KICKBOXING LEGEND STAN Longinidis sits across from me; his Adonis-like mass reflecting off the fake wood-grain laminate of the library table. He talks rapidly, moving around on his chair like a boxer circling the ring. Each sentence is punctuated with a hand gesture; each well-articulated point by a penetrating look.

Emma, the film publicist accompanying Stan, sits off to one side, grinning like she knows something I don't; like she knows what is about to unfold.

There's a pause. Stan reaches across the table and squeezes my forearm with a hand that's sent men three times my size spiralling to the canvas.

"Drew," he says. (I can't help but think that we only met 20 minutes ago and he's already treating me like he's known me all my life.) "Drew," he says, "dreams can come true."

Immediately I want to disagree; to stand up for those whose dreams have turned to disappointment. I want to tell him that it's easy for him to say things like that now he's "made it". But I don't. The look in his dark eyes carries the conviction of truth.

In an instant I glimpse 37-year-old Stan's life: the boy who had no idea what he wanted to do; the Christian who would learn the importance of spiritual toughness; the athlete who would become one of the world's best.

I had hoped to meet someone interesting; someone who would make a good story. I now realise I've met someone life-changing.

Kickboxing was never Stan's dream as a kid. Throughout school he was a sensitive, non-confrontational kid who simply wanted to make his Greek parents proud. But Stan could never stick with anything long.

He had stints as a storeman and forklift operator, contemplated a promising soccer career and took up a lucrative IT job. He had also started to make a name for himself in kickboxing, winning two Australian amateur titles. Then one lunchtime everything changed.

Called into the boss' office one morning, Stan was informed that he was up for promotion at the IT company. He rang his parents with the good news. During lunch, however, Stan bought a martial arts magazine and came across an article on one of his recent fights. The article finished with the line, "Can Stan become Australia's first-ever world champion?"

Despite the fact that kickboxing at that time had a miserable reputation and minimal financial rewards, Stan went back to work and handed in his resignation.

"If you want to be good at something," he says, "the first thing you have to do is decide what you want to be. The rest is a matter of putting in the work, paying the price and seeing what creative ideas you can come up with to get you to that spot.

"It's the drive you have: the passion and the desire. Every day you've got to have a clear conscience and ask, ‘What productive thing did I do today that took me one step closer to my dream?'"

The decision to put everything on the line paid off. Stan had been noticed by scouts from the renowned training facility Jet Centre in Van Nuys, US, and in 1987 was offered a chance to train there. The years were hard, but Stan notched up a 17-win, zero-loss record taking a score of titles. It was a far cry from his first fight back in Australia.

"I've always had the pleasure of doing things people thought I couldn't do," reminisces Stan with a grin. "After my very first fight, the ring announcer (a famous martial artist) apologised to the audience for the quality of my fight and hoped that the fights to come that evening would be a better standard.

"I had won my fight! So there I was with my trophy and my friends, and I heard that and it killed me. I swore I was going to make that guy eat his words, and in years to come that guy went on to say that kickboxing in Australia is Stan ‘the man'".

Winning, however, is much more than determination, he says.

"I probably would never have been able to follow through if I didn't have the spiritual connection I have. People say to me, ‘How do you prepare for a fight?' And I always tell them that I prepare physically, mentally and spiritually. And they say, ‘What does the spiritual side do for you?' And I tell them that the spiritual side gives me peace."

Stan's eyes widen. He leans forward. "I'm telling you my secret. When the going gets tough, you've got to think of something that inspires you. I could be hurt in a fight: I'm sitting on my stool with my head bowed, dripping sweat, dripping blood. And I look my trainer in the eyes and I want to tell him that I don't want to go out anymore.

"That's when I draw on my relationship with Jesus Christ. When I go through times like that I remind myself that the pain I'm going through now is nothing compared to what Jesus went through on the cross. I feel like angels are picking me up and pushing me to go on. I don't have to win the fight, but I'm telling you that's how I don't give up."

Of course, Stan adds, "you've got to be honest with yourself. You can't ask for that spiritual help or contact just in times of need – it's got to be a full operation for me. I don't ask only for God's help when I need him, and then put him in a box when I don't."

Being genuine is a big part of who Stan is. When he won his first world title it was judged by two Americans and one Australian. The two Americans awarded the fight to Stan, the Australian didn't.

"There was a little bit of doubt in some people's eyes whether I should have won the fight, so I relinquished the title. If my fans are going to look at me from the corner of their eyes and not be sure, then I'd do it again.

"Even my opponent said, ‘For Stan to admit I was the better man says something about his sportsmanship and character.' I went on to win eight world titles after that."

Character is what defines Stan. Despite winning 82 out of a total of 94 professional fights, Stan ranks meeting actor Chuck Norris in Las Vegas as a highlight of his career. Stan was in his dressing room, having just beaten the legendary Dennis Alexio, shattering the bones in Alexio's leg in a bout that lasted just six seconds.

"And Chuck Norris says to me, ‘Then you looked over your shoulder at your opponent – you saw them bring in the stretcher, the neck brace – and you showed compassion and broke down.'" Stan's eyes sparkle. "And he says, ‘Stan, that's what makes you special.' Then he hugged me."

Stan smiles at the memory; I just shake my head. Stan is no saint – he assures me of that – but the thought of a world champion kickboxer repeatedly showing compassion for his fallen opponents – often to the point of tears – reinforces the idea that Stan is quite the paradox.

Consequently, it comes as no surprise that as Stan's kickboxing career has drawn to a close, demand for his talents and experience outside the ring has increased.

His capacity for motivational speaking has seen him tour throughout Europe, take up an appointment with the AFL's Hawthorn Football Club (teaching mental preparation for controlled aggression) and speak at hundreds of Australian schools encouraging students and teachers alike to follow their dreams.

Stan counts it all a privilege. After nine operations on his knees, he knows how dangerous kickboxing can be. He knows that a lot of fighters in his sport have finished up not being able to communicate properly. And for all these things, Stan says he thanks God every day.

By the end of this week, however, Stan will have something else to be thankful about. Trojan Warrior, a new Australian film with Stan in the lead role, will open in selected cinemas.

Promoted as a gangster action adventure film, Trojan Warrior follows the exploits of Ajax (Longinidis), a one-man army who takes on a crime syndicate in order to keep his cousin Theo alive long enough to testify against them in court.

"What follows," insists the film's press release, "is a three-day roller coaster ride... which takes [the characters] from one bizarro [sic] situation to another". Considering the film guest stars a whole swag of colourful Australian icons, including Dermott Brereton, Mark "Jacko" Jackson, Gabriel Gaté, Greg Matthews, Naomi Robson and Professor Yoland Lim, that shouldn't be too difficult.

While Trojan Warrior is by no means a "Christian" film, Stan was drawn to the lead role which was written specifically for him.

"What I like about Ajax is he's a little bit like me. He's not your typical Van Damme. As Ajax, I'm a more humane type of hero. I laugh, I joke, I cry.

"I've always looked at myself as the innovator, not the imitator," he adds. "I want to be different. In kickboxing I wanted to set the standards. And now here I am in a new industry and when I take on something I take it by the horns. I'm anticipating the close of one chapter in my life and I'm going to make sure this works for me.

"Something big is going to happen. I know God's got plans for me. And as long as I have faith in the bigger picture I know I'll have the fairytale ending. My success has been due to the spiritual side, because if you don't have that then you're hollow. It's very, very important. I'm not embarrassed to say it. People think that I should be embarrassed. Why? Is it less cool?"

Stan and I talk for a while longer. He tells me how much he'd like to start a family; how most people expect him to have had plenty of women, but how he is waiting for someone special and spiritual. He also tells me how he views himself as "a soldier in God's army".

The interview ends and I stop the tape. I watch Stan rise from his chair and note with interest how he shrinks back into himself once the spotlight is no longer on him. There's no competition; no need to be the centre of attention. And as we make arrangements to take photographs, Stan is both courteous and obliging.

It's hard not to like Stan. Even the camera likes him. One day – possibly sooner than later – he will become a movie star; there's no doubt about that.

I watch as the camera flash goes off. Stan moves confidently into another pose.

Maybe Stan's right. Maybe with the right heart and the right spirit, dreams can come true.