We live in an age where it is fashionable for sons, upon reaching manhood, to reject the influence of their fathers and fatherly advice in favour of striking out on their own and being their own men.

When we come across the uncommon instance where the opposite occurs — ie a son chooses to embrace his father and his advice in manhood, involving him in his business or career as a guiding hand, the unthinking default response of many is to accuse said father of smothering his son and refusing to allow him to be his own man.

Chris Eubank Jnr, currently one of the hottest British boxing prospects in many a year, is someone who refuses to allow himself to be swayed by the voices advising him to move away from his father’s influence.

And why would he, given the path walked by his old man, Chris Eubank, whose own ring career saw him achieve the almost unique distinction of featuring regularly not only on the back pages but also front pages of the nation’s newspapers.

In his pomp, he combined primordial courage and vaudeville panache, winning fights he should never have won by calling on the former, while rising to become one of the country’s most well known celebrities on the back of the latter. Add to the mix the homespun philosophy of the autodidact and you had in Eubank Snr a boxing writer’s dream.

This is the stunning legacy of the elder Eubank, who today continues to demand attention even though it is his son throwing the leather when the bell rings.

After his biggest test to date, which saw him end up on the wrong side of a split decision against current Commonwealth middleweight champion Billy Joe Saunders a year ago, calls for Eubank Jnr to ditch his old man from his corner reached a clamour, while at the same time they acknowledged his potential as a future world champion.

You can’t have it both ways. You cannot on the one hand attribute the blame for his son’s first loss in 19 fights in a split decision against someone of Saunders’s quality to the father, while refuse on the other hand to entertain the possibility that his previous unbeaten record, despite having no amateur career to speak of, was in large part a consequence of his father’s role and guiding hand.

The ease with which many are willing to see Eubank Snr’s experience discarded — experience amassed during one of the most successful and spectacular careers of any British world champion — says much for the extent to which writers, commentators and even ex-fighters continue to regard “English” as being big on idiosyncrasy and entertainment and short on coaching ability and know-how.

While the recent addition of Adam Booth to the Eubank Jnr camp may point to the validity of such negativity when it comes to his role and influence, his continuing presence and role in his son’s career will be crucial if he is to fulfil the potential that everybody agrees is considerable.

Eubank Snr is far from the preening poseur his detractors think he is. He is one of the most wily and nimble exponents of the noble and, on occasion, not so noble art there has been. His son’s decision to keep him close is a smart one.

Is Gennady Golovkin boxing’s new wrecking machine?

It is rare that a fighter emerges whose very name is capable of inducing awe in the most cynical and long-suffering commentator and sports writer, and preternatural fear in his opponents.

The likes of Sonny Liston, George Foreman, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler and Mike Tyson do not come along on every bus. In their prime they cut a swathe through their opponents, bringing to the ring the ruthless efficiency of a predator and the aura of invincibility associated with Caesar’s legions rampaging through Gaul.

Gennady Golovkin is the latest to hold this rare mantle, a fighter who like the aforementioned names has achieved the distinction of winning fights before he even goes to the trouble of climbing in the ring.

When fighters begin to measure themselves in the scheme of things by how many rounds they manage to last before succumbing to inevitable defeat against a particular opponent, you know the man in the other corner is a special talent.

Baby-faced features and the demeanour of your average social worker belie the ferocity of a man who brings the power of a cruiserweight to the middleweight division.

In his previous fight against David Lemieux, the Kazakh succeeded in taking the last of the available middleweight belts to become unified world champion.

More significantly, he did so behind a jab that, as Bernard Hopkins put it afterwards, did its work in the manner of a jackhammer pounding through concrete.

Golovkin’s footwork is every bit as impressive as his power. Watching him glide around the ring, he hardly ever moves out of punching distance, inducing ever-increasing levels of panic in opponents who quickly assume the role of your average wildebeest frantically trying to shake off a lion that hasn’t eaten in weeks.

Trained by the wily Abel Sanchez, this Kazakh is set to dominate the ring and attention of the sport for years to come, given the gulf currently separating him from the competition.

With the recent retirement of Floyd Mayweather Jnr, boxing has entered a new era in the shape of an unlikely-looking wrecking machine with a frightening habit of folding other men in half with either hand.