Joyce knew a victory over the short, squat Maxim Babanin in the World Series of Boxing would help his chances of securing early qualification to the 2016 Olympics but things would not go his way.

Instead, the Russian, who had already beaten both Tyson Fury and David Price in the amateurs, would outwork Joyce to claim a split decision on what was a disappointing night all round for the British Lionhearts.

My writing position that night just happened to be next to the loudest person in the entire venue. But aside from the shrieking volume, what was most curious about the observer was that she watched the fight through what looked like a telescope despite sitting about six feet from ringside.

It turns out, the woman in question was Joyce’s mother Marvel, who is partially sighted, “or blind, but only I can say that,” she told me. That telescope was actually a monocular and meant she could see the shapes moving in the ring but could not really make out what was happening. Instead, I was asked to keep her up to date with the blow-by-blow action, which was particularly awkward once it became clear that big Maxim was gaining the upper hand.

Once Joyce, or “Jobey” as she called him, had finished his bout and disappeared backstage, we got chatting about what life was like watching her son fight with actually being able to see him. She spoke about how he helped her get about everyday with impaired vision and we e stayed in touch as he would go on to secure his qualification to Rio.

Once that ticket was secured, she invited me to their west London home to conduct an interview as an Olympic preview for the Mail on Sunday. Me and photographer Kevin Quigley went along one sunny afternoon and quickly realised Joyce was no ordinary man and no ordinary boxer.

Before the dictaphone went down, he and his brother Torann, who was playing the young Michael Jackson on Broadway at the time, spent around half an hour doing backflips in the garden together. I’d never seen a 6-foot-6 240-pound man flip like that before — and haven’t since. It turns out the talent had been honed during a time as a competitive cheerleader for the Sacramento State Hornets.

After that, he took us inside to show us his array of art work that he’d done. There were huge, full body self portraits as well as more abstract works that he completed himself during a fine art degree at Middlesex University. He also disclosed that he could play the trumpet. It was the most memorable start to an interview I’d ever had and I was already unsure of how I would fit it all into the piece.

Joyce would go on to lose in the final of the Olympics to Tony Yoka in a fight that many of us thought he had won. The next day, I heard from Marvel who was dumbfounded by the subjective nature of the Olympic scoring. There was only one thing for it, given he was already 30, and that was to turn pro.

In keeping with his habit of doing things differently, Joyce’s debut was a 10-rounder against the very capable former British title challenger Ian “Lay ‘em Out” Lewison, who had gone 10 rounds with Dillian Whyte. Joyce stopped him in eight.

For the next three years, Joyce lived up to his “Juggernaut” nickname by steamrolling anybody who got in his way, demonstrating one of the most astonishing chins heavyweight boxing had ever seen. He was somehow able to walk through all attacks in order to club his opponents, like Bermane Stiverne, Alexander Ustinov and even Daniel Dubois into early finishes. By the time he stopped Joseph Parker in the 11th round of their September 2022 battle, people were queuing up to label him a world champion in waiting.

Even Dave Allen, who has sparred countless rounds with Anthony Joshua, Tyson Fury and Oleksandr Usyk, said there was a time when Joyce was genuinely the best heavyweight in the world. “Joe Joyce was one of the baddest, hardest, toughest, strongest men I’ve ever met,” Allen said.

What is amazing to think, then, is that Parker win, which is nearly four years old, was the last significant victory of Joyce’s remarkable and unique career. Just seven months later, he would be stopped by Zhilei Zhang inside six. Yes, his chin was as granite as ever, but his eyes were made of the same stuff as mine or yours and he was stopped on cuts.

But when they rematched five months later, alarms bells were ringing for anyone with any affection for Joyce as he was wiped out in three by the big Chinese southpaw.

A lacklustre comeback win on points against Kash Ali would follow but then unanimous decision defeats against Derek Chisora and Filip Hrgovic, the leading WSB super heavyweight when Joyce had lost to Babanin a decade earlier, would leave his career on the brink.

Saturday was supposed to be Joyce’s route back towards the top following 15 months of inactivity. More than 11 years on from his defeat to Babanin, the 40-year-old would face a different Volgograd resident in Artem Suslenkov, not in a London brewery but in a Moscow Arena.

In the early stages, it was the same old Joe Joyce, clubbing away at an opponent who struggled to make a dent in him. It was an even fight, with neither man pulling away on the cards or really hurting the other.

But then, with a minute and 10 seconds left of the 11th, the cheerleading, trumpet-playing artist from Putney took four steps back, raised his palm in surrender and looked to the referee for an intervention. The fight, finally, had left him.

It was an unusual ending to an unusual career, which promised so much but ultimately capitulated beyond belief in its final few years. I thought of Marvel, screaming her son onto victory in Moscow, watching those last few punches through her monocular, perhaps asking someone close by for a steer on what was going on.

Knowing boxing, this might not actually be the end of Joyce, who has always done things entirely on his own terms, but there will be many who hope never to see him have to fight for money again.