If Naseem Hamed is to fulfil his dream of "conquering America", it seems charm will not be among his chosen weapons. Within hours of stepping off his plane he had subjected Wayne McCullough to a tasteless tirade of abuse with the apparent intention of turning Saturday's World Boxing Organisation featherweight title fight in Atlantic City into a grudge match.
When Mike Tyson spoke of his desire to drive an opponent's nose into his brain the sporting world was appalled. Here, Hamed spoke of his desire to "rip certain guys apart" and added, not once but repeatedly, "in this fight Wayne McCullough will get seriously hurt".
He railed against sections of the British press for being critical of his performances, refused to answer an innocuous question from one American journalist he said was repetitive, and chose to reduce his opening press conference to a slanging match with the veteran Sun correspondent Colin Hart, a journalist of worldwide repute.
Earlier McCullough, said: "Hamed treats a fighter and a fight unprofessionally. I think he disrespects everybody. He tries to make a fool of a fighter and just doesn't have manners. I think I've got under his skin a bit. I know what he does with his antics and he's not going to get to me. When the fight is over I will shake his hand."
McCullough's old-school politeness may seem quaint to some and is a long way from the hype which Hamed seems to believe is necessary to sell tickets. But on this same bill Liverpool's Richie Wenton fights Marco Antonio Barrera for the WBO super-bantamweight crown.
Four years ago Wenton fought Bradley Stone, who suffered brain injuries and died. Wenton also chooses to shake a man's hand rather than describe the hurt he will inflict.
Yesterday, just before Hamed publicly worked out and then slagged off the media for failing to support British fighters, Wenton and his trainer were ordered to leave "his" gymnasium and go and do their training elsewhere.
Perhaps Hamed should have taken a moment instead to speak to Wenton about the agonies he went through after Stone's death; how he turned his back on his next opponent, unable to confront the demons in his mind.
Instead Hamed bragged: "I'm going to smash Wayne McCullough to bits. And when you see him smashed to bits, you're going to see the same thing I'd have done to Barry McGuigan, his friend and idol. McCullogh's going to get seriously hurt. I'm telling you now it could be his last fight."
Surrounded by friends and fighters from his Sheffield gym, Hamed sat alongside the promoter Frank Warren and his long-time trainer Brendan Ingle who, two weeks ago, was condemned by the fighter in a television interview as a "Judas" for daring to criticise him in a book. With tickets to sell the rift seems forgotten.
Away from boxing Hamed can be amusing company. He claims to have been changed by marriage and by the recent birth of his son. He has enjoyed "the best year of my life. Forget your world titles, your achievements, your money, your cars. When you watch your son being born, your creation, and you're married and stable . . . ". His voice drifted away.
Moments later he was saying: "In Arabic, Naseem means a gentle breeze. But inside the guy's a monster. Once I'm in there I'm planning to rip these guys apart."
Yet again he concluded: "In the fight he will get seriously hurt." Hamed may be right, but would his softer, gentler alter-ego be able to cope? Perhaps Wenton could offer some clues.
Naseem Hamed's mentor Brendan Ingle was the big noise in Atlantic City yesterday. Ingle invested $100 in hiring a megaphone to boost ticket sales for Hamed's featherweight title defence against Wayne McCullough.
To date, only 5,000 of the 15,000 seats have been sold and Ingle has been patrolling the Boardwalk to try and sell the fight to the punters wandering from casino to casino.
The people in town to play the slots and black jack tables looked somewhat bewildered.