The nature of the enterprise dictates as much, a person’s temperament out of the ring often irreconcilable with that required of them inside it.

Our own crop embrace that ethic more than most, the fighting Irish famously adept at switching from cordial to gladiatorial.

Indeed, so at odds was Darren Sutherland’s persona with his athletic pursuits that even the man himself struggled to join the dots.

“I’m just a nice lad who fancies a scrap now and again”, he mused back in 2008.

By then Junior Cert English represented the height of my writing credentials, the fruits of our interview destined only for the heady heights of a school magazine.

And yet, such was Sutherland’s eagerness to engage that it might as well have been slated for a Sports Illustrated splash.

It was that level of enthusiasm which so endeared him to the general public a few months earlier, the Mulhuddart native having won hearts and minds en-route to a feted Olympic medal.

His reputation within boxing circles had long since been lofty, however, three national and two EU titles ensuring he bounded into Beijing on the crest of wave.

It seemed a combination certain to stir a perfect storm in the pro game too, Sutherland’s ability topped only by his marketability.

A queue around the corner formed in earnest, promoters aplenty keen to nab Ireland’s newest shooting star.

The artist formerly known as Frank Maloney would ultimately find himself front of house, the Londoner typically unshy about placing his recruit in rarefied air.

“From the minute I watched Darren in the Olympics he was the only fighter I wanted to sign.

“I believe he will be my fifth world champion, following in the footsteps of Lennox (Lewis), Paul Ingle, Scott Harrison and David Haye.”

No pressure.

And still it appeared close to a safe bet, Sutherland’s phonebooth-friendly style manna from heaven for all concerned.

“I loved amateur boxing, but I never really boxed like an amateur!

“I always preferred to get stuck in and let the punches fly, use my engine to outwork guys instead of trying to being too precise about anything.

“That wasn’t really the done thing in the amateurs at all, so I didn’t always feel I was getting rewarded for my style. The pros will suit me down to the ground though, I love a war and I’ll be looking for knockouts.

“Frank isn’t going to be paying me any overtime so there’s not much point in taking my time!”

DCU would eventually play host to opening night, his alma mater a fitting backdrop from which to pen the latest chapter. Georgi Iliev served as the fall guy in Glasnevin, Sutherland sweeping through the Bulgarian inside one round.

“There'll be tougher fights down the line, but the objective is to improve with every bout and step up the opposition as we move forward”, said Maloney in the aftermath.

“I think we've found a real superstar in Darren. This is just the start of a long journey for us”.

Tragedy, of course, would dictate otherwise, the events of this date in 2009 casting interminable shadows over something once so bright.

Nigh-on a decade later, a sense of mystery also continues to abound.

Inquests regarding the 27-year-old’s sudden passing provided questions on top of answers, Dr Roy Palmer’s open verdict lending at least some ambiguity to the presumptive cause of death.

Not in doubt, however, was the reality that Sutherland’s affable demeanour had come to fade.

Indeed, whereas the sporting transition itself may have been like that of a duck to water, the dog-eat-dog culture of professional boxing proved a wholly less natural fit.

Allusions to all manner of mitigating circumstances were made in that vein, from recurring injuries and personal strife to financial pressure and promotional mismanagement.

The devil likely lay somewhere amidst those details, yet the lessons from Darren’s untimely demise seemed altogether less complex.

"If anything ought to be learned after this ordeal it’s that support mechanisms for amateur boxers should also be there for them when they begin their lonely path on the journey to professional life”, read a statement by the Sutherland family. “We now know first-hand how difficult the transition is".

Britain’s Boxing Board of Control were urged to take action to that end, their intervention cited by inquest officials as crucial in warding off similar tragedies going forward.

A subsequent link-up with the ‘MIND’ mental health association represented steps in the right direction, with monetary subsidies also put in place for Olympians transitioning to the paid ranks.

Alas, the high-wire nature of elite-level boxing dismisses any prospect of a perfect solution, struggles recounted by the likes of Ricky Hatton and Tyson Fury testament to how feelings of vulnerability still often win out.

Considering this kind of dialogue has even entered the public domain speaks to a marked change in perspective though, the boxing community incalculably keener to engage than in decades past.

It may not be the one he had seemed destined for, but Darren Sutherland’s legacy lives on in that.