We've all heard the story. It's a poignant tale about a hard-luck kid growing up in the wrong part of town, how he would have been just another victim of the mean streets of Culiacan, Mexico had it not been for a kind, honest man who found the kid going through the garbage one day, looking for something to eat.

Johnny Tapia reminds me of a guy who always arrives at the airport five minutes before his flight is due to leave. There’s a certain amount of desperation in the way he acts and talks, as though his time is running short. He has an intensity that makes you think his light will burn out long before he finds his way out of the darkness. He’s like a 4-year-old with a big bag of chocolates, a Wall Street commodities broker on a black-coffee binge.