“If you really want it, you’ll find the time,” says Ivan Zucco, two-time Italian champion and WBC super middleweight titleholder. Time for sacrifice. Time to pursue goals and titles that, on paper, might seem out of reach for a contemporary Italian boxer. Time for discipline, clarity, and self-awareness — all essential foundations when approaching the noble art. And above all, time for resilience.

“If you really want it, you’ll find the time,” Zucco repeats — and in that moment, you understand just how many minutes, hours, years he’s dedicated to shaping his excellence. You step into the story of a calm, focused fighter born into the sport, whose rise has been as brilliant as it’s been steady: 21 wins out of 22 professional fights, 18 by knockout. Recently, however, the dream of adding the European EBU title slipped through his gloves, in one of the most intense boxing environments in recent memory — England, the sport’s spiritual homeland.

His reflections, gathered during a special Pitti event by Champion — a brand that has long left its mark on the collective imagination of athletes and fight fans alike — reveal the many parallels and contrasts between the world inside the ropes and the one outside. When fully understood, these intersections can transform a boxer into both a champion and a better human being — something only a few sports can truly offer.

What first pushed you to pursue boxing, and what has it taught you along the way?

“I started boxing because of my father. He was a former fighter, and I also wanted to spend more time with him. My parents separated when I was six, and boxing became a way to reconnect with my dad. At first, it was just a way to be together. Then it became part of my life. I was in the gym every single day with him — and we’re still training together to this day.

Initially, the idea was simply to learn how to defend myself — that was important to my dad. But it quickly turned into a real passion. I had my first match at 14, and from there, I never stopped. One of the first lessons boxing taught me was crucial: punches are thrown in the ring, and only in the ring. Never outside. Boxing is about discipline, first and foremost. There’s no place for violence beyond the gym. In fact, in our gym, if someone disrespects that rule, they don’t come back.

Another core principle we follow: school comes first. If someone isn’t doing well in school, the gym stays closed to them. Because dedication to boxing has to be matched by dedication to life. I’m living proof of that. It hasn’t always been easy — balancing school, training, friendships, relationships — but I made it work. Even when I was away with the national team for months at a time, I brought audio lessons with me and kept studying.

After high school, I started working: I was a warehouseman by day and a bouncer at night. In between, I trained. Because if you really want it, you’ll find the time. That’s what boxing taught me: dedication, sacrifice, respect. These values stay with me every day.

Boxing is one of the toughest disciplines out there. I’m not saying that to diminish other sports — I follow them, I’ve tried many — but boxing is just more intense. I train six days a week, twice a day: two hours in the morning, two in the afternoon. Running, lifting, sparring — the work never stops. And then there’s the weight cut: you might have to drop six to eight kilos even when you’re already in peak shape.

After all that, fight night arrives. You make weight, you’re ready. Then comes the real test. But here’s the thing: by the time you step into the ring, most of the work has already been done. If you’ve given everything in the gym, you walk into that fight with a different kind of confidence. That’s where your strength comes from.”

Do you see boxing as a form of art — with its cultural history, generational heroes, and influence on literature and cinema — or is it more of a personal challenge, a pursuit of your physical and mental limits and peak performance?

“From a historical perspective, boxing is probably one of the oldest sports in existence. It has enormous cultural significance and has always played an important social role.

When I first started boxing, it was just that — a sport. I wanted to learn something new, stay in shape, build discipline. Over time, the ring became a bigger part of my life. First it became a passion, then a goal, and eventually my profession. And with each of those phases, the way I saw boxing changed too.

I’ll be honest: I don’t approach boxing as an art form in the traditional sense. Sure, I enjoy showing the beauty of movement, the fluidity, the elegance — proving it’s not just about brute force. But for me, boxing has always been primarily a personal challenge. It’s about pushing my limits — both physical and mental.

If I run a kilometer in 4:20 today, tomorrow I want to do it in 4:15. If I throw 100 punches at the bag today, next time I want to land 103. That’s just how my mind works. I’m always trying to improve, step by step.

Beyond the physical side, I’m working a lot on my mental strength. In boxing, your mind matters more than your body. That’s why I train with a mental coach — to overcome those invisible blocks that can hold you back. Because in boxing, it’s not just about endurance or technique. There’s fear, pressure, confrontation. If your head’s not in the right place, you can fall apart before you even step into the ring.

For example, before fighting for the European title in England, we had three days of face-offs, interviews, stare-downs. I’m a calm person — I don’t do trash talk or try to provoke. But during those moments, with one look, you can read so much about your opponent — if they’re confident, scared, trying to fake it…

I’ve never needed to push or insult anyone. I just look them in the eyes. You can tell right away who’s truly ready and who’s just putting on a show. A lot of times, the loudest guys are the most afraid. For me, that old saying is absolutely true: “The ones who bark the loudest don’t bite.” Real strength doesn’t need to be shouted.”

Speaking of boxing culture, we can’t ignore Champion — a brand that’s permanently etched into the visual and emotional memory of the sport. What does it mean to you to represent this brand today?

“For me, representing Champion is truly a great honor. It all started quite unexpectedly — right after my European title fight in England, I was approached about collaborating with the brand, and I said yes immediately. That’s how everything began, and now it feels like there’s a shared desire to keep building something more solid and long-term together.

Champion is a brand I’ve known my whole life, with a powerful legacy behind it. It’s part of boxing culture, of course — but also of sports culture in general. Being connected to Champion today, at a time when the brand keeps evolving while staying true to its roots, makes me proud.”

You’ve reached incredible peaks—two national titles and two international belts. A rare feat in Italy. What did the WBC belt mean for your personal and athletic journey?

“The WBC belt is huge. We’re talking about one of boxing’s most prestigious global titles. I won the International Title—which is one of the stepping‑stone belts required to enter the official WBC rankings—right here in Verbania, my hometown. My opponent, a Serbian fighter, had a record of 28 wins and just one loss. I remember him landing a powerful right hand at the end of the first round—it shook me up, woke me up. Then I knocked him out in the second round.

I defended that belt in Milan at the Allianz Cloud, in front of more than 4,000 fans, against a very tough British opponent—and I won on points. That belt was pivotal for me. It opened the door to the WBC top 15 worldwide, helped me build an international profile, and gave me my ticket to big stages—like my recent fight in Barnsley, England.

That was a whole different experience. I was used to fighting in front of a few thousand supporters in Italy. But in England, I had 25,000 people chanting against me. It was crazy loud…”

And how do you bounce back after losing a belt or a big title opportunity? How do you reset both mind and body after a ring disappointment?

“It’s part of the game. Losing hurts, but it’s part of the journey. Winning is easy—you stay motivated. Losing is when you find out who the real fighters are. Rocky put it best: ‘It’s not about how hard you hit—it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.’

That’s my truth. Now that I’ve lost, I need to prove whether I’m a champion or not—I honestly don’t know yet. But my mindset is strong, I’ve learned so much from this setback, and I’ll come back even stronger. I’m already itching to get back in the gym.

Respect to my opponent—they earned it. But I know my training is solid, my physical prep is top‑notch. This loss is going to make me mentally tougher. Boxing is like life: everyone falls at some point. It’s what you do next that matters.

In my last match, in the tenth round, I took a body hook that bent my legs. I got up immediately, but I’d lost focus. My dad—who’s in my corner—decided to stop the fight. He made the right call. A boxer’s health comes first. Knowing my dad is there, keeping me safe, means everything. Because I’ve seen fights where the corner didn’t stop at the right time. With him, I know I’m taken care of.”

Music and boxing seem to walk side by side in your life. What musical background does Verbania’s boxing scene reflect? And today, how does the music world influence your life and boxing?

“I’ve loved music since I was a kid—all kinds—but hip hop and rap have always been my favorites, especially during training or before a fight. Boxing introduced me to my musical idols—artists I listened to growing up, like Club Dogo, Guè Pequeno, Marracash.

Now, thanks to boxing, I’ve built real connections with some of them. Massimo Pericolo dedicated a track called ‘Zucco’ to me, Jake La Furia mentioned me in a verse—and Nerone did too. I even walked into the ring to Massimo’s track, more than once. We’ve become friends, eat out together, we keep in touch before and after matches. After my fight in Europe, Guè texted me to say congrats. He was going to walk me into the ring too, but work commitments came up. We’ll make it happen in Milan.

It’s surreal to realize boxing brought me into this musical world that shaped me—and now supports me. What’s awesome is discovering their humanity. At first, they felt larger than life, distant. Then you meet them, and they surprise you. They’re genuine. That mutual respect means a lot.

After matches, I get thousands of messages on social media. And I reply to everyone myself, often late at night when I can’t sleep from the adrenaline. I do it because I want to—I believe in staying connected. And honestly, I don’t have haters. Maybe it’s because people respect my honesty, my humility. I try to stay real. Even as things grow, I want to be myself.”

Boxing has allowed many icons to leave powerful messages behind. What kind of message do you want to share—especially with the Italian boxing movement? And what sort of legacy are you hoping to build?

“The first message I want to get across is that boxing is a sport for everyone. It’s often misunderstood as violent, but in truth, it’s the opposite—it’s a contact sport, yes, but one built on rules, respect, and discipline. I’m not a violent person at all. Sure, I switch into a different mode when I’m in the ring—it becomes a one-on-one challenge, and I want to win. But outside the ropes, I’m always just me, with my values.

What I really care about—especially when speaking to younger generations—is what boxing can teach you about life: respect, discipline, sacrifice, dedication… and most of all, how to push past your limits, both physical and mental. Lately, I’ve seen so many people struggling mentally—unable to cope with pressure, whether in sports or daily life. I believe boxing, with its structure and intensity, can be an incredible school of resilience.

That’s why, even on social media, I try to share content that’s real, honest, and motivational. I’m not trying to sell a fake image of myself. Unfortunately, social media today is all about showing off this perfect version of life—money, happiness, easy success. But that’s not the truth. I hear it from young people I meet, even at the gym—kids who are 15 or 16 saying they want to be influencers and make fast money. But life doesn’t work that way.

Boxing, in that sense, is the perfect metaphor for life. If you step into the ring unprepared—even if you’re naturally gifted—you could lose to someone with less talent but more preparation. It’s the same with work, and with anything that matters. It’s tough, sure—but that’s what makes it meaningful. That’s what makes you grow.

The legacy I’m trying to build is exactly that: I want to leave something positive behind—not just in terms of titles or wins, but through the example I set. Winning isn’t my only goal. I want to show that you can build something great by being authentic, working hard, and refusing shortcuts. That’s my message.”