There was a letter to this paper back in June that took a somewhat scornful view of the news that family tickets would be available for Katie Taylor’s fight in Croke Park this weekend.

It was, the writer suggested, “a chance to bring the children along to see two women box themselves to submission”, after which they “could round off the evening’s entertainment by watching the gladiators at Dublin’s colosseum”.

While many of us have spent the week fondly reminiscing about Taylor’s remarkable career, and readying ourselves for what will be an emotional conclusion to it on Saturday night, there will be those – including, presumably, the letter writer – wondering why that career is being celebrated at all. Such are their visceral feelings of revulsion for the sport and all its dangers. For them, glorifying Katie Taylor is glorifying boxing.

It probably says something of our fondness for Taylor that even those who have always felt, at the very least, uneasy about boxing, nauseated by it at times, somehow managed to hate the game but not the player. Because Taylor has been a player like few others, her impact in and out of the ring on the sporting universe has been both immense and historic.

It helped, too, that for long spells in her amateur and professional careers, she was so superior to her opponents she made the sport seem almost clean and easy. It wasn’t, of course, and certainly not for those opponents, but she was so skilled she made it seem more artful than brutal.

It was only later, in fights against the likes of Delfine Persoon, Amanda Serrano and Chantelle Cameron, that we finally witnessed some vulnerability in Taylor. She’d had tough days in the ring before, but for the first time we saw her battered, bloodied and bruised. And it was shocking.

Those who want boxing banned are well entitled to ask: “Was it only when it was Taylor who was so damaged, rather than her opponents, that you felt queasy?” A fair question. And the answer is probably yes.

No more so than in April 2022 when she met Serrano at Madison Square Garden, a contest that was chosen as fight of the year by Sports Illustrated. A “blood-soaked epic”, as it was described at the time, and when you found yourself using the same descriptor, like the more blood, the more splendid the struggle, that’s when you had to rethink your take on interminable harm being inflicted on human beings’ brains.

Photo portrait of Katie Taylor aged 10: ‘You can see the steel in her eyes even then’

Donald McRae, one of the greatest of all writers on boxing, spoke last year of the “hypocrisy” in his relationship with the sport. “It’s that constant fluctuation between the good and the bad. Talking about the beauty of boxing and how it saves lives, but at the same time acknowledging that it damages and maims and kills people.”

Perhaps the greatest of them all, Hugh McIlvanney, often shared his own misgivings about the sport, and that notion that it saves lives. Not least in his seminal piece on the Welsh fighter Johnny Owen, who died at the age of 24 following a fight in Los Angeles in 1980.

In his regular life, Owen was painfully shy; in boxing he came alive. It gave him “his one positive means of self-expression”, McIlvanney wrote. “Outside the ring he was an inaudible and almost invisible personality. Inside, he became astonishingly positive and self-assured. It is his tragedy that he found himself articulate in such a dangerous language.”

Katie Taylor’s career in pictures: The highs and lows of a life between the ropes

Estimates vary wildly, but the rough guess is that Owen was one of over 2,000 boxers who died since the Queensberry Rules were introduced in 1884. Around 14 a year, if those figures are right. It’s a savage toll.

But those who defend boxing often point to the paternalism of those who denounce it. There’s truth in that too. If its competitors enter this sporting world with free will, knowing the dangers, then why should they be denied their choice?

It’s a whole 26 years ago that then International Olympic Committee vice-president Anita DeFrantz was asked, in the days before Taylor nigh on single-handedly got women’s boxing into the Olympics, what she felt about the woman version of the sport. “If women want to box, then no one should stop them,” she said, “I just thought they had more sense.”

But boxing was Taylor’s choice. And she has had a revolutionary impact on it. For all the qualms about her sport, she – if not the game – most certainly deserves to be celebrated. A story like no other. All you can do is wish her happiness and, most of all, good health.