The end, when it came for Moses Itauma, was as shocking as it was worrying. Late on Saturday night, moving into the championship rounds of his first world heavyweight title fight, the 21‑year‑old had dictated the pace and dazzled Filip Hrgovic with his speed and skill. The 34‑year‑old Croat admitted that he believed Itauma had won each of the first eight rounds. And yet, in the fateful ninth, Itauma stumbled and weaved across the ring like a dazed and drunken kid. He looked lost and utterly spent.

Exhaustion had reduced him to the point where, as the experienced Hrgovic tore into him, Itauma also resembled a rag doll on the ropes. With the final two punches Hrgovic sunk a right into Itauma’s sagging body before nailing him with a pulverising left cross. It was so clearly over in that desolate moment that three things happened almost simultaneously.

The referee jumped in to rescue the stricken fighter just as a white towel fluttered from Itauma’s corner, while Hrgovic wheeled away in triumph, his right arm raised in acknowledgment of a stunning turnaround.

There should be unstinting praise for Hrgovic’s courage and determination. He absorbed blow after blow with stoic fortitude and he was dropped only once, in the second round, when the speed of Itauma’s footwork and fists meant the older man did not even see the punch. But Hrgovic got up and he never looked like the thought of defeat crossed his mind.

Itauma began to grimace with effort and to breathe heavily between rounds. It was plain that he was struggling with the demands of the pace he had set while Hrgovic kept fighting back, landing heavy shots of his own.

Over the past year Itauma had been subject to two serious and legitimate questions. Could he take a punch? Would he be brave in a dog-fight? Itauma provided positive answers to both queries.

However, two fresh concerns emerged and, ultimately, they derailed the hype-train which had gathered such momentum. Had sufficient attention been paid to Itauma’s conditioning? Did he and his corner have the tactical acumen to introduce a shift in strategy if he failed to stop Hrgovic in the first six rounds? The answers to both were a resounding no.

Itauma had won 12 of his previous 14 fights by early knockout and the two exceptions had been six-round bouts. So having to fight potentially double the length of those far easier contests against an ambitious operator would obviously take Itauma into uncharted territory. He needed to train far harder than ever before.

But conditioning also depends on intelligence. A fighter needs to learn how to pace himself and understand when, and how, to take breathers during a draining world title fight. Ebbs and flows provide the rhythm for even a supremely conditioned boxer.

It is here that Itauma’s corner, led by his trainer Ben Davison, appears to have let him down. Apart from his lack of conditioning, Itauma lacked the guidance which would have encouraged a change in tactics. Plan A worked like a charm for six rounds and then Itauma ran out of puff and smart thinking.

He stopped using the jab and just powered forward in an increasingly desperate attempt to force the stoppage. In the eighth, when Hrgovic hurt him for the first time, Itauma threw more punches than in any other round. He might have already been seven rounds up, at least in Hrgovic’s own honest account, but Itauma just kept hurling punches at the indomitable Croat.

Surely it would have been expedient to ease off for a few rounds, and try to gather his own dwindling energies? Hrgovic himself described Itauma’s slugfest then and in the fateful ninth round as “very stupid”. He said Itauma should have got on his bike and boxed at range.

He certainly has the technical ability – so much so that Shakur Stevenson, one of the most skilful fighters on the planet and who has been a world champion at four weights, lavished praise on Itauma after the fight while underlining his naivety. “Unbelievable talent and skills,” Stevenson wrote on X. “He’s young and he will be a champion one day if he learns from that. He throws every punch at 100mph and that can be a gift and a curse. Especially in the heavyweight division.”

I thought of another quote when I remembered the words Andy Lee said to me recently. After stressing his admiration for Itauma, the Irish trainer made a salient point: “Moses beat Jermaine Franklin in his last fight [a fifth‑round stoppage]. I thought it was a spectacular knockout. But just before the knockout, there were little signs of distress which you would expect to see from a young fighter. You’ve landed shots that usually knock out or stop your opponent but this guy is still not going down. So I think the knockout came at the perfect time for Moses.”

Lee is the best trainer in Britain and Ireland – but Itauma’s corner should have paid heed to those warning signs. They should have thought more carefully about his conditioning and their tactical approach against a fighter such as Hrgovic.

Last week Itauma had repeated his familiar lament about the vagaries of fame and how he would prefer to be “left alone”. It spoke of his ambivalence towards boxing and encouraged Hrgovic to dismiss him as “a kid”.

The new champion now knows that Itauma is remarkably fast and skilful. But he also knows that no one, not even a fighter as gifted as the man he stopped in the trenches, can survive at the peak of heavyweight boxing without paying serious attention to conditioning and tactics.

Itauma can be as special as Hrgovic, Stevenson and Lee all predict but he needs to harness his natural ability to a fresh way of working. This defeat could yet be the making of him – as long as Itauma’s fresh resolve can match his shimmering talent.