"At that stage, I was hanging out with the wrong crowd and doing a lot of the wrong things," says David. "But along with the loving and caring from my parents, boxing kind of separated me from all the trouble."

Two years later David won the New Zealand junior title at heavyweight even though he was only a middleweight. There were no opponents to fight at middleweight so he had four hours to eat and try and put on some weight to qualify for a heavyweight bout. "My trainer gave me his tool box from his car and I put it inside my jacket and I just qualified by something like 0.05 kilo. I fought the guy and beat him, on a first-round knockout." The next year David won the Senior title - the youngest ever to do so. He turned 16 the next day.

With his sharp eye, quick reflexes and suprising speed, David had excelled at most other sports, particularly rugby. "I'm not bragging about it, but I used to be devastating on the field," he says, "I played second five eight and when the team was in trouble on our 22 metre line, when the only choice for the guy was to kick, I didn't like it, I'd say 'Don't kick the ball,' and because the guys were scared of me. they would let me have the ball and I'd run it. I used to have the mentality that I was an individual, that I was playing for myself on the team and hated losing." David was selected to play in the trials for the New Zealand secondary schools team. He also played rugby league out of season and represented his school at hockey and cricket.

In 1989 at age 16 David became the Australasian Champion. In 1990 he became a gold medallist in the 5 Nations Championships in Tahiti. In 1991 he won a bronze meal at the World Cup and he has won 3 Senior New Zealand Titles. David was the Oceania Champion from 1990 to 1992. David's amateur record stands at 84 fights, 75 wins, with 60 wins coming by way of the big 'KO'.

In 1992 aged 19, David represented New Zealand at the Barcelona Olympics. Despite his sparse international experience, David scored two knockouts over favoured European fighters before the vastly experienced Izonritei decisioned him in the semi-final. The bronze made David the first Polynesian to capture an Olympic medal in any sport. An offer to turn professional followed. "I always envisioned getting another Marciano" says Kevin Barry, the maker of champions. "And when I saw David I thought; 'He's the guy'."

David displayed his awesome power in his pro debut in 1992. Ron Hume was on the receiving end of a left hook so quick and devastating it shattered his ankle. His second opponent made it through the fight without any broken bones, but didn't survive the first round.

David's finest moment came during HBO's 'Night of the Young Heavyweights' on March 15, 1996. He brutalised the favourite John Ruiz (who had never been off his feet) in 19 seconds to win the WBC international heavyweight title.

After a tune up first round knockout in July, David went on to defend his new title against the undefeated Darroll Wilson. Wilson was ranked second in the world by the IBF. Like Ruiz he had never been down and in his last fight had knocked out Shannon Briggs, a fighter unbeaten in 25 fights. This fight was to show who was the best young prospect. David captured the "Young Heavyweights Tournament" championship with a perfect left hook to Wilson's jaw putting him to out cold for over two minutes.

David's physique and come-forward, two-fisted style drew instant and inevitable comparisons with Tyson. Last September Tua's services were requested to help Holyfield prepare for Tyson. "David went terrific," Kevin Barry enthuses. "He sure held his own. They gave each other hell down there, but David helped out tremendously. They had some pretty good wars and the best thing was that he learned he could go up to a different level and that he was ready for anybody up there."

David likes watching videos of boxers in all weight divisions and sees his style as more like Rocky Marciano's or Joe Frazier's than Mike Tyson's. He used a Frazier touch in the fight with Wilson, throwing 'little' punches to pave the way for the big left hook. "You're just finding your range, moving your hands and then - POW!" David says.

David took some full-blooded rights square on the jaw in the Izonritei fight and carried them all without even blinking. According to Duva he has been hit even harder in sparring. "Evander and Golata hit him on the chin and he can take it alright" says Duva. "But I'm getting him to move his head and body. I put him at different angles, so that he doesn't have to take the punches. He takes the impact off them and he's getting to do that very well."

Duva makes the point that no one yet has managed to out-muscle David, not even Golata. "I'd put David in with the big tall guys weighing 280lbs," says Duva, "They'd try to push him around, but David would push right back. He was too strong".

Proud to be both a Samoan and a New Zealander, David has not lost sight of his roots. He remembers the poverty his family had to endure in Mangere when his father, Tuavale, lost his job and they couldn't afford meat. Nor has he forgotten preparing for the Olympics running up One Tree Hill in shoes which had more holes than soles. Or the battered old boxing bag, held together by sticking tape, which hung limply from the rafters of their old state-house garage.

Most of all, though, he remembers his parents, his three brothers and four sisters, and the friends who stood by him when he had nothing but his self belief and integrity, nurtured by his Christian beliefs, to sustain him. These are what he treasures more than a growing bank account, though he was proud to buy his family a two-storied home of their own, right in the heart of his beloved Mangere with its predominantly Polynesian population.

His dream is to win a world title, not so much for the fame it will bring as for the security it will afford his family. Though he has punched his way to richer purses, remaining unbeaten, and flooring 24 of his 28 victims, wealth is only a means to an end.

"It's plastic, man. Nothing but plastic. I've seen rich guys who have got nothing but money. And it seems to me that the more they have got, the more they want and don't value the real things that count in life."

It is those other values that David preaches to the youth of Auckland when he comes home, just as he did around the schools when he returned from the Barcelona Olympics with a bronze medal around his neck, but no money in his pocket.

"I just tell them to have pride in where they come from, no matter how poor their families are. You must be humble but it is also good to have pride in your roots and respect for yourself and try and live a good life."

If he sometimes sounds more like an evangelist than a professional fighter, he finds no paradox in that. For he believes boxing is a gift God has given him to relieve his family's poverty ­ not an end in itself.

"I must fulfil my destiny," is a phrase which spills from his lips, not glibly, but with the sincerity of a missionary who is prepared to subject himself to a Spartan existence in pursuit of his goal, the world heavyweight crown.

At 1.78m (5ft 10in), about the same as Tyson and the late Rocky Marciano, he's a short rhino in a world of dinosaurs. But the punches are devastating, the self-belief steadfast and, above all, the patience is monumental. "I am a very patient man," he says. "I never was but I have learned to be. Every one has his day. And when mine comes, I will be ready. That is why I never bother my head about who I'm going to fight next, be it Mike Tyson or whoever. That's business. Mine is to be ready for when that time comes."

Getting ready means refraining from smoking and alcohol, eating the right foods, pumping iron, exercising, sparring endless rounds, learning new moves, different combinations, studying videos of other fighters and seeking weaknesses to exploit.

It means lonely days and nights in American cities and towns which were once foreign to him, being alone often with his CDs, his bible, or just touring the streets on a rented bike while he waits for the next fight and, hopefully, Duva's words that he can return home to New Zealand for a while.

He admits to getting terribly homesick as he follows the seasons, living out of a suitcase, residing in hotels and sparring in gyms in Houston, Virginia Beach, San Antonio or Florida.

There are no girlfriends in his life as he single-mindedly pursues a dream which requires total commitment, preferably without emotional distractions.

"That will probably come later, when I meet the right one at the right time. In the meantime I play my music, write some lyrics and strum my guitar. When I get really lonely I phone my family and friends in New Zealand and sometimes call my minister, the Reverend Kenape Faletoese, who is a Godfather to me, and we just pray together over the phone. After that, I always feel better."

He's come a long way since joining Duva as a small but big-punching heavyweight and accepting Auckland-based Kevin Barry as a New Zealand manager who never lost faith in him, even when critics accused Duva of feeding him a bunch of stumblebums to boost his pro record.

True, there were a number of soft touches, some who had no more potency than a punching bag. But it gave his trainers time to build his body up from 86kg, to put on solid muscle, increase his endurance and give him time to mature mentally as well as physically, and to learn from experience.

The WBC international title is still a big step from the world title. But with names like Lennox Lewis and Michael Moorer etched on that belt, David sees it as "a foot in the door."

However, to smash through it and face up to someone like Tyson, he knows he must also crash through the pain barrier, keep lifting weights, bench pressing 185kg, squatting 200kg, sparring 12 rounds against three opponents, using heavy 16oz gloves and heavy basketball boots.

"If I train and don't feel pain I am cheating myself," he reasons. "You can never cheat yourself if you want to succeed in this business. Nor can you underestimate anyone, as Ruiz did." The night he sent Ruiz into oblivion and his camp partied in Atlantic City, Tua made an international toll call to his parents in New Zealand, showered, went to his hotel room, drank Pepsi, prayed and went to sleep. He leaves others to talk the big fight and dream the big world title dream.

After all, it was, as he says, just "a foot in the door," a stepping stone for a young man who continues to wait patiently for his date with destiny.

As he gets closer, he realises bigger, tougher men will seek to destroy his dream as he did Ruiz's, probing for any weakness they can find, testing his stamina, his belly, his chin and his heart. Certain questions remain unanswered. But of one there is no doubt.

David shares a flat with his close friend and fellow emigre, South African heavyweight Courage Tshabalala. When he is not training in the United States, he comes back to New Zealand to stay with his parents and seven brothers and sisters.

David is managed by Kevin Barry and energetic Martin Pugh and is trained by Ronnie Shields. He is promoted by the world renowned America Presents, headed by Dan Goosen(Gooseman) and Matt Tinley(Tinman).

"David can hit as hard as any heavyweight alive," says an enthusiastic Barry, the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics light-heavyweight silver medallist. "It doesn't matter who it is, if he hits them on the button, they'll drop."

"David has it in him to be the heavyweight champion of the world" says Kevin Barry .