Khan bides time as the world waits at his door

They call him 'The Kid'. And there is a light in Amir Khan's eyes that all 17-year-olds have, reflecting innocence, wonder and the belief that all things are possible, not qualities always associated with the dangerous business of boxing. Especially when it entails mixing it with men who are older, stronger and far more experienced.

Men in the ring do not come much more menacing to the health of a spindly Bolton teenager than the great 33-year-old Cuban Mario Cesar Kindelan Mesa, whom he meets today in the Peresteri Hall in the dusty northern suburbs of Athens for the 60kg Olympic title. He lost on points to Kindelan in the Acropolis Cup in the same ring in May and says: 'I'd never seen him box before. Now I know what to expect. I'll be a totally different fighter this time. I'll be more patient and it'll just be a different fight.

'Kindelan is fast and powerful. I sat down with the coaches in the changing room after he beat me and we talked about what went wrong. And one of the things was just rushing, which I've got sorted. I've been studying videos of him. I've been sleeping well and getting rest.'

Kindelan has changed too, it seems. 'In the village Kindelan is a totally different person now,' says Khan. 'Every time he sees me he says good luck to me. He says good morning and shakes my hand. I used to think he was an arrogant person. Maybe I've got him a bit worried about me.' Maybe he has. This is a fight that will mark a definitive change in the lives of both of them.

Their collision at this stage of their lives provides a succinct commentary on the divisions between amateur boxing and the lurid attractions of the professional game, as well as between socialism and capitalism. This is not an ideological dust-up, though, because neither boxer would demean the occasion like that. Yet there could hardly be a more striking contrast in age, lifestyles and prospects.

Kindelan is the finest lightweight in the world, amateur or professional. He has won every tournament he has entered since the Pan American Games of 1999, including Olympic gold in Sydney and three world titles, and, had he not resisted the temptation to earn millions in America, he could be retired in a Miami penthouse by now. Instead he winds up a career he started at the age of 14 and goes home to Holguin to coach, to nod respectfully in the direction of Fidel Castro and be happy with perhaps a clapped-out old banger, a free apartment and a phone that works occasionally. His is a simple life adorned only by achievement.

As for Khan, glory, wealth and temptation lie ahead, in roughly that order. Although he has had only a handful of senior contests, for three months the respected law firm of Davies Arnold Cooper have negotiated for him, with the likes of News International, who have contributed to his stay in Athens - and will, no doubt, be telling us all about it in the days to come - and, more pertinently, the promoter Frank Warren.

Warren said last week: 'There are professional fighters out there I know he could beat right now. If he turns professional I think he could win a world title at a very young age, no doubt about that.' A source close to Khan told The Observer yesterday: 'Yes, he has been talking to these people but what he will almost certainly do is remain amateur at least until the world championships in Beijing next year and the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne in 2006. If he turned pro now, he would be fighting slower, poorer opposition and would risk going backwards. If he stays in the amateurs he would travel the world for the best tournaments, fighting the best boxers, guys he would probably meet later as a pro, and he would be able to grow physically.'

Khan said on Friday: 'I'm definitely wanting to go to Beijing for the Olympics in 2008. Reaching the final there is my dream. I've got a good family and personal coach backing me up, and they know the best for me.' He would be just 21 in 2008, a tournament-hardened fighter primed to take on the world's best, paid or unpaid.

If he sticks to his convictions, such an amateur career, underpinned by guarantees from any number of willing sponsors and promoters, would prepare him for professional boxing more thoroughly, certainly, than Naseem Hamed, who turned pro at 18, ignoring the lure of the Olympics. The Prince is languishing sullenly now in Sheffield, semi-retired and likely to figure in the headlines as a mere reference point in the media storm that will inevitably accompany Khan's return to Britain this week.

'Naz has said he wants to promote me,' Khan said yesterday. 'Well, that's good of him or anyone to want to help me.' A fourth win on Friday, this time 40-26 on points over the tough Kazakhstani Serik Yeleuov after trailing in the first two rounds, confirmed Khan's status as the find not just of this boxing tournament, but boxing full stop. Whether or not he becomes the youngest British boxer to win an Olympic gold medal - and I think he can do it - or gets silver, he has lit up these games like no lightweight since Sugar Ray Leonard 28 years ago.

'I've not really thought how this will change my life,' he says. 'I just want to get these Olympics over with. I know I've got a family supporting me. My mum and sisters and brothers have come, and it's good to see them. I saw my mum for the first time in five months on Thursday. It was brilliant. Like all mothers, she doesn't watch her son box.'

It was a reminder that he is still very much his mother's son, but a lethal fighter too. When Robert Mitchum heard that the teenage hustler and actor Robert Evans was going to be dropped from one of his many Fifties B movies, he uttered the words every hopeful star wants to hear: 'The kid stays in the picture.' This kid, against most expectations 16 days ago, is still very much in the picture.