An embodiment of pugilistic magnificence in the boxing ring, eccentrically affected but marvellously articulate out of it, Chris Eubank has sought, since last weekend, to defend the business from which he and now his son have made their livings.

However in intervening on Saturday upon realising that ‘Junior’ - as he calls him - was in danger of inflicting catastrophic damage upon Nick Blackwell, had he not done so already, Eubank demonstrated why boxing has a unique problem within mainstream sport.

It may be part of the entertainment business, but in confrontational sport at elite level the message to any athlete or individual is to identify the best chance of winning and seize it. Leading tennis, badminton or squash player will obviously target the backhand of opponents who are weak on that flank; rugby full-backs who are dodgy under the high ball be assured that the opposing half backs will pepper them; and footballing goal-keepers know any knock hampering their movement invites a barrage of crosses and implementation of a ‘shoot on sight’ policy.

When, then, it became apparent that Blackwell had a major problem last weekend the correct competitive strategy would have been to target the damaged area and presumably ‘Junior’ would have done so before his father did what every coach dreads and stepped in during a contest to offer parental instruction.

Eubank’s insistence that his son finish a beaten opponent not by taking the most obvious and easiest way to win, but by re-directing his blows to secondary targets in a sport which rewards the knocking out of opponents, may well have saved Blackwell’s life. What seems clear is that his decision to act as he did was informed by his own bitter experience and he is not alone in having been profoundly affected by the moment in question.

His meeting with Michael Watson close to a quarter of a century ago, crystallised growing concerns. Eubank’s life and opinion changing punch has stayed in the memory, not least because of the amazement registered that Watson regained his feet so soon after the devastating uppercut ended the contest.

I clearly remember expressing instant concern that the blow might have done more than end the contest. When it became clear that he had, indeed, been seriously hurt, the relief of seeing Watson upright so quickly only exacerbated the subsequent sense of something having been deeply wrong in drawing enjoyment from watching these great athletes attack one another as they had.

Eubank reportedly claimed afterwards that the incident, which led to a long and grim recovery for Watson, also changed him in costing him his capacity to finish fights. However well before that I remember admiring the pragmatism of his explanation that boxing was something he saw as a means to an end in order to look after his family.

It was consequently something of a surprise and a disappointment to discover that ‘Junior’ had followed him into the profession and it is clear from what both men, as well as Michael Watson, have said since the weekend that they would not want their words or deeds to be used as evidence of boxing representing a problem in itself.

Yet the arguments offered in its defence are ultimately no more effective than those offered at vital moments in their lives by Watson and Blackwell.

Continued claims that it offers youngsters in deprived areas some enhanced code by which they can live their lives or an escape route out of them are simply unacceptable since, in the 21st century, any remaining credibility they have are predicated on political failings that no sport can be expected to address in isolation.

Assertions that to ban it would be to drive it underground are meanwhile no more compelling than advocating the revival of bear-baiting, cock-fighting or, indeed, battles between armed gladiators as forms of entertainment.

Comparisons with the injury and death rates in other sports are also irrelevant because of how they are brought about, whether on race track, rugby pitch, mountainside or elsewhere.

Having watched, horrified, from the press box in Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium as medics fought to keep Thom Evans alive, it was unthinkable that an opponent might have knowingly inflicted such damage in order to gain competitive advantage. Any evidence of that having been the case would have resulted in severe sporting sanction and, probably, criminal proceedings.

Of course life is inherently dangerous, there is increased risk associated with many activities and some, not least rugby, have issues to address in terms of duty of care. However it is not the damage done to the victim which makes boxing seem barbaric, but the actions of the perpetrator.

There are, of course, other combat sports in which deliberately inflicting brain damage on an opponent earns reward rather than penalty, but boxing’s history and status make it the most prominent among them.

In giving his son a lesson in humaneness Eubank may have protected ‘Junior’ from suffering as he did when seeking to come to terms with what he had done to Watson, but he also inadvertently reinforced the case against their profession.