The death of a celebrity very often generates an uncanny ‘Stop the Presses’ sensation. “Did you hear that so-and-so died?” becomes an acceptable topic of conversation, and suddenly you find yourself nattering away to a taxi driver about the tragic genius of the so-and-so in question. All this, of course, is despite the fact that the celebrity is someone you have probably never met. Their impact on your life has, in most cases, been trivial at best. Yet you usually remember where you are when you hear about the death of this character who had been a subtle but strangely omnipresent manifestation in your life – think back on recent memorable deaths such as Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger and Patrick Swayze and you’ll see what I mean.
But, as my Editor-in-chief is sagely pointing out to me, not many people are going to remember where they were when news of Darren Sutherland’s death broke. The history books will remember him as the talented young boxer who won a Bronze medal for Ireland at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The odd punter might therefore recall following his progress on television last Summer, and might mumble a “Isn’t that a shame” or “So sad” at the news of his death. However, I think it’s safe to say that Darren Sutherland won’t be nominated for any posthumous awards, there won’t be any concerts given in his memory and the country won’t be coming to a standstill to mourn his passing. After all, the show will always go on.
Yet, for me at least, this is a celebrity death that will remain etched on my memory for a long time to come. I’m not a big sports fan, but I had the opportunity of interviewing Sutherland last year in the wake of his Olympic success. I was then Deputy Editor of Trinity Film Review and Darren had starred in a documentary about a small Northside boxing Club – St. Saviours Olympic Boxing Club on Dorset street. The film was going on general release in a number of Dublin cinemas and our team had chased up the filmmakers as we felt this typically Dublin story would make a good cover feature. We were right. St. Saviours is housed in an old converted fire station, a red-brick chunk of a building, the type of place for which the phrase ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ seems to have been invented for. The film focused on three boxers in the club, each with a different story to tell; Darren was shown as a talented fighter who found himself torn between his sport and his studies. In a tragic twist, the levels of self-analysis he shows on screen take on a whole new significance with the news that he was found hanged in his new South London home – an apparent suicide.
I only had a few minutes to chat with Darren himself. But on the strength of those few minutes I had the definite impression of, quite simply, a lovely young man. His physicality naturally leant him a commanding presence, augmented by a boyish charm born of his shared Irish and Carribean heritage. Similarly, his accent was an idiosyncratic mishmash of an inner city drawl and a ‘hey mon’ West Indian hum, a combination that aptly represented the cosmopolitan and multi-cultural youth of 21st century Ireland. Inside the club that night, the musky smell of sweat hit you like a boxing glove to the face as soon as you walked in the door. The athletes were fresh from a training session after all. Yet despite the steam rising steadily from Darren’s shoulders, he was happy to pose for photographs. I spoke to him about his Olympic success and his difficulties balancing boxing with his college work (he was studying for a B.SC in Sports Science and Health in DCU). All the while, a cheeky grin was cemented to his face. Looking back, even the motivational posters decorating the boxing club take on a sad new significance, declaring “It’s better to sweat in the gym than bleed on the streets” and reminding us that “Boxing is dangeous. You come here at your own risk.”
This is certainly one of the saddest news stories of the year. One of the country’s brightest and most promising talents didn’t deserve a sad, lonely death in a bedroom in the London metropolis. We can never known exactly what happened. But it undoubtedly highlights, once again, the need for greater investment and awareness of depression and suicide prevention in Ireland. I can’t cliam that this encounter gave me anything other than a passing acqaintance of Darren Sutherland. However, I was left with the certainty that here was a rising star, a real talent who worked hard at his craft and deserved the success that I was sure would come his way. On 18 December, 2008, Sutherland made a winning start to his professional career with 1st round knockout of Georgi Iliev in Dublin. After the bout, Sutherland’s promotor Frank Maloney said “I think we’ve found a real superstar here tonight and this is just the start of a long journey”. Who could have forseen that Sutherland’s journey would be far shorter than anyone would have hoped.
