offices here as well and there's always people coming and going, making deliveries, amateurs coming in to sign papers, people doing work around the place. There's always stuff happening. It's a real boxing environment and I love it. I'm surrounded by trainers and boxers and people in the business. It's a simple lifestyle. Really just simple. I don't find it hard because I can see the greater purpose, the greater goal. I know and understand that these are small steps on a longer journey. Sometimes it's boring, but I'm prepared to do it. I must put up with it, just rest and train.

I mean, we do go out. Every Monday we go bowling and hang out, me, the pros and the amateurs. We all have a bit of fun, joke around. Other nights the movies, but mostly just rest. You can do what you want, but it's always weighing on your mind. I'm thinking in my head, "If I stay out late tomorrow what have I to do and how hard is it going to be?" It's a lifestyle, otherwise it wouldn't work out. Any ambitions in this world and you have to live them.

I talk to Emanuel a lot and we spend time together. We know each other well now. That's important. We're working, living and travelling together. I didn't know how well I would get on with him at the start. So I'm lucky there. Sometimes I make breakfast for him, sometimes he makes it for me. I feel like I'm in debt to the man. He has allowed me to do something I've always wanted to do, and now I'm here living inside his house. And he is always in demand. Everybody wants him. I know one thing, and that is I'm not going to stop working hard to repay him.

When it's time to go to the gym, I know who I'm going to see when I arrive. Every morning these three old guys are there. It seems to me they've been there since the beginning of time.

There's the man I call Mr Lee; there's Floyd Logan and there's Walter Smith. Walter is 94-years-old. He's seen them all come and go from the Kronk. If you look at all the old tapes of Tommy Hearns (Memphis-born fighter who turned professional in 1977 and in 1991 became the first boxer to win titles at six different weight divisions), they're all in them, standing there in the background. It's like they are a piece of boxing history themselves. And they're still here every day without fail. Walter is as fit as a 35-year-old. He's still driving and he talks to us all. He's been in boxing all of his life, and growing up in the same neighbourhood was a friend of Joe Lewis (former heavyweight champion of the world). These guys have so much experience and they all watch the sparring. Everybody watches the sparring.

It's a bit insane. You go in and open that door. Vroooom! - The heat just hits you right in the face. There's no oxygen in there. It's a basement gym with a low ceiling and it's packed with people. They say four rounds of sparring in the Kronk is six or eight rounds anywhere else. I believe it.

Every day is also a battle in the gym, always a test. If you don't box well today, you better box well the next or people will talk. Everyone in there has their own pride, their own ego, and some of the spar sessions are way harder than fights in the ring. I've had lots of spars that were more difficult than my fights. And all the time people are watching you, looking for weakness, feeling you out. Every day you have to perform.

This guy Bamm. He's about 20 stone and in his day he was a good super-middleweight. He was a Golden Gloves champion but wasn't managed right. He had a ridiculous number of fights. Money-mad. But he had his jaw broken in one fight and didn't have it wired properly, and now he speaks with a slurred, rough, gravel voice. If you don't box well, he'll tell you. If you have an off day, Walter will tell you. People will shout at you. "Hey, today you boxed like a punk. Hey, today you boxed like a bitch." Those sorts of things. They'd just shout them at you.

If you are a Kronk fighter you can't let anyone get on top. When Jermain Taylor (middleweight world champion) came in June, they all looked at me to put him in his place, so that's what I tried to do. We'd two spars. I'd say I was getting the better of him. They never asked me to spar with him again. You have to guard territory.

We've another saying in the gym. We say, "If there's peace in the world, there is always a war in the Kronk". Now it's Vegas on Thursday. I know my opponent. I know he drops his head, he swings, he's wild and he holds a lot. I know he rushes in. No classic. I have fought guys like him before, these wild guys. They are unpredictable. Sometimes it's easier to fight a good technical boxer. But the idea of losing never enters my head and I know it would be a disaster to lose in the next couple of years. I really believe unless something in my life distracts me from training and boxing - that's the only way I can lose.

In an interview with Johnny Watterson